Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115737 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 579(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
My lungs begin to burn, and I realise I’m holding my breath. It all comes rushing out, so fast and so much of it, I lose my stability and make a grab for the bar.
‘Hey, you okay?’ Lizzy appears by my side, her eyes travelling between me and Jack as he leaves the bar.
‘Yes,’ I squeak, and the shakes set in, an aftermath of my encounter with the most handsome and intense man I’ve ever come across.
‘Well, wasn’t he just the finest piece of arse you’ve ever seen,’ Lizzy says, grinning at me, before slowly losing her chirpy face and replacing it with a worried frown. ‘Hey, you sure you’re okay?’
Jesus, I need to snap out of it. ‘Yes, fine.’ I shake myself back to life and swipe up my water, chugging it down at an epic rate.
‘So where’s he gone?’ she asks.
‘He was a cocky twat,’ I mutter indignantly, lying through my teeth. It’s the only way to go. Telling Lizzy that my body burned with want, not only every time Jack touched me, but with every word he spoke too, would be a mistake.
‘He could have been the rebound screw I need,’ Lizzy sighs in dismay.
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do. What a waste. You’ll regret this.’
‘Maybe,’ I muse, casting my eyes to the bar entrance, seeing no sign of him. He’s gone, and it’s beyond me why that’s making my stomach sink. ‘Anyway, are you okay?’ I divert, a sensible move. I need to forget the last half-hour ever happened. The best decision I’ve ever made? What, walking away? And what did he mean, for both of us?
‘Perfectly fine,’ Lizzy says, taking my arm and starting to walk us back to the table.
I look at her. ‘Micky definitely shouldn’t be your rebound fuck.’
‘We’re just flirting.’
I don’t miss the look that passes between them as we approach, but I’m too side-tracked to give the situation the concern it deserves, still tingling from top to toe. I look to the door again, his last words playing on repeat in my mind.
If I ever lay eyes on you again, Annie, I can’t promise I’ll do what’s best and walk away next time.
Chapter 3
The night ends with no further wobbles from me, but lots from my friends. Everyone is totalled, but having only drunk water since my enthralling encounter with one prime example of an unholy delicious man, I’ve maintained a sensible level of tipsiness. I’ve been knocked sideways, and it’s taken the rest of the evening to gather myself.
Lizzy has harped on endlessly about my failure to bed said man; Micky has flirted outrageously with Lizzy, and she with him; and Nat has worn away the wood of the dance floor.
It’s time for taxis.
‘It’s been the best night ever!’ Nat sings as I herd them like sheep to the line of cabs. She throws her arms into the air and swishes her hair. ‘And I fucking love my new hair! Do you love my new hair?’ She looks to Micky, who now has a wilting Lizzy in a headlock.
‘I fucking love your new hair,’ he agrees, hiccupping.
‘I think it makes you look older,’ Lizzy chimes in on a slur.
‘Sophisticated!’ Nat screeches indignantly. ‘Eh, Annie?’
‘Sophisticated,’ I confirm on a laugh. ‘In you get!’ I order, pulling open the door of a waiting cab and guiding them in one by one. Surprisingly, no one trips up the step, but they do all land in their seats with a thud. The taxi man looks at me, his years of experience telling him that I’m the one he needs to communicate with.
‘Evening,’ I say as I bend to get in, but as I lift my foot from the kerb something catches my attention across the road. I straighten my body to look over the roof of the cab as heat creeps through my veins, making my blood pound its way to my heart until it’s racing. If I ever lay eyes on you again, Annie, I can’t promise I’ll do what’s best and walk away next time.
He’s standing on the other side of the road, his hands resting lightly in his jeans pockets. And he’s staring across at me, intensity in his grey eyes shining bright, even from across the street. My stomach begins to fill with butterflies.
‘C’mon, Annie!’ Micky yells, reaching for my hand that’s resting on the door. ‘Get in!’
The rest of the group starts chanting, possibly telling me to get in the cab too, but I can’t hear them. Nor can I hear the rush of traffic as it zooms by; the cars passing between me and Jack are just a blur.
I don’t know what to do. Get in the cab – the sensible option – or shut the door and send my friends on their way – the stupid option. I’m not stupid. Never have been.