Page 27 of Long Story Short

‘Jake…’

‘Freya…’

We said each other’s name in unison as we approached the doors. Then we both smiled, the tension easing a little bit between us.

‘I shouldn’t have said what I said,’ Jake said, running a hand through his hair as we hovered outside our rooms in the empty, quiet hotel corridor.

‘You took me by surprise,’ I admitted. ‘But I kind of liked knowing you’d been thinking about me.’

‘It’s hard not to,’ he said gruffly. ‘I shouldn’t, though.’

‘Why not?’ I asked boldly.

‘There is a long list of reasons…’ Jake shook his head. ‘I’m trying to remember them but you’re giving me the kind of look that’s making it very difficult.’

I let out a breath. ‘What kind of look?’ I wondered if my attraction to him was showing on my face. By the darkening of his eyes, it definitely was. But seeing his made me feel less worried about him seeing mine.

Jake moved towards me. I moved so my back touched my hotel room door. He stopped instantly. ‘No closer?’ he asked, watching me carefully.

‘No, it’s just, I felt like I needed to lean…’ I was feeling distinctly unsteady.

‘Okay.’ He moved closer. ‘Me too.’ He propped an arm up against my hotel door so he was slightly leaning towards me but he didn’t touch me. There were inches of air between us even though suddenly, it felt like there was no air in this whole hotel. My eyes locked onto his. ‘Have you ever thought about me?’ he asked then, so quietly, I had to strain to hear the question. It was as though he didn’t want to admit he was asking me it.

I nodded slowly, keeping my eyes on his. ‘Yeah, I have,’ I admitted, keeping my voice as soft as his.

Jake exhaled audibly. ‘I like knowing that,’ he said, repeating what I had told him.

‘But I don’t know if I can trust this… feeling,’ I confessed. ‘You asked me to have faith in you but it’s hard.’

Jake sighed. ‘I know, I’m sorry. But now you’re getting to know me, do you believe that there is a good reason behind all of this?’ he asked, gesturing into the air.

‘Why you said those things, you mean?’ I checked.

He nodded.

It was hard – I had read his books for years and the way he wrote about love made me think he did believe in it, that he had enjoyed writing love stories, and maybe he might be a true romantic in his heart. But I knew I was led by my heart and sometimes, I should let my head take over. Jake was keeping something from me, something he didn’t want to share with me yet, so letting him in and sharing myself with him made me feel uneasy. But I fancied him a lot. I couldn’t deny that.

‘I want to believe it,’ I said breathily.

‘I want you to. I know there is a list of reasons why we should keep things professional but there is a spark here, though, isn’t there?’ Jake asked me, hope evident in his voice.

‘There does seem to be,’ I said softly back, unable to tear my eyes off him.

‘Hmm,’ he murmured. He reached out and gently touched a strand of my hair. ‘I can’t believe you’d even look twice at me, though.’

My eyebrows shot up. ‘I feel that way about you,’ I admitted before I could stop myself. This seemed so surreal. Jake Richards. Bestselling author. Telling me there was a spark between us and he couldn’t believe I might want him.

‘Are you serious?’ he asked me.

‘Are you?’

His fingertips moved to touch my cheek. I felt my pulse speed up instantly. I was sure he would be able to see my chest starting to rise and fall rapidly. He was so close but was still keeping the space between us. I wondered if he was considering kissing me. Then I realised a man had never considered it before. Never taken the time to do so. I replayed previous kisses in my life. Drunken ones, awkward ones, all hurried and sudden… This was so far removed from any of them.

Jake trailed his fingertips down to my chin then to my neck, cupping me there under my ear. ‘I would love to kiss you,’ he said, his eyes moving from mine to my lips. Then he moved them straight back again. ‘But I want you to know I would understand if you said you didn’t want me to. I’d like you to decide, Freya. Tell me yes… or no. Okay?’

A man had never asked me if I wanted to kiss him before. It shouldn’t have felt like a big decision but somehow, it did. I could look back and wonder ‘what if’ and regret not diving in, or I could dive right in and then regret that. Was it better to regret what you did or didn’t do in life?

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I want to kiss you.’

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