I can smell his scent, and I hate that it makes my head spin from pleasure, no matter that it's always the same: the mix of his mint shower gel, his citrus shampoo, and the heat of his body.
How can he always smell as if he just got out of the shower? And why do I like it even though I hate him?
His dark brown hair falls on his face, and he runs his hand through it to push it back, exposing his perfect face to me. His hazel eyes sparkle because of the sunlight that floods through the window, and his smooth olive skin glitters.
I swallow, hating myself for admiring his perfection. Even though I don't like him, I have to admit that I've never seen a more handsome guy than the one in front of me.
"He said he can't handle a long-distance relationship, and I can't move in with him because I’m going to England," I finally confess, looking away.
That's only partially true, but Josh doesn't need to know it.
I don't miss Chad anymore. I don't even think about him. But the bitterness of the thought that he was the one who dumped me left a few scratches on my ego. Especially when I have to confess it to my worst enemy.
"He's an idiot," Josh says to my surprise after a long pause. His voice is even, and when I look up at him again, I can see that he's serious, "If he can't keep his dick in check, he doesn't deserve you."
"Says a guy who puts his dick into every single woman who offers," I chuckle, shaking my head, laughing at how ridiculous it is to get relationship advice from a guy like Josh.
"I would like to be committed to one woman, I really would." He looks deeply into my eyes as he speaks.
He leans closer, and his elbow touches mine now. He's serious, that's for sure. There isn't even a hint of a smile on his face.
"I just haven’t dated her yet," he adds, his gaze not leaving mine for a second; he doesn't even blink.
For only a moment, it seems to me that he's talking about someone he already knows. He didn't say he hasn't met her yet. He said,'I haven’t dated her yet,'and that's a big difference.
I swallow, forcing myself to look away, but I can't. It seems like my eyes are stuck on his gaze.
"By the way, you should've broken up with him the first time he called youkitten." Josh chuckles and pulls away from me again.
And here we are, back to the Josh I know: rude and tactless.
"What's so funny about that name?" I ask, raising an eyebrow. "I thought it was cute."
"It would be cute if you were five," he retorts right away, "but since you're a grown woman, it doesn't fit you."
"Oh, yeah? And what would you call me?" I ask, immediately regretting it.
I don't want him coming up with another nickname for me that he can use for the rest of our lives.
"You know what," he says, almost whispering and moving closer again, leaning on his elbow, his face inches away from mine. "Sapphire."
I swallow, holding a breath. I can't believe he remembers.
The airplane suddenly seems to shrink around us, and it's too stuffy in here.
"Your eyes are so blue, I'm gonna call you Sapphire," Josh said, smiling at me. It was my tenth birthday.
"What's that?" I asked, smiling at him in response.
"It's a jewel. My mom has a necklace with it. She says it's important to her and very expensive. I'm gonna call you that because you're important to me."
Those memories burst into my head like a tornado, without asking for permission. The memories I’ve tried so hard to forget but couldn't.
Since that day, Josh started calling me Sapphire, and I called him Hazel because of the color of his eyes. They're intense, not light brown or dark green, but a pure hazel color.
Our eyes lock again, and for a couple of long, torturously slow seconds, I feel like I can't breathe.
Josh is so close to me that I can smell his breath on my skin. And the way he looks at me...his eyes travel...from mine to my lips...as if he...