Page 7 of The Unwanted Love

My stomach flutters. He’s asking about boys.Does that mean he’s jealous?Does that mean he wants to find out if I have a boyfriend? That’s why I asked him if he has a girlfriend, after all."Of course, that includes boys." I toss my head. "But you can rest assured, I don’t have a boyfriend, at the moment."

"Huh?" He seems taken aback by my freely-offered information.Is it wrong I told him that?I mentally slap my forehead.Damn, I should have held back that particular piece of info. I shouldn’t have laid it all out like that. When am I going to learn to restrain myself?

"You don’t have a boyfriend,at the moment?" he asks slowly.

"Umm, I… I don’t." I begin to play with my hair, then realize it’s a dead giveaway of how uncomfortable I’m feeling. And this, despite telling him the truth. Once again, I can’t help but wish I had a little more life experience. Compared to him, I feel so gauche. Ugh.

"Well, you should."

"Eh?" I stare.

"You’re eighteen. And beautiful. And smart. And well-read." He gestures to all the books in the room. "Some boy is going to come along and fall head over heels for you." A strange look crosses his face as he says that.

Then he wipes it from his features, his expression turning aloof, and somewhat impersonal.

I’ve never seen him use that expression with me before, but instinct tells me, this is how he comes across with his team-members. Without a shadow of a doubt, I know that it’s his game face. And he’s using it with me. It’s a brush off. A polite one. But a brush off, nevertheless.

My cheeks flame. Heat flushes my skin. "I…don’t want a boy," Isay through gritted teeth.I don’t want anyone else. I want you.I say that silently. But he might as well have heard it, for his features grow even more remote.

"Ben is waiting for me." He draws himself up to his full height. "It’s best I leave." He turns and heads out of the room.

Why…that… That wanker!I all but came out and told him I feel something for him, and he didn’t even acknowledge it. He pretended he didn’t understand what I was hinting at, when I have no doubt that someone as sharp as him would know exactly what I was trying to say.

"Oh my god, I’m so stupid!" I throw myself on my bed.Aargh! Why did I say that? Why could I not be all mysterious and sophisticated like the other women he must meet? Why could I not stay quiet instead of blabbing out what was on my mind? And why did I have to stare at him like I’ve never seen him before?To be fair, I haven’t seen him for a while—and I certainly haven’t spent so much time with him in such close quarters. I got one chance to make an impression with him and I blew it. I punch my fist into the bed. "I’m so naive. So. So. Naive."

"Yes, you are…but in a good way."

I freeze.Was that—I jackknife into a sitting position to find he’s watching me from the foot of the bed.

"What the—" I scrabble back, until my back is pressed into the headboard. I grab a pillow and hug it to my chest—as if that’s going to hide me from him. It’s bad enough I was having a meltdown, but that he witnessed it is mortifying.

He sees the panic on my face and throws up his hands palms facing me. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I, uh… I realized I shouldn’t have walked away from you like that and decided to come back, only you—" His lips quirk. "You were…talking to yourself."

The heat under my skin turns into a tsunami of embarrassment that crashes over me. I wish I could sink through the bed and through the floor so I wouldn’t have to witness my own humiliation.

"Kill me already." I squeeze my eyes shut. "I am so, so mortified." I hold my pillow up in front of my face so he can’t see it.

"Hey, it’s okay."

I sense him drawing closer and hug my pillow harder. "It’s not okay, it’s never going to be okay," I moan.

"I can tell you from experience that things are never as bad as they seem." That hint of amusement in his voice is gone. In its place is earnestness.

It’s what makes me raise my head and scowl at him. "I hate it when people older than me say that. It’s not much consolation to hear that because it doesn’t help me at all right now."

His features soften, then he sits down on the bed. My heart kicks into my ribcage.Okay. Okay. Breathe, Bitch. It’s only the man you’ve hero-worshipped from afar, the man who's your brother’s best friend, and fifteen years older than you, and who you haven’t stopped thinking of since you first saw him, who’s not only in your room but also sitting on your bed.My breath comes in short huffs.No, no, I am not going to hyperventilate. I’m not.

"Are you okay?" He scans my features. "You look like you’re about to have another melt down."

I try to answer in the negative, but my voice comes out in a squeak.

His features grow worried. He glances around, spots the jug and glass of water on my nightstand, and moves toward it. He pours me a glass of water and holds it out. "Drink."

My eyebrows shoot up at his bossy tone. Of course, that might be because he’s used to issuing orders. But somehow… I think it’s more than that. I want to protest and tell him I don’t care for his domineering tone, but my body seems to think otherwise. I've already extended my arm. I take the glass from him and take a few sips.

"Drink it all." His stance implies he’ll be happy to stand over me all day, until I obey.

His persistence has nothing to do with how I lift the glass and proceed to drink down the water. I hand the empty glass over to him.

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