Since it’s lunchtime, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that Eric’s also taking a break and can text back. My wish comes true less than a minute later.
Eric: Alice. Are they helping with your stress?
Pippa: They are. But I remember you telling me that exercising is the best stress reliever.
Eric: After what happened yesterday, I agree with you. Exercising is dangerous.
I hover with my fingers over the letters, unsure what to write to him. Then I see the little dots indicating he’s typing, and I wait.
Eric: I don’t regret it. Those were some fantastic kisses.
I hesitate, still unsure what to write back, so I concentrate on devouring another cookie. After a minute or so, my phone beeps again.
Eric: I was not expecting radio silence. If you don’t think it was at least one of the best kisses in a while, by all means, lie to me. Honesty is not required this time.
I chuckle, shaking my head. Okay, I can do this. My flirting skills are rusty, but phone flirting seems less challenging than if we were face-to-face.
Pippa: Someone can’t stand having his ego wounded. Sorry, I was too busy eating cookies. They’re like your kisses. As soon as I have one, I need more.
Eric: This comparison is the best thing that could happen to my ego today. My team should be thankful to you.
Pippa: Ah, so you’re on the friendly end of the shark-o-meter today.
Eric: I’m still debating that. Can’t wait to see you on Saturday.
Oh, yeah… Saturday will be dangerous, because I have a suspicion that all bets are off.
Chapter Nine
Pippa
When I step out of the cab in front of Eric’s house on Saturday, my heart is beating fast. I jam my hands in my pockets, surveying the one-story home. I feel like an impostor as I walk to the front door because I’m here supposedly for Julie. But the memory of Eric’s kisses still lingers in my mind. I can still sense the rough touch of his lips on mine
, as well as his taste.
I shouldn’t want a repeat of the gym incident. I should be more cautious. I’m not ready to trust a man again, and Eric has his own issues, which I respect. The biggest issue? He’s going to leave when Julie’s holiday ends. No matter what, I’ll end up heartbroken, and I couldn’t piece myself together a second time. But all the arguments in the world can’t subdue the way my nerve endings are buzzing at the mere prospect of being in Eric’s proximity. Drawing in a deep breath, I knock at the door. I hear footsteps from the other side and Julie’s excited voice. “She’s here. She’s here.” Seconds later, the door swings open.
“Hi, Pippa,” Eric greets me. “What did you bring?”
“Dessert, of course. Ice cream.”
Eric steps back as I enter the house, and our fingers brush by accident. The slight touch sends tendrils of heat through me, singeing me. I catch my breath as Eric pulls his hand behind him. Damn it. If this is what a simple brush of his fingers does to me, how will I survive the evening? The answer comes in the form of a bubbling twelve-year-old who wraps her arms around me. I will focus on Julie.
“Come on, Pippa,” she says without further ado. “The wings are almost ready.”
She takes my hand, leading me to the backyard. Eric tags behind us, and I can feel his eyes on me. I’m wearing a simple blue dress. The fabric is light, perfect for this weather, but it shows no cleavage, though it highlights my curves. I was out of tent-sized dresses, and it didn’t seem to do much good last time anyway.
“Won’t Ms. Blackwell eat with us?” I ask.
“No, she has the evening off,” Eric answers. “She’ll be back in a few hours.”
We eat in the backyard, next to the swimming pool. As we eat, Julie begins to talk about her week in the design class.
“And there is this girl, Sophie Ann, who keeps saying anyone who doesn’t wear a headband like she does isn’t cool, and I don’t know what to say back. I hate headbands.”
“Well,” Eric says, “you should tell her exactly that. No reason to pretend.”
“Yeah, I guess. What do you think, Pippa?”