Page 21 of The Great British Bachelor Chase

“Like you used to!” I yell. “Like you care! Like any of it meant anything to you! Because we both know, that’s a lie. You made it perfectly clear when you went and ghosted me—before it was even a thing,” I add bitterly. “Congrats on that, way to be a trendsetter, ahead of the curve.”

Fraser stares at me, his jaw tight with tension. “I never didn’t care.”

What?

I’m about to demand he explain that cryptic double-negative, but before I can say a word, Fraser shakes his head.

“Fuck it,” he murmurs under his breath, and reaches for me, cupping my face in his hands and claiming my mouth in a hot, fevered kiss.

Oh.

I swear, time stops. Memory and sensation mingle in one glorious moment, and it’s game over, as far as my treacherous hormones are concerned.

Heat crashes through me. Heat, and wanting, and a desperate, clawing desire.

I missed you.

I throw my arms up around his neck as his hands grip my waist tightly, the both of us stumbling until my back hits the wall, and Fraser’s body covers me. I arch up, already drunk on the taste of him, the faint tang of beer and salt andhim, desire crashing over me like a damn tidal wave as our tongues slide together, and I feel the full weight of him, his broad frame pressing closer, proving that those suits haven’t changed a damn thing about the body underneath. If anything, he’s sturdier, more muscular.

Harder.

I moan against his mouth, already weak-kneed and breathless at the kiss. How can this bebetterthan I remember? Deeper, hotter, more out-of-control. My hands move to roam hungrily over his shoulders and chest, our mouths still fused together and—

Fraser tears himself away.

“Fuck,” he curses, staring at me with dark, wild eyes.

… Me now, I silently finish, but he’s already raking a hand through his hair again, putting an extra few feet between us.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says, his voice coming out hoarse and ragged. And then he turns and strides away, leaving me sagging against the wall in a melted puddle of pure desire.

What thefuck?

7

JJ

I stand there,stunned, reeling from the intensity of the kiss—and Fraser’s disappearing act. Call me old-fashioned, but someone who kisses me like it’s our last night on earth should have the decency to stick around for more than five seconds.

Or, you know, finish the job.

But, no. It’s just me and my bewilderment left here under the flickering bulb light. I have no idea how long I sag here, my heart pounding wildly in my chest, but eventually, I regain enough of my senses to wander back inside.

Fraser is nowhere to be seen. Another disappearing act, I shouldn’t be surprised by now.

I head to the bar instead, and find an empty stool, right next to Hugo Chambers. He's in 'incognito movie star' mode tonight, dressed down in jeans and a long-sleeved polo shirt that hugs the body I know he’s been toiling in the gym to keep. “Hi there,” he smiles, greeting me.

“Men,” I sigh. “Are ridiculous.”

He laughs, and gestures to the bartender. “Is that right?”

“And inscrutable,” I add. “And impossible. What is it with you people and the mixed messages? It’s not fair.”

Hugo holds up his hands. “I can’t argue with you there. And I’m guessing it’s safer for me not to.”

“Smart man.” The bartender produces two shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. “OK, maybeyou’renot so bad,” I tell Hugo, as he slides a shot over to me.

“To men,” he says, lifting his own. “The whole monstrous lot of us.”

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