Page 75 of Worth Every Moment
“No.”
“Eat it, then.” I roll it between my fingers, and she follows the movement. “It’s just a tomato.”
She leans even closer. “Is it?”
Her voice wavers, and there’s a desperation in her eyes, as though she doesn’t know what I want, what I mean, or what she’s supposed to do.
It hits me like a ton of bricks. I’m being an arsehole, taunting her this way. Maybe eating one last tomato is going to send her toppling over the edge, tumbling into the abyss of the unknown. Maybe she reallycan’teat it. Maybe her mother fucked her upthatmuch. I snatch it in a full fist and shove it in my own mouth, crunching down on it, letting it pop against my teeth. I chew and swallow. “Yeah,” I say, so casual that the tension recedes to the shadows. “It’s just a tomato.”
Her body slumps against the island and I feel like the biggest wanker on the planet. I need to get away from her, clear my head before I make even more of a prick of myself. I push off the counter and head towards my room.
“I’m going to have a shower,” I call over my shoulder.
I’m about to turn into the hallway when she calls my name, and I spin to find her pointing the knife at me. “I’ll eat it because Iwantto eat it,” she says. “WhenI want to eat it. Not becauseyou want to shove it down my throat.” She lowers the knife and picks a tomato quite deliberately from the paper bag and sucks it into her mouth, chewing it slowly. Her eyes glimmer with the taunt, the double entendre, acknowledging that we’re playing a game, but still skirting the edge of the board. She swallows, then flashes me a smile so beautiful that it sets my own free. I rub a hand over my jaw to conceal it, shaking my head at her.
“Fuck. I’m an arse,” I say, my hand sliding round to rub the back of my neck. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You’re not the first guy who’s asked me to suck his dick.”
I nearly choke on my next breath. “What?”
“You are the first to try it with a tomato metaphor though. A plus for effort. Gold star.” She bites her lip to hold back her grin. “The celibacy getting to you that bad, huh? It’s been a few weeks of fake dating and you’re ready to crack.”
I splutter a laugh. “I’m not—”
“You are.” She rests a hand on her hip. “I know you.” The intimacy of the phrase and the softness of her tone, utterly devoid of judgment, snakes its way around my heart and squeezes.I’m a total prick. “Go wash that one-track mind down the drain. Dinner in fifteen minutes. I’m expecting my friend to join me, not the guy who wants me to suck his dick under the table.”
I roll my eyes, pretending to dismiss her as though she’s talking shit, although she’s absolutely bang on. I want her mouth on me. I’d love her lips around my dick, but to be honest, I’d take them anywhere she wanted to put them. And it’s not the celibacy.It’s her. Seven years ofher. Seven years of wanting and pretending I don’t. Pretending every woman I’ve ever fucked is her.
No wonder I don’t remember their names, because there’s only one name that’s ever fucking mattered to me.
Erica Lefroy.
Christ. I’m sick in the head. I must be.
I blow out a breath as I turn away from her, determined to be a better friend. To cool the fuck down, thankful she’s got so low an opinion of me, that she’s chalking this episode up to nothing more than me beingme.
But even as I walk away, her words replay in my mind.Under the table.
What a fucking dream that would be.
27
ERICA
Iwanted to suck that tomato from between his fingers. Wanted to press my lips to it, dig my teeth into it, and suck it inside my mouth, holding it there while I kissed him so I could pass it back to him with my tongue.I wanted, I wanted, I wanted.Internally, I was hemorrhaging with want.
When he returned from his shower, hair wet and scraped back, he was a total gentleman. It was as though the tomato episode never happened, and when it was happening, I was so blown away by the whole thing that it’s hazy in my memory.Did he really ask me to swallow it? Or did I make that bit up?
Since that night, time has flown. We’ve had a series of public dates. Restaurants and bars mostly, but a couple of walks along the river too. Anywhere we can be seen publicly. He hasn’t kissed me again, but he’s held my hand over the table, pulled me into him as we’ve walked. Outside of the apartment, we’ve performed. But inside, there’s an immovable awkwardness that’s taken up residence like another flatmate. A great big burly presence that we have to tiptoe around, not daring to look at it in case it does…something. We’re both ignoring it, hardlycommunicating, him working long hours and me the same, just so we don’t have to be here together, enduring whatever the fuck this has turned into. It sucks the joy out of living together, that’s for sure, and yet there’s still that buzz of temptation, like the roar of a river beneath its frozen surface.
I don’t know how much longer I can go on like this. Luckily, the audition forTaming the Beasthas come and gone, and I’m pretty sure I nailed it. Even the press is backing me, and I checked with the bookies online, and I’m odds on to get the role, and if it were up to the fans on social media, I’d already have it.
I don’t want to get excited too soon, and I haven’t mentioned it to Seb because I know he’d be as excited as me, and if two of us get excited together… it’s not worth the risk. I can’t let that energy explode in these four walls. He’d smile, his dimple would pop, he’d throw his arms around me, and then…
I shake the thought away. Then…nothing. Whatever I feel for Seb has to be a secret. Locked down. Our arrangement is so close to over. We’re leaving for Kate and Nico’s weddingtomorrow.
And then we’ll have to break up.
