Page 48 of Perfect

His words ruffled me.

Coward, my insides screamed and I moved to look up at him. He didn’t turn to face me and remained looking across at the house. I felt like screaming, not wanting to believe that he was doing that denial thing—again! I was now past hiding.

“Really Connor? Now, who’s being childish? I kissed you and you kissed me back.” I hated to admit it but his words had driven a stake of pain through my heart.

A rush of crimson flashed across his God-like cheekbones. Good, I thought, you deserved it.

I gave it a couple of beats before I walked away, giving him the chance to take it back and admit that he’d wanted it too.

Unfortunately, I made an unintentional pig-like noise before strutting away towards the house, now desperate to shed the silly clothes I had decided to wear. After I’d taken a few steps, I stopped and turned. Connor was still standing in the same place, watching me with a guarded expression.

“Oh, and Connor?” I said, raising my voice to ensure he heard me. Our eyes were locked again and he angled his head slightly which was the only sign that I had his attention.

“I can assure you that it did—happenthat is.”

His jaw tightened and I blew him a pantomime-style kiss.

He’d kissed me back and heknewit, it was written in every regretful contour on his face. The fucker did have a weakness for me.

My sense of victory was immense and I twisted away, biting back the desire to taunt him further.

He wanted me,justlike all the others. The rules were mine and the outcome, if I wanted it, was inevitable. I turned away with a triumphant smile.

As I made my way to my room, I truly understood the saying of the cat that got the cream as I thought about the magic of Connor’s mouth against mine.

I had him. He may not like it but there was no doubt about it that Connor Barratt was as hot for me as all the others.

I entered my room and pulled the baggy top over my head, meeting my face in the mirror. I paused with my fingers in the waistband of my sweatpants, eyeing the girl in the glass. She seemed different like something had changed. Like thelittle lost girl was gone and the confident seventeen-year-old that I was, had finally risen.

*****

After a lengthy, much-needed shower, I padded back into my room from the bathroom, brushing my freshly conditioned hair. As I threw the hairbrush onto my bed, I turned towards the dressing table to see a small bunch of flowers on the side.

I approached with a frown, had they been there when I’d come in?

They were laid over a postcard of a seaside setting and I pulled the card out to see handwriting on the back.

Happy Belated Birthday, Con x.

The ache that came with thoughts of Connor returned and my face lit up.

The flowers were tied together with a piece of string and had obviously been handpicked. They were also wildflowers which of course immediately made me think of Connor.

I allowed the wave of pleasure to wash over me as I re-read the card and then another thought popped in there. Connor must have entered my room, whilst I was in the shower. That sent another shard of excitement into me.

Trotting over to the window, with the card, held lovingly against my chest, I searched for Connor in the yard below. He was in the process of attaching some machinery to the back of the tractor and he froze suddenly as if sensing he was being watched.

My eyes ate him up, his broad shoulders flexed as he stopped fiddling with the attachment. He wore thick leather gloves that only added to my excitement. The tats on his arm screamed bad boy.

I bit my lip as he turned his head and looked up towards my window. Our eyes met and I smiled back at him, flicking the card towards him in a thank you gesture. He returned my smile with a curt nod of his dark head before turning back to his task.

I literally danced away from the window and collected the flowers so I could pop them in some water, grinning ear to ear. Pleasure fizzed through me, his gesturehad been so romantic and so not what I had expected, which only made it more special.

After popping downstairs for a vase to display the flowers in, I must have sat back on my bed admiring them for ages.

My first bunch of flowers and just like the pleasure and feeling pumping through my body, I hope they and it never died.

I spent the next couple of hours reading in my room and then dropped my mother a call. It was still fairly early in the evening and so she wouldn’t have cracked open the bottle just yet. The conversation was positive and more coherent than usual which was good. Thankfully, my time away from home seemed to have changed my mother’s usual routine.

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