Page 2 of Resisting Temptation

“I’ve never met a girl who wriggles around so much in their sleep.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest as his eyes brim with amusement, crinkling at the corners.

I bolt upright, my heart pounding in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin in sheer terror. “Did we sleep together?” I screech at the top of my lungs. How drunk was I last night? Frantically, I scan the room for my dress and then run my handsdown my body. I’m still in the cherry-red sheath dress I wore on my blind date. I’m not naked. My heart settles a little.

“We sure did, sweetheart!” He winks with a devilish grin that makes it all the way to his boyish dimples.

I blink back at him, eyes wide, trying to remember the night before. But I’ve got nothing. This is bad. Really bad. Jake and I don’t sleep together. I promised myself I never would, he’s in the friend zone, and we both like it that way. “What the hell, Jake.” My glare turns icy. How dare he let this happen. He knows how trashed I was last night.

Playfully, he tosses a pillow at me, and it bops me on the head. “Stop sweating, Paisley. After you got rid of your horrendous date and the two of us had a good laugh about it, you had a few too many bourbons, and I let you sleep it off here.” His eyes meet mine more seriously. “We just slept. No sex.” He spells it out for me, really slowing it down.

I hug the pillow to my chest, my heart still racing wildly. “For heaven’s sake, Jake, you couldn’t have led with that? You damn near gave me a heart attack.”

“I should be insulted,” he mutters under his breath, relaxing back in his bed with one arm behind his head.

With a grunt, I use the sturdy bed frame for support, pulling myself up to stand. My head spins, and I can only imagine the mess I must look, like a baby giraffe trying to stand for the first time. “Except you’re not. We both know at this point, it would be like sleeping with a sibling.” I toss the pillow in his direction, trying to lighten the mood.

He catches it, looking at me with too much longing for my liking. He knows this is just friendship, it’s never going any further than that. We tried on a date last year, but there’s no spark. No chemistry. He knows this as well as I do. With a heavy sigh, he shakes his head in disappointment. “You’re a train wreck, Paisley Whittaker. Stop blind dating losers and gettingblackout drunk to forget,” he huffs, hopping out of bed and moving into his ensuite.

I can see I’ve hurt him, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. He’s been such a dear friend to me over the years, and I really do adore him, just as a friend. Through the opening of the ensuite door, I watch him wash his face and brush his teeth. Nausea rolls over me and settles in the pit of my stomach like a lead balloon. Not many people would have the guts to say something so honest to my face, but he’s right. As sad as it is to say, I’m a total train wreck. I can’t do this to myself anymore. It’s humiliating. No more blind dates, no more dating full stop. I need to pull my shit together. I’m too old to be torturing myself in this way.

Since leaving Jake’s this morning, I’ve showered and changed out of last night’s outfit. The Venti cappuccino I picked up from Bay Roaster’s Café on my way home is making me feel somewhat human again. But nothing can get rid of the uneasy feeling I have knowing I’ve hit rock bottom. Last night was a complete disaster. And crashing at Jake’s place, in his bed, is just plain dangerous. I must have been out of control for him to even consider taking me home with him. Normally when I’ve had a few too many, he just calls my besties, Emerson or Mae, to come and pick me up and drag me home.

A flash of blue pulls my attention to the front window of the townhouse I share with Mae and Gisele. Squinting, I make out a removalist truck pulling into the driveway of the house next door. Two burly-looking men hop out of the front and unlatch the back door. It’s filled to the brim with boxes and furniture. A second vehicle pulls up. This one is a matte-black sports car of some sort. It looks imported and flashy, forcing me to stand and make my way to the living room window for a better view.I sip my coffee while watching the three men carrying item after item inside the old house. This might just be how I spend my day recovering.

My roommate and best friend in the entire world, Dorothy-Mae, pushes me aside. “What are you staring at so intently?” she asks, gawking out the front window.

The guy who pulled up in the sports car removes his cap, then pulls his shirt right over his head and tucks it into the back pocket of his blue jeans. A tattoo runs down his back, looks like some sort of animal. A jaguar, maybe. I let out a groan of appreciation. “That.” I motion to the tanned muscular hunk who’s lugging his stuff into the old Harrington place. Since old Mrs. Harrington died a couple of years back, the two-story Victorian-style house has had a string of short-term renters calling the place home. Looks like this one might just be my new favorite. “We need a little eye candy in this street to make up for the old busybodies.”

“Oh, we so do.” She smirks playfully. Mae might be shy, but it’s obvious she’s just dying for a little adventure in her life, some guy to come along and sweep her off her feet. But she needs to get in line because I’m five years older than her and so much more desperate. “Not sure I can handle another of Mrs. Rashford’s rumors. You know last week she told Hailey Delaney from Pecan Pie Bakery that she heard you were an escort, that’s why we constantly have a new car parked in the driveway every week.” Mae shakes her head, disgusted by the old woman’s gossip.

My eyes meet hers, filled with absolute horror. I don’t want to hear it this morning. I’m not that bad. It’s not even every week. Maybe this year I have been a little more promiscuous than normal, but that’s just because I’m on edge. I’m about to turn thirty-one and still no prospects in sight. I’m feeling frantic.“Jesus, doesn’t she have anything better to do with her time?” I gape back at my bestie.

“Apparently not. Don’t worry, though, Hailey set her straight. Told her if she had nothing nice to say she should keep her mouth shut. It was pretty funny.”

I chuckle as I envision the scene. Mrs. Rashford would have been appalled if a teenager had told her off, but she deserves it; she go around saying whatever she wants just because she's old. It’s unneighborly.

“What are you guys doing?” Gisele calls to us as she comes into the living room of the three-bedroom townhouse we all share.

“Checking out the hottie moving in next door. Tattooed, sculpted back and torso, and look at that ass, you can tell he works out.” I fan my face, showing them just how hot and bothered he has me. My luck might just be changing, with the universe handing me this hottie on a silver platter. I get a vision of myself scurrying over his back fence in the dark of night for a steamy hook-up, and I smile, my body coming back to life again.

Gisele squeezes in between us so she can gawk at herself. “Not bad at all,” she agrees.

“Not bad! He’s divine, girl. I think I’m in love,” I gush, covering my heart.

Mae chuckles at my dramatics. “Just need him to turn around so you can see his face, he might be a shrimp.”

“I’ve been waiting for a solid ten minutes, surely he’ll turn around soon, right?”

Gisele shakes her head in disbelief at the two of us and heads toward the kitchen. “And when he does, you two will look like the creepy neighbors peeping through the window. Perfect story to tell your grandkids.” She laughs cheerfully. She’s the happiest person I know. It’s okay for her, she’s all loved up and content with her new boyfriend, Brody. The rest of us single girls needa little man candy to brighten our day. Especially a day that started out how today did for me.

Mae and I shrug at each other then get back to stalking. I could live with that as my “how I met the man of my dreams” story. At this point, by the time I find my partner, I’ll be too old to have children, let alone grandchildren. So, if he’s out there, he better hurry the hell up.

“What’s all the commotion?” Brody, Gisele’s boyfriend, asks as the two of them come into the living room with fresh coffees. I roll my eyes at him. He drives me nuts. I still have no idea what Gisele sees in the grump, but they seem head over heels.

“Paisley’s losing her shit over our hot new neighbor.” Mae laughs, throwing me under the bus when she has been standing right by my side this whole time.

Brody joins us, shoving the curtain back further so he can catch a glance. “Think you might need to get your eyes checked, Paisley. That there is Noah Harrington. Don’t you hate his guts?” He chuckles like this is the funniest thing he’s ever seen.

My brow wrinkles at the thought. Hastily I make my way to the front window, pulling back the drapes and squinting, only to find the guy finally turning around. Noah Harrington’s dumb face comes into full view, causing my heart to hammer so hard I think it’s going to damn well jump out of my chest. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Of all the streets in this town, why is he moving onto mine? “You have got to be kidding me. He’s moving back to town?” I glance back at my friends, anger radiating off me, not sure what to do.

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