Page 33 of Electric Touch

“It would be nice, but given we’re having guitar lessons and have a teacher - student relationship, sex will muddy the waters.”

“I love the way your mind works, Adrestia,” he laughs. “It’s not like I’m your teacher, though.”

“You can call me Tia,” I say.

“I prefer Adrestia,” he says, sitting forward, so he’s closer. “It’s sexier.”

“Well, you might not want to have sex with me.” I continue our earlier discussion to divert what he just said about my name. And the way it made my stomach flutter.

“That’s true, I might not,” he grins.

“So we’re on the same page,” I smile.

“Seems like.”

Why does he look like he is thinking the complete opposite of what he just said?

Chapter Eleven

Honestly, this woman is something else. I don’t think I’ve ever talked with someone who could be so extroverted, or forthcoming. It’s not like she is rude about it. But now I’m thinking about sex with her and that is bad. Also, she hasn’t said she doesn’t want to. She used our guitar lessons as an excuse. And that won’t always be the case once she’s learnt enough.

Shit, stop.

I look up and see Riley glaring at me. My jaw tightens. I used to be able to read her. All I see now is her anger. What the hell does she get to be angry about? Looking back at Adrestia, I know I can’t use her to make Riley jealous. I don’t need to do anything. Seeing me talking to this gorgeous woman is doing that already.

I focus on Adrestia when she glances at where my attention has gone and her head cocks. She is going to ask me about it, and I don’t want to talk about Riley right now.

“Sex would be great. I’m not gonna lie. You’re sexy, you intrigue me. I’d do it in a heartbeat if we were both on the same page. I’m enjoying getting to know you. Sex would complicate that. Besides, I’m not in a position to offer you anything right now.” I run a hand through my hair, embarrassed, but I feel comfortable talking to her. “With all the shit I’ve got going on.”

“I know,” she nods. “It must be hard. Being around her,” she subtly nods at Riley. It’s good to know she can be subtle when necessary.

“Yeah, I guess. Management isn’t happy about how things have been.”

“The Instagram posts,” Adrestia deduces. “They were rather unkind to you. I can understand why your managers would be concerned. Is it all sorted out now?”

“More or less.” I clear my throat.

“Good,” she senses this is getting uncomfortable. “So no sex. But we will spend time together. Learning how to play the guitar,” she adds quickly.

“Yeah.” I stare at her and get lost in her eyes. Fuck, she’s a work of art.

We spend the next hour on the sofa, talking. The party goes on around us but I barely notice anyone else. Adrestia talks about living in Greece for the first six years of her life. I’m surprised to learn about her musical father, but she doesn’t elaborate much. I lose all track of time talking to her. Dylan pops up to say they’re heading to a club just after midnight, asking if we want to go.

Adrestia’s friend comes over, disappointing Jack. She has plans tomorrow and both of them are leaving. I take a chance and give Adrestia a hug, which she accepts. For a moment, I press her whole body against me. She is so soft and I inhale the scent I can’t get out of my head.

Something comes over me as she pulls back. I lean forward and press my lips to hers, just for a quick kiss. She gasps and I pause before pulling away, my lips mere centimetres from hers. Heart pounding, I move, so they brush together again. Then again, and I tilt my head and kiss her again. A hand slaps down on my shoulder.

I turn to Dylan, looking quizzically at me. Asshole. When I look back at her, she’s all flushed. Her friend is behind her, bouncing on her toes with a gleeful look.

For some stupid reason, I turn to see if Riley is watching. Adrestia’s eyes follow mine, then she looks back at me and her expression drops. Her eyes shutter and she looks like she wants nothing more than to get away from me.

“See you Sunday,” I say, feeling a lot like a fucking prick. I should not have kissed her like that.

“Yes, have a good night,” she clips, then turns and leaves. For a second I think about going after her and apologising. She’s fast and before I can turn, she’s out the door. I put my hands on my hips and look at the floor. That was a dick move and I feel awful.

“Who was that?” Dylan asks, not sensing my mood.

“No one,” I say.

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