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‘Yep. What is it?’ She appeared behind me almost instantly, and the faint scent of her patchouli perfume wafted past.
‘Why is Scott’s glass on the sink …?’ I trailed off, my voice wavering at the end of the sentence.
‘Oh, I used it this morning for an ashtray.’ Her voice was as casual as when you’d tell someone you were going for a stroll in the park.
A laugh of relief escaped my lips. ‘My God, that freaked me out because I had it shoved in the back of the cupboard and didn’t expect to see it.’
She patted me on the cheek. ‘I’d never let that fucker over here. Don’t worry.’
I nodded, and once I caught sight of the Vegemite jar and butter in the fridge, my worries dissipated. After lathering the spreads onto a piece of rye bread, I took a big bite. Each bite tasted heavenly, so heavenly that I closed my eyes, while my stomach grumbled as it greeted what it had longed for all day.
‘Anyway, chickie, I’m going to bed. I’m super spent.’ Deb leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, then whispered in my ear, ‘Have fun, tiger.’ She gave my arse a quick slap.
I let out a laugh and then diverted the topic away from her comment. ‘What time do you start tomorrow?’
‘Same as you, pretty sure.’
‘So, eleven?’ I raised my brows.
‘Yeah, so I’ll come with you.’ She smiled. ‘Oh, by the way, thank you for helping me out with my phone bill the other day. I’d be screwed without you.’
‘All good, sugar.’ I nodded.
‘Night, chick.’ Deb blew me a kiss. ‘Oh, and don’t mind me if you hear me moaning in my sleep. I’ll be dreaming of Patrick Vitello.’ She let out a mischievous laugh and walked towards her room.
I laughed too and didn’t think twice about the name. Instead, I put the food away and gave the bench a wipe-down.
‘When are you coming into the lounge room?’ Seb called.
‘Now,’ I replied as I threw the sponge into the sink.
As I walked in, he just stared at me, grinning, with his jacket draped over the back of the chair.
‘Looks like the couch is free.’ I winked and gestured to the three-seater.
‘Oh, is that right?’ He stood and walked so close to me that I felt his breath tickle my neck.
‘Mmm-hmm.’
‘You cheeky bitch.’ He shook his head while smiling at me.
He flopped onto the couch and tugged my arm, signalling for me to sit beside him. As I sat, he began rubbing his foot on mine, and I laughed, then flinched as his toes tickled my feet. I politely moved my foot away and smiled. He flashed his ridiculously good grin again and looked into my eyes. I wanted to look elsewhere – his stare was so intense – but I didn’t. He gave off alustful, tired-of-waiting-three-months-and-only-getting-kisses-and-cuddles vibe.
Is three months too long to make a guy wait before having sex? And if I make him wait longer, will he just look for it somewhere else?
‘Anyway, why do you look so sexy for bed?’ he asked as he eyed me from head to toe in admiration. ‘I love how your lips are so full of colour. So plump. Mmm, and don’t even get me started on your blue eyes; they should be illegal.Youshould be illegal.’
I let out an embarrassing chortle.God, he’s funny. My eyes should be illegal. They aren’t that blue, are they?I always thought of them as greyish.
‘So now can I have a kiss? I’ve missed those lips.’ He leant in and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.
As I leaned in for a kiss, an unwanted memory interrupted. Images of Scott’s lean, muscly back and his pineapple-and-coconut scent flooded my mind. His divine smell and tanned skin, along with his sparkling turquoise eyes, had a way of weakening and enticing me. I banished the thought and quickly pecked Seb.
‘Naomi? What’s going on? That kiss felt lifeless.’ He snarled his lip in annoyance.
‘Oh, nothing. It’s stupid.’ I attempted to dismiss it with a laugh, avoiding eye contact as I focused on the shaggy, grey rug.
‘There always seems to be something on your mind. If it’s not your Dad, it’s your work. Why is it whenever we try to get close, you pull away? Always a bloody restriction.’ He shook his head.
