Ryan quickly pulls me up as Alex jumps up again to cover himself with the duvet.
‘Lilly! What the fuck!’
‘Hi Poppy,’ Alex smiles awkwardly, his face like beetroot.
‘Sorry,’ she giggles.
‘It's not funny! This is Ryan’s bed!’
‘Well I’m very sorry. I didn’t realise you were needing it tonight,’ she says scornfully. ‘And for goodness sakes Poppy, I get that you wanna give him a blowie, but stand up. At least wait until we’ve left.’
‘What?’ I exclaim, horrified. One blush blends into another. ‘My hair is fucking caught! Now get out and go down to the barbeque and try to act like grown-ups.’
‘Coming from the girl with her hair stuck in a boy’s zipper.’
‘You’re hardly in a position to judge me right now,’ I snap.
‘I’m really sorry guys,’ Alex says, grabbing his jeans and putting them on. ‘Can we just pretend this never happened?’
‘Trust me,’ Ryan says, his face pained ‘it's already forgotten.’
They trudge out, still half-dressed and Ryan sits on the bed, me crouching underneath him. Before I can come up with a solution he pulls off his jeans and hands them to me. I take them, struggling not to look at his half naked body in front of me. Do not look at his package.
I put all my attention to the jeans. My hair has curled around the zip and formed a knot. I struggle around with it and after what seems like an eternity I manage to undo myself from it.
‘Ah. Finally free,’ I say relieved, sitting back on the floor exhausted.
‘Can I have my jeans back now?’ he asks, the hint of a smirk on his face.
‘Oh yeah. Of course, sorry.’ I pass them back to him, blushing. What a fool I am. ‘Hey, you’ve got really hairy legs,’ I say before I can stop myself.
‘Looking at my masculine legs then, huh? God, you just can't stop yourself can you?’ His eyes dance, he’s enjoying the idea more than he should.
‘Yeah, I guess you’re just too much of a hunk for me to ignore,’ I say drily, standing up to leave.
‘So....You really are ticklish aren’t you?’ he says, standing up.
Am I imagining it or is he trying to make me stay here a bit longer with him?
‘Oh, a little bit,’ I say trying not to smile.
‘Oh my God,’ he says, looking beyond me. ‘Did you do this?’
I follow his gaze to the photo collage I did for him, using all his Australia photos I found on his desk while snooping earlier. I just wanted to find a picture of his ex-girlfriend. That's not weird, right?
‘Yeah,’ I say, suddenly aware that I must look like a bunny boiler. ‘It just seemed such a shame, you having all those great photos and them not being on display.’
‘You’re right. It looks great, thanks.’
‘Sorry,’ I say suddenly all too aware that this was too much. He hates how I’ve tried to take over. I’m suffocating him. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to go through your stuff.’ I turn and quickly make a dash for the door.
‘No,’ he says, grabbing my arm and making me turn to him. ‘I love it. Thank you.’
He locks his eyes with mine and every muscle in my body reacts. He walks forward and gently throws me playfully against the wall. My breathing starts to quicken as ripples of pleasure go along my body.
He leans into me, but I look down at the floor. I’m too used to jumping to conclusions with him. I will not assume ever again that he is interested in me. The rejection is too painful.
He presses his forehead against mine and I look up at him. Now that we’re so close I notice that he’s panting too.
‘Look,’ I begin. ‘I can't do this.’
‘Do what?’ he says, tracing his fingers up my arm, a look in his eyes which says he knows exactly what I’m talking about.
‘You know...that. I can't do that,’ I stammer, trying not to swallow my own tongue.
‘Really? Why not?’ he asks, still tracing his fingers, seeming as cool as a cucumber. But then he’s probably used to seducing women, I remind myself.
‘Because...’ God. Why can't I? I really can't remember. It's like his fingers are erasing all sensible thoughts in my head. My hormones are just taking over.
‘Because?’ he grins, his soft voice overwhelming.
‘Because I don't want to be another...thing on your bedpost.’
‘Thing?’ He looks amused, still not moving his forehead from mine. ‘Do you mean notch?’
‘Yes! Notch. That's what I meant. We should...just be friends.’ Why couldn’t I think of the word!? Now I look like a right idiot.
He runs both his hands up my arms, barely touching me but making me quiver. His wicked fingers run up to my shoulders, then my neck. His eyes are gloriously intense. I break away from the intensity of his stare, it too much to bear. Maybe I should just sleep with him. Get rid of this tension. Then I can go about my normal life.
His hands creep up from my neck to my face, making every hair on my body stand on end. He turns my head back to face him and I try to avert my eyes, not wanting to be entranced by his. But I can't help it. I look into them and see a night long of passion and ecstasy.
‘Because you think I’m just going to hit it and quit it with you?’
I can't speak. I literally cannot make a sound. I’m just dumbfounded by him. I manage to nod.
‘Well actually, no.’ A wicked grin lights up his face. ‘But then...maybe you’re right. We should just be friends.’ He smiles, kisses me on the cheek slowly and leaves me panting in the room.
What? I mean seriously, what the fuck? Where was my expected speech about how much he adores me? Where he confesses to being secretly in love with me and how of course I’d never be a notch – a notch you idiot – on his bed post. How he’d want to wake up to me every morning. But no. It seems my first opinion about him was right. He’s really just a man whore who enjoys playing with my emotions. I’m a little toy for him to play with when he’s bored.
When I walk back down the stairs to join them he’s already back sitting under the gazebo with Grace. He watches me, amusement all over his face, as I sit down with the rest of them at the table. How embarrassing – he’s laughing at me. Well he can go jump off a cliff for all I care. Grace is lying down next to him, seeming to be chatting away, but he’s just ignoring her and won't stop staring at me.
I try to act like normal and get involved in the others’ conversation about the local rubbish man but I keep looking up to see if he’s still staring. And each time he is. Grace starts trying to tickle him, clearly trying to relive our play, but he ignores her.
Maybe. Just maybe. I might be wrong.
Chapter 29
‘OK, you can have a little rest now,’ Izzy says to me as we walk into the kitchen after another power walk.
‘O..kay,’ I say between pants.
‘But after that I’m gonna make us some eggs and then run you a hot bath.’
Why is she treating me like a baby? I know she thinks I’m some sort of project for her, but when is she going to realise it doesn’t matter how many times she makes me do star jumps around the park – I will never be a size zero.
‘You need to look your best for tonight.’
My body tenses at the mention of it. Tonight is Ryan’s work charity do. He made a point of reminding me about it during the week and pointing out that I didn’t need to worry. It was just as friends. He seriously enjoys taking the piss out of me. I’m so scared of having to dress up and try to be graceful. I don't get why he didn’t just ask some bimbo instead. Some bimbo who knows how to act at these events. But still, it doesn’t stop me nearly have a heart attack at the thought of spending an evening with him.
I have an hour’s nap and then wake up to Izzy’s boiled eggs with wholemeal toast.
‘I’ve drawn you a bath too. It’s ready when you are,’ she says, with half a piece of toast still in her mouth.
‘OK thanks.’
When I go up, the smell of bubble bath is already coming down the stairs. When I open the door the bath is full of bubbles and I sink in, my aching muscles sighing in relief.
As I walk down the stairs feeling as fresh as a daisy, I think I can hear familiar voices.
‘Jazz? Are you here?’
‘Ta-daaaaa!’ she shouts, jumping out into the hallway.
‘Are we greeting each other this way now?’ I ask, smiling. ‘Because I like that.’
‘Come on,’ she says, grabbing my hand, her eyes bulging out in excitement. ‘I’ve got a surprise for you.’
‘Really? What?’
I walk into the room looking quizzically at her and Izzy sat on the bed with the same wide eyed smiles. She opens the wardrobe and pulls out a hanger.
‘Tah Dah!’ she says, exposing a dress from underneath dry cleaners wrappers.
‘Oh, wow,’ is all I can mutter, mesmerised by its beauty.
Staring back at me is a long deep green strapless gown. It’s ruched at the boob with a line of crystals and emeralds underneath it and the satin material is covered with an organza kind of material, hanging freely to the floor. It's probably the most beautiful dress I’ve ever seen.
‘You like it?’ Jazz says, apprehensively.
I can't even speak, I’m too shocked.