An Endless Summer(22)

I cocked my head and smiled. “Now why would I need one of those? I know exactly what kind of character you are, Sean Murphy.”

“Is that right?” He stepped closer, forcing me to lift my head to meet his eyes. He was so close we were almost touching, but I refused to be distracted. Not by the heat that emanated off his body, or the smell of his sharp, musty aftershave, or the feel of his breath. I refused to be sidetracked by the vivid blue of his eyes.

By anything.

Two could play at this game. I stepped closer as I looked him straight in the eyes.

“That’s right.”

“And what kind of character am I, then, Amy Henderson?” His voice was lower, hypnotic, and I fought not to be lost in it.

I smiled sweetly. “I think I’ve already told you.”

His eyes flicked over my face. He studied me with intense scrutiny and his gaze rested on my mouth for a split second and then back to the staring competition. Was he the one getting distracted now?

I bit my lower lip and his gaze followed the brief action; yep, he was distracted, all right.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Tell me again.”

“You mean the part where I called you a self-centred, womanising egomaniac? Or do you want me to elaborate on that?”

He quirked his brow. “I thought you’d have had a better imagination than that.”

My eyes narrowed as he leaned towards me. I froze as he closed the distance. My heart pounded in my chest and it was as if all the oxygen was sucked from the space between us. I bit my lip again, trying to control the shallow rise and fall of my chest as Sean leaned in and grabbed … my hand? He placed his over mine that held the doorknob to the apartment. He twisted the handle until it clicked and pushed lightly, trapping my hand under his. He didn’t let go, his cheek was near mine and it puffed out in a wicked grin.

“After you,” he whispered. His breath tickled against my cheek.

I wrenched my hand from under his, pushed the door wide open and strode in, grateful for the space as I walked to the farthest corner of the room. The French door was open, just how I had left it, in the hope that a constant flow of air would filter through the apartment. It was working. I had never been so grateful for the luxury of fresh air as I breathed it deep into my lungs, fighting to control the beating of my heart. I could only hope that I wasn’t scarlet red as I suspected my cheeks were. Oh, wouldn’t he just love that?

I avoided eye contact and looking at Sean in general. “Balcony’s that way.” I pointed at the open French door and then mentally slapped myself.

Where else would the balcony be, Captain Obvious?

If Sean had thought my stating the obvious was as dippy as I’d thought it was, he didn’t say anything.

He walked towards the open doors and stopped short of the hole in the floor.

I watched him hesitate. “I thought you said it was safe to walk on?” I asked, moving to stand beside Sean and peering out onto the balcony.

“It is,” he said.

“Then it’s okay to walk out there, right?” I asked.

When he didn’t answer, I took that as a yes, and stepped out onto the balcony, ensuring I gave that entire missing section a wide berth. I cocked my hip against the railing and looked out, down the hill at Lake Onslow, grateful that I could enjoy the view again.

I released a contented sigh. “Is there any place as pretty?” I turned, expecting to see Sean by my side, but he hadn’t moved from the apartment – not one step.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said.

I frowned and hoisted myself up to sit on the ledge. Sean’s brow furrowed and it was almost as if the colour visibly drained from his face.

I hooked my arm around the beam for support. “What’s wrong?”

“Do you really have to sit up there?”

My eyes widened. “Why? Is it not safe?” I looked around.

“I don’t think sitting on the edge of a two-storey building is ever safe, no.” His expression was serious, all humour long gone. This was a side of Sean I didn’t expect.

Interesting.

“So, doing this would be a really bad idea then?” I pulled myself up to stand on the ledge, holding onto the pole, like I had done a thousand times before when Mum and Dad weren’t around.

Sean’s eyes widened in horror.

“Amy, get down,” he bit out. He tentatively stepped forward onto the balcony, before stopping on the threshold.

I half expected Sean to march over, rip me from the ledge, and carry me downstairs over his shoulder while spouting out a giant lecture. My stomach flipped at the very thought. But instead, Sean’s jaw clenched and he gritted his teeth. He wasn’t looking at me; his focus was on the hole in the balcony. His hand grasped the doorframe with a white-knuckled intensity.