“Seriously?”
“Yup.”
“Oh.” He turns and looks out of the window. “Huh.”
He’s silent for a long time. I squirm in my seat, wishing that I was anywhere else. Eventually, he clears his throat.
“So you don’t do relationships.”
“Nope.”
He looks at me sideways. “But do you date casually? No-strings-attached?”
My stomach flutters. “I could,” I say, trying to play it cool. “Maybe. If there was a guy I liked enough.”
His mouth quirks. He leans in slightly, so our arms are brushing together. My blood thumps through me. Holy shit. He’s flirting with me. He wasn’t turned off by me being a socially awkward weirdo after all. “If I kissed you again,” he says slowly, “would you run and hide in the loo? Because the lock is kind of tricky. Don’t want you getting stuck in there.”
“Dunno,” I whisper. “Try it and see.” My hands are sweating.
His smile widens. He reaches out to cup my face, giving me time to pull away.
I don’t. I press into his touch. His lashes dip. Very tentatively, he leans forward, brushing his mouth over mine.
I kiss him back, hard.
He responds instantly, wrapping a hand around my neck and pulling me closer, crushing our lips together fully. I twist a hand in his shirt and soften against him.
The kiss goes from zero to one hundred, fast. Months’ worth of pent-up frustration is heating up my body, lighting me up like fire under my skin. His big hands slide around my waist, and we both rock into each other. My fingers stroke under the hem of his t-shirt, and he shudders, the muscles in his chest tensing.
“Beth—” He gasps against my mouth. “I—”
A wolf-whistle pierces the air, and we both yank apart as the flat’s front door bangs open.
Twenty
Beth
Cyrus leans in the doorway and looks between us, smirking. He’s obviously just been to the gym; his dark hair is damp, and he’s dressed in a light grey tank top soaked with sweat. I very pointedly don’t look at his hard, gleaming biceps.
“I thought you were home,” Jack comments, drawing a circle on my thigh. I try to scoot away from him, embarrassed, but he just tightens his grip on me, his eyes heating.
Cyrus kicks off his shoes. “Got called out for a party. I crashed at the girls’ place for a few hours.”He dumps his gym bag on the floor, stretches, then looks down at us both. “Room for one more?” He asks, eyes twinkling cheekily.
I blink. “Sorry, what?”
Jack sighs. “God. Don’t start. That’s what got us into this whole mess in the first place.”
“And we got the cutest baby alive out of it. I’d call that a win, personally.” He yawns, rubbing a hand through his hair.
I frown. “I’m sorry, did I miss something?”
Cyrus crosses the room and slumps down onto the sofa next to me. Jack huffs as he drops his head in my lap, stretching his legs across the sofa cushions. “Can you show me how to make that apple mush, sugar?” He mumbles into my thigh. Heat rolls through me, making my stomach flip.
Jack squeezes my shoulder and stands. “More tea?” He asks, taking my mug.
“Um. No, thanks.” I turn to Cyrus. He’s pressed his cheek into my bare thigh. “You don’t really need to do anything, you just boil apples and blend them up.”
Cyrus mumbles something I don’t even understand. His eyes flutter closed. I stare at him as he falls asleep, a few pieces of dark hair curling over his forehead.