Page 37 of That Secret Something

I sighed, feeling some of the tension leave my muscles.

Rebecca appeared beside me, her fingers sliding around my waist. “Are you okay?”

Goosebumps rippled over my skin. “I think so, yeah.”

“Good.” She pressed me up against the back of my sofa, our positions reversed from the night before. Her fingers felt soft as she brushed the blonde hair out of my face, tucking it behind my ear. I dreaded to think what my hair looked like. It often resembled an angry squirrel’s tail on a good day, never mind after a night of mind-bending sex.

Rebecca leaned her body into mine, our bare breasts touching. My breath hitched in my throat, and her mouth ticked up in a grin. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of that reaction,” she commented.

Was I so obvious?

Probably.

“I guess I’m not very good at this.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “You couldn’t be more wrong. You’re very sexy, Jess.”

I glanced away. “That’s not what I mean—”

She moved back into my line of sight. “Do you not like it when I tell you you’re sexy?”

I fought the urge to look away again, feeling warmth flush my cheeks. “I’m just not. I don’t feel it, anyway. I’m the opposite of you.”

She leaned back, creating a bit of space between us, her hands slipping down to my waist. “What do you mean?”

“Your dark features. Tall and—”

“So you want to be taller?”

I nudged her playfully. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

She smiled, her eyes flitting up to meet mine. “Don’t focus on the things you don’t have. I could say the same about you. I wish I was as smart as you. As devastatingly cute or as brave. But that’s all you.”

I snorted. “I wouldn’t exactly say I’m brave. Quite the opposite.”

She traced my bottom lip with her finger, and she lowered her voice to a whisper. “You couldn’t be more wrong.”

“You do know you’ve already seduced me, so you can cut the rubbish now?”

She let out a husky chuckle. “Is that so? I have a suspicion that you don’t like to talk about yourself. Maybe deflection is your way of being comfortable?”

I opened my mouth to argue, but the sound died in my throat. She had a point. But I wasn’t about to admit that. “That wasn’t what I meant, anyway. I meant that I’m not good at these situations.” I whispered, “One-night stands.”

She puckered her lips. “Is that all this is? A one-night stand?”

Shit. Did I read this wrong?

I stumbled over my words, failing to find anything coherent. Rebecca’s lips suddenly brushed against mine and took everything else away with them. I pulled her closer to me, our mouths melting together, until we parted for air, both breathing heavily.

“I’m just messing with you, Grant,” Rebecca said. “I know what this is.” She straightened herself, her gaze still glued to my lips. “Is a cup of tea going?” Without waiting for an answer, she strolled into the kitchen and flipped on the kettle.

This whirlwind woman. I could barely keep up. I followed her into the kitchen area and leaned against the black granite counters as she rifled through the cupboards in search of mugs. I watched her with amusement and straightened my glasses. “Enlighten me then. What is this?”

She grinned, finally finding the mugs and placing two on the counter. “It’s somewhat of an English tradition. Something we commit our lives to drinking at least three times a day. Without tea, I’m not sure we could call ourselves English at all.”

“Not tea.” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t be an arse.”

The kettle hummed in the background. She plopped two tea bags into the mugs and spun to face me, her grin stretching across her face. “This is whatever we want it to be. We’re young. We’re single. What’s wrong with having a little fun?” She slinked towards me.

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