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Oh God, Yvonne, shut up. SHUT UP.
Conor’s expression warmed as he grinned down at me, his hand coming to rest on my upper arm. He gave a small, reassuring squeeze. “Relax. I know what you meant.”
Again, I grimaced. “Oh no, I’ve offended you.”
“Will you stop? I’m not offended.”
The song ended and the singer began bantering with the audience, meaning we could hear one another better. Though that wasn’t so great now that I’d dug such an embarrassing hole for myself.
“I hope that’s true because I really didn’t mean anything by it. I just get this verbal diarrhoea sometimes when I drink and I don’t know when to shut my mouth.”
“Yvonne,” he said, his deep voice caressing my name. “I promise you haven’t offended me. In fact, my teenage self would’ve been thrilled you found him cute. Well, he would’ve preferred you thought him handsome and manly but he would’ve taken what he could get.”
In the middle of the crowded pub, my heart skipped a beat. “Listen, Conor, I’m so sorry about that time when—”
Before I could finish, the band started up again, drowning us out. Conor stepped closer and slid his hand into mine. My skin tingled where our palms connected.
“Let’s just have some fun, okay?” he said, his mouth near my ear, causing my belly to flutter as he led me further onto the dance floor.
2.
Conor
She was even more beautiful than I remembered.
Yvonne’s smile was captivating, her curvy hips and peachy arse outlined by her stunning red dress as she danced, moving her body to the rhythm. Her lipstick matched the dress and I had a hard time taking my eyes off her all night.
When I first heard that Evelyn was living in New York with Yvonne, I was plunged a decade into the past. A past where I’d crushed on the beautiful neighbour who only had to smile at me and I was done for.
Now I was all grown up, but unsurprisingly, my attraction to her was as strong as ever. Tonight was supposed to be a friendly get together, but I’d spent the last few hours bewitched by her, my gaze eating up her curves and her smile, her full lips and sparkling blue eyes.
She was a bright flame burning in the dark and I was a moth.
We were both out of breath by the time the band finished their set and Dylan suggested we order a car to take us back to our place for a few more drinks. Both Evelyn and Yvonne seemed to be on board but I was apprehensive. Bringing Yvonne back to ours while we were this drunk probably wasn’t a wise idea.
When the car arrived I sat in the front next to the driver, putting a little space between me and Yvonne. Maybe if I concentrated hard enough I could sober up and not do anything I might regret in the morning. If I gave in to what I really wanted I’d take Yvonne by the hand, lead her to my room and bury my face between her thighs until dawn.
So, yeah.
The thing was, I didn’t want a drunken one night stand with her. I wantedmore. I always had. But there was still that fear that she would never see me in that way. I’d always be a naïve teenage boy in her eyes.
Fuck, just thinking it made me feel grumpy and irritable.
I’d never quite gotten over my crush on her. Sure, it had faded but it left its mark. Even as I grew older, went to college and left the Villas, whenever I looked for a partner, I was always looking for someone a little bit like her. Not simply in looks but in energy.
Most of my girlfriends had been capable, independent women with sunny dispositions. They were also in and around a decade older than me. Make of that what you will. Perhaps I simply had a type. Or perhaps my subconscious was searching for Yvonne in other women.
We arrived outside the townhouse me and Dylan were renting. I paid the driver then climbed from the car, going around the side to open the door for Yvonne. She emerged and I took her hand, pulse stuttering when her soft, cool palm slid along mine.
“Thanks,” she said with a sweet smile. I met her gaze, holding her hand a moment longer than necessary before I eventually found the willpower to let go. I let us into the house and went straight to the sound system to put some music on. It was far too quiet now that we were away from the loud pub music.
“Oh! I love this song,” Yvonne exclaimed when she appeared at my side, a faint waft of her floral perfume hitting my nose. I momentarily fantasised about how she’d smell wearing one of our scents, how it would meld with her skin.Synaesthesiawould suit her, I thought. Or perhapsLimerence. God, I was turning into Dylan, obsessing over scents and how they’d smell on the object of my lust. Because yeah, I’d been lusting after Yvonne all night.
Fucking hell, I’d lusted after her since I was eighteen years old.
I turned up the volume of the music just to drown out the sound of my heart ramming itself against my ribcage.
She was so distracting. I wanted to absorb everything about her because soon the night would end and I didn’t know when I’d see her next. It all depended on how things went with Dylan and Ev. If they managed to work things out then Yvonne and I would likely be crossing paths more often. However, if things went sour then I probably wouldn’t see her again. Not unless I took matters into my own hands, and well, given I had no idea how she felt about me that would be risky. I could ruin things between us completely and I’d rather have her as a friend than not at all.
