“You could have text me.”
“I can’t convince you to rethink if I text you.”
Oh. So that’s why he’s here. To talk me out of it. I scoff and pass him, going back into the bathroom to grab my toothbrush. “My mind is made up.” It’s the only way. “If you’d ever felt like this, you might understand.”
“The butterflies? The tingles? Yeah, been there.”
My toothbrush stops halfway to my mouth, my shocked eyes finding him in the mirror.What the fuck?John’s been single for as long as I’ve known him, which is basically forever. It’s never cost me a thought, to be fair. He’s hardly a cuddly bear pouring with affection that a woman couldn’t resist. “You have?” It’s all I can think to say, and judging by his scowl, he regrets opening his mouth.
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter who it was.”
“And what did you do?”
“Ignored it.” His eyebrows pop up above his glasses. “Because it wasn’t reciprocated.”
I sag. How many times have I got to tell him? “She feels it. She just needs a little... nudge.”
“Make sure it’s just a nudge,” he warns, backing out. “And for the love of God, whatever happens, keep your cool.”
“What makes you think I won’t?”
“Stupid motherfucker,” John mumbles, bringing the wood between us.
And I’m alone again. Alone with my pulse racing and my heart booming. I rest my hands on the edge of the sink, staring at myself. I should listen to John. If this fails, if she rejects me again, I need to let it go. And then what? Back to seeking solace in drink? No. I haven’t had a drink for five days and I feel great. With the exception of this awful anxiety, obviously.
I swallow and nod, mentally promising myself I’ll walk away from her. Because at this rate, I’ll have a fucking heart attack.
I finish brushing my teeth, rake a hand through my wet hair, and go into the suite to wait. How long will she be? I pace in circles for what feels like forever, the soles of my feet becoming warm from the friction on the carpet. I dump my arse on the chaise in front of the window. Get up. Pace some more. Fucking hell, have I ever felt so nervous? I don’t do nervous. It’s not in my DNA. It’s yet another sign that there’s more to this.
And then I hear something.
John.
On impulse, I go into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. If she walks in and sees me standing in the middle of the room, she’ll walk right back out.
I stand still.
Listen.
The door closes.
I breathe in, my heart going like the clappers, just with the thought of seeing her. She’s mere feet away from me. There’s a door between us. And I’m buzzing.
I brace my hands on the sink to get my breathing under control. I have to be together when I open that door. Calm but determined. I reach up to rake a hand through my hair, knocking my tin of hair wax to the tile floor as I do.Shit.My eyes fly to the door. It’s now or never. On a deep breath, I edge forward, take the handle, and pull it open.
She swings around and gasps.
And there she is.
My lungs fail me.
Her bag hits the floor, and the sound is deafening in the silence. I keep my mouth firmly shut and let her drink me in. She’s fidgeting, but she’s not running. Will she submit to me?
“Is this some kind of joke?” she asks over a nervous laugh, no doubt at my boldness. I can’t quite believe I’m doing this myself, but I need to have this woman. Fuck, I’ve got to have her. The fight stops now. I’ve never needed to go to these lengths. A woman has never done this to me, so here I am, half-naked, cornering my interior designer, desperate for her to admit the crazy chemistry we shared.
Her eyes wander all over my chest, and I just stand before her, letting her take me in, my eyes lowered slightly and burning with the need to blink. But I won’t blink. I don’t want to miss a moment of this look of awe on her face. I don’t want to miss the second she stops fighting me. She’s imagined this. She’s imagined my naked chest. What it would be like to kiss me. Be with me.