Connection (Temptation Series Standalones Book 2)

by K. M. Golland

  Carly pretends to bang her head against the doorframe, and Sally quickly nudges her when Oliver turns in their direction.

  She smiles, all teeth and sarcasm. “I’ve invited Will and Jeremy too,” she adds.

  I grab my purse. “Greeeat. The more the merrier.”

  Ffffk! This will be interesting.

  We head out of the classroom, the sun high in the sky, breaking through rainclouds and casting a rainbow over the horizon. Warmth and joy fill me as I admire the pretty spectrum. I’ve always loved rainbows. There’s just something magical about them, as if they only belong in fairy tales, and if you do happen to find the bottom of one, it’s not a pot of gold you’ll find but instead a castle in a faraway land.

  “You fantasising about my body on top of yours?” Will asks, snapping me out of my rainbow-daze by nudging my shoulder.

  Sal chokes then coughs, and Jeremy chuckles.

  I sigh, my eyes playful. “The only way your body will be on top of mine is if we both trip and I cushion your fall.”

  Oliver scoffs and shakes his head at Will. “Ouch!”

  Will ignores him, eyes fixed on mine. “Best you watch your step then.”

  “I will.” I look down at his feet. “Best you watch yours.”

  He follows. “I won’t.”

  Oliver scoffs again.

  The footpath we’re walking on is narrow, wide enough for two abreast. So Sal and Jeremy walk ahead, Oliver and I not far behind them, Will mere steps behind us, and Carly at the tail end, her phone pressed to her ear. The café is only a short walk from the school; therefore, it’s pointless to drive.

  “So how are the repairs coming along?” I ask Will, trying to include him in conversation, because my roommate is a rude bitch. “Any closer to fixing the problem?”

  Oliver pipes in before Will can answer. “Yeah, you’ve been at it for a while now.”

  “Everything’s on schedule. Why? You want to get rid of me?”

  I glance over my shoulder and smile at him. “Of course not.”

  Slowing my pace a little, I drop back to walk beside Will. “I’m just curious as to when we’ll have water connected to the building again; that’s all.”

  Will arranged for makeshift portable water tanks with taps and drinking fountains to be installed just outside my classroom, and while they’re a satisfactory replacement, I miss having a functional sink and student toilets.

  “Water should be connected by tomorrow.”

  “Oh! That’s… that’s great!”

  “Does that mean you’ll be finished?” Oliver asks, not masking the hopeful tone of his voice as he too drops back and walks beside me but on the grass, both men flanking my sides.

  I suddenly feel like a piece of meat in an awkward sandwich.

  “Finished? Nah, not even close,” Will says. “There are numerous leaks around the schoolgrounds, which will cause the same problem to other buildings if we don’t fix them.” He slides his hands into his pockets and grins. “It’s gonna take weeks to replace various sections of piping.” Will enunciates the word weeks, and I feel weirdly settled about it.

  “Wow! That much damage, huh?”

  He nods at me. “Yep.”

  We round the corner, and Sal and Jeremy enter the modern chic café. Oliver goes next, and just as I’m about to follow him, Will reaches out and holds the door open.

  I pause then blink. “Thanks!”

  “You say that like no one’s ever held a door open for you.”

  Diverting my gaze from his stormy eyes, I step past him. “That’s because no one has.”

  We all take a seat at a large wooden, rustic, picnic bench style table at the back of the café, and once again, I find myself sandwiched between Oliver and Will, somewhat uncomfortably, given the sheer size of Will.

  “Perhaps we should request a larger table,” I say.

  Carly glances around, waiters and waitresses bustling about. “Doesn’t look like they have one.”

  I sigh. “I think you’re right.”

  “You can sit on my lap if you like,” Will offers.

  I roll my eyes at him. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

  He chuckles, and once again, Oliver scoffs, which I’ve realised isn’t unusual. He scoffs at everything.

  We order drinks and food and soon settle into our own conversations, mostly one, which we all contribute to.

  “So how long have you been working for Will, Jeremy?” I ask, sipping my soda water.

  “I started my apprenticeship with him when I was eighteen. I’m twenty-two now, so four years.”

  Will leans forward. “He sits his final exam next month, then he’ll be fully qualified.”

  Jeremy sprinkles a little salt on the table then fingers it into a pile. “I gotta pass first.”

  “Piece of piss, mate.” Will leans back against the wall behind us. “You got nothin’ to worry about.”

  Oliver swigs his Coke and adds, “It can’t be that hard, right?”

  At least three sets of eyebrows rise, including mine.

  He swallows and quickly continues, “I mean, you’ve been learning it for four years. You already know what you need to know.”

  Will’s brow relaxes, but only slightly, his eyes still locked on Oliver. “He does.”

  “I’m not very good with reading and writing,” Jeremy admits. “I’m not dumb or anythin’. I just get nervous with tests and end up screwin’ ’em up.”

  Sal blows his pile of salt off the table and giggles. “I’m sure you’ll be fine, but if you need any help with the reading and writing, you can give me a call sometime.”

  Jeremy nods, dips his head, and pour himself another pile of salt.

  “And anyway, it’s natural to be nervous,” Sal adds.

  “Yeah,” Carly pipes in. “Just ask Lib. She failed her driving test twice!”

  I kick her under the table. “I did not! It was once, and my testing instructor was a dickhead. He was more interested in my breasts than my three-point turn.”

  “So why’d he fail you?” Will asks.

  “Because my three-point turn was more a six-point turn.” I lay my napkin on my lap. “And I might’ve forgotten to give way once or twice.”

  Carly shakes her head, her eyes wide. “Never get into a car with her. She’s scary as fuck.” She picks up her drink. “I’m serious. She nearly got into a punch-on with a biker once.”

  Will turns to face me. “Even more reason for me to teach you boxing.”

  I laugh. “We’ve been through this already. You’re not giving me boxing lessons.”

  “Oh! Pick me!” Sal raises her hand like a student would. “I’d love to learn boxing.”

  “Hold on just a second.” Oliver raises his finger. “So you’re a plumber, drummer, and boxer?”

  Will crosses his arms over his chest. “I can also knit.”

  I nearly spit my drink. “You knit?”

  “Yes. Blankets and mittens for babies in Africa.”

  I wait for him to laugh or nudge me and say he’s kidding, but he doesn’t. He just sits there, expressionless, as if him knitting for children in need is as natural as breathing.

  Carly narrows her eyes and points her taloned finger at him. “You for real?”

  “I am.”

  “Can you knit me a scarf?”

  “I can.”

  “Hot pink?”

  “Sure.”

  “Awesome!”

  My jaw is like cement, heavy and weighted open, so I close it just as our waitress approaches the table.

  “Two pizzas: one Supreme, one Hawaiian. I also have a burger with the lot, and a roasted lamb sandwich swimming in mint sauce.” She places the pizzas on the table, the waiter behind doing the same with the burger and sandwich.

  “What the hell is that?” Will asks, nodding to Carly’s lamb sandwich.

  She slides it in front of her. “The yummiest thing you’ll ever taste.”

  “I can promise you that is not the yummiest t
hing I’ll ever taste. Not even close.” He lifts the lid of her sandwich with the tip of his fork. “Is all that green shit mint sauce?”

  “She loves the stuff,” I say, leaning forward to help myself to a slice of pizza. “It’s hideous.”

  “It’s not hideous. When I see Derek next, I’m gonna smother it all over him and lick it off.”

  Will lets out a belly laugh. “Now that I’d like to see.”

  “You want to see a woman lick shit off another man?” Oliver asks. He gives me a disgusted look, as if I’d be disgusted too. I’m not, strangely enough.

  “I wanna see my pretty-boy best mate covered in sticky shit and nothing he can do about it.”

  Oliver presses his lips together. “Charming.”

  I’m about to ask him what his problem is, when Will hands him a slice of pizza and says, “Here, eat a piece of pizza, ya cranky fuck.”

  Carly bursts into laughter, a chunk of lamb flying out of her mouth and hitting Oliver in the face.

  It bounces off his chin and lands on my plate.

  I look at it…

  …then look at her…

  …then look at Oliver.

  Everyone else does the same, until we’re all laughing, sans the cranky fuck.

  After eating lunch, Will and Jeremy head back to school to get the excavator ready while the rest of us take care of the bill.

  “I think Will is a bit smitten with you, Lib.” Sal hands her credit card to the woman at the till then pulls out a packet of gum from her handbag.

  I shake my head. “He’s not; he’s just a massive flirt.”

  “He’s wasting his time,” Oliver says as he calculates what he owes for lunch. “Will isn’t her type.”

  I stare at him. “And how would you know what my type is?”

  Digging into his pocket, he pulls out some notes and change. “Lib, I work with you every day. I know your standards, and Mr Steroids doesn’t even come close.”

  “And who does come close?” Carly asks before I do.

  “Someone more refined, more educated. Less… moronic.”

  Carly taps her chin. “Let me guess. Someone like you?”

  He smirks and hands over his money. “Yes, someone like me.”

  She turns her back to him and opens her eyes so wide I’m afraid her eyeballs might pop out and I’ll have to catch them.

  “Thanks for your input, Oliver, but I think I’ll decide for myself who my type is.”

  “Well, we both know it’s not him.”

  Carly doubles back. “It’s not you either.”

  He glares at her.

  I give her a little shove. “Come on, you two, we gotta go.”

  We arrive at school just as the bell rings, kids running in all directions back to their classrooms.

  Will is supervising Jeremy manoeuvre the excavator from the car park into the roped-off area, his arms crossed over his chest, his legs shoulder-width apart.

  I detour over to him on my way to class. “Hey, sorry about Oliver. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. He acted like a complete jerk at lunch.”

  Will doesn’t look at me, instead completely focussed on his apprentice. “It’s not an act, sweetheart. The guy is a jerk.”

  “Yeah.” I bow my head. “I’m just beginning to realise that.”

  “Better late than never, I guess.”

  “True. Anyway, I better get to cla—”

  “Stop!” Will shouts.

  He darts off and dives behind the excavator, his python arms wrapping around one of the kids who somehow snuck into the roped off area. I scream, horrified, as they tumble to the ground, Will bearing the brunt of the fall, his head colliding with the back of the machine.

  “Will! Toby!” I rush to their side and drop to my knees. “Are you okay?”

  “I…” Toby starts crying, his tiny body trembling all over. “I was just getting my b-ball.”

  I quickly scan his face, running my hands from his head to his arms. “Are you hurt? Can you walk?” I glance at Will, who’s not moving. “Will!” I touch his arm, but he’s unresponsive. Oh no! No, no, no. Dread climbs my spine like a flame, my chest seizing.

  Jeremy is by my side in an instant, one hand covering his mouth, the other gripping his hair. “I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t see the kid. I—”

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “My knee hurts,” Toby whines.

  “Jeremy, take Toby to the office and get Carly to call an ambulance. Tell her Will hit his head. He’s… he’s unconscious.” I scoot closer and gently touch the side of his face. “Will! Can you hear me?”

  He doesn’t answer. God! Please be okay.

  Jeremy carefully scoops Toby into his arms and dashes off.

  “What happened?” Sal questions as she kneels on the other side of Will, her eyes wide, her hands tentative as they hover over his still body.

  I slip my hand under his head, cushioning it from the concrete. A sticky warmth coats my fingers, and I know beyond a shadow of a doubt they’re covered in blood.

  “Toby snuck in here to get his ball and nearly got hit by the excavator. Will jumped in the way and hit his head.” I cup his face with my other hand. “He’s bleeding, Sal. I can feel it.”

  “Shit! What do we do?”

  “We—”

  A groan leaves Will’s mouth, and his eyelids flutter open. “W-What happened?”

  “Oh thank God!” I mutter, finally able to breathe again.

  He shoots upright and nearly knocks me out too. “The kid? Where’s the kid? Is he okay?”

  “Yes! Yes, he’s fine.” I scoot closer again, this time guiding his head back down to rest on my lap, crimson staining the side of his face. “Just stay still.”

  He exhales and relaxes into my embrace. “He’s okay?”

  “Yes, he’s okay. You, on the other hand, aren’t.”

  His eyelids grow heavy. “I’m good.”

  “No, you’re not. Just… just take it easy. The ambulance is on the way.”

  “Don’t need an ambulance.”

  “Yes, you do.”

  “Don’t.”

  “Damn it, Will, stop being stubborn for once.”

  He reaches up, touches my cheek, and slurs, “You’re an angel.”

  “What?”

  “Beeauutiful.”

  “Shut up, you goose. You don’t know what you’re saying. You’ve hit your head.”

  “Go out with me, Elizabeth.”

  Staring into his glassy eyes, my heart practically in my throat, I shake my head as I smooth his hair away from his face. “No.”

  “I might die.”

  I chuckle. “No, you won’t.”

  “You’ll regret it.”

  Drawing in a deep breath, I let it out slowly. “Fine, I’ll go out with you.”

  He smiles, and his eyes fall shut.

  Chapter Ten

  I rode in the ambulance with Will to the hospital, and after numerous tests and scans, he was released, suffering a mild laceration and concussion. Toby sustained a graze to the knee and was understandably shaken, but it was Jeremy who I think suffered the most. The poor guy was ashen and intermittently slapping his head in frustration as we drove away.

  “I nearly died,” Will says as the glass doors part and we step outside of the Emergency Department.

  I roll my eyes and smile then reach up and touch the bandage covering three stitches on his scalp. “You did not.”

  “I did. For you.”

  “For me? What do you mean for me?”

  “I nearly died so you’d agree to go out with me.”

  Halting my steps, eyes narrowing, my finger pointing, I laugh. “You. Did. Not. You can’t pin this on me.”

  “Yeah, I can.”

  “Well, I can take back my agreement to go out with you.”

  He pouts.

  “Ugh! Fine, I won’t take it back. I said I’d go out with you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

  His pout magically v
anishes, a smug grin in its place.

  “But only once,” I reaffirm, my finger pointing again.

  Will slides his hands into his trouser pockets and rocks back on his heels. I shriek and reach out, ready to catch him should he fall—not that I’d be able to catch him, even if I tried.

  “Whoa!” I say, scanning his eyes. “Steady there.”

  He dips his head and lowers his voice. “Afraid I’m gonna fall on you, your body under mine?”

  “Yes, are you diz—?” I pause, remembering his smartarse remark at lunch about being on top of me. “Hey! Don’t even think about it.”

  “I’m tempted, trust me.” He rocks back again, this time teasing me, then chuckles and pulls out his phone. “Want to share an Uber?”

  “Don’t be silly. Put your phone away. I called Carly. She’ll be here any min—”

  Just as I mention her name, a car horn blasts through the car park to the tune of “We Will Rock You”.

  I facepalm and mumble, “Right on cue.”

  Will chuckles and taps his foot. “She’s actually got good rhythm.”

  “She’s got problems; that’s what she’s got.”

  Carly’s red Suzuki Swift pulls to a stop right in front of us. I take hold of the door handle and pull it, but it’s locked. What the?

  Bowing my head, I knock on the window, and it slowly winds down. “What are you—”

  “Hey, sugar,” she interrupts with an awful American accent, “you lookin’ for a date?”

  Recognising the line from Pretty Woman, I raise an eyebrow at her. “Carly, open the door.”

  “I want head and a threesome. How much?”

  Heat burns my cheeks, and I tug at the handle. “Oh for God’s sake,” I say, laughing. “Open the damn door.”

  “Okay, okay.” She giggles. “Spoil sport.”

  Imbecile Barbie finally unlocks the door.

  Will goes to climb into the back but stops. “Jesus! Is this a Matchbox car? It’s not even big enough for my balls.”

  I glance at the backseat; he’s right. “Wait! You sit in the front; I’ll sit in the back.”

  He peers over the headrest. “Not sure that’s gonna be any better.”

  “Stop dissing my Suzi and decide where you’re gonna sit,” Carly says.

  We swap positions.

  “Watch your head,” I blurt out, worried as he squeezes into the front seat, me sliding into the back behind him.