Connection (Temptation Series Standalones Book 2)

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Connection (Temptation Series Standalones Book 2) Page 10

by K. M. Golland


  The car grows silent until both Carly and I crack up laughing.

  “Yeah, yeah, go ahead.” Will shuffles. “Laugh at the big guy all curled up like a turd.”

  “You’re not having a good day, are you?” Carly asks him.

  “Besides the fact that my balls are lodged somewhere in my gut and my head’s about to explode, the day’s been pretty fuckin’ good actually.”

  I can’t help but smirk at his response.

  “Good? Why’s that?” Carly gently accelerates then glances over at me, her brow crumpled. “He hit his head, right?”

  “He did.”

  “How’s that a good day?”

  “Because your roommate finally agreed to go out with me.”

  “What?” Drama-llama Barbie slams her foot on the brake, stopping before exiting the car park.

  “Jesus, Carly! Be careful. He has a head injury.”

  “Sorry.” She pulls an oopsies face then glances back at me. “You’re going on a date with Will?” A huge smile spreads across her face. “Like a real date, one that might end in sweaty hot sex?”

  Will opens his mouth first. “Yes—”

  “There’ll be no sweaty hot sex,” I say, setting him straight.

  “Yes, there will.”

  I hold up my hand. “I’m not even going to argue with you about this.”

  “Good,” both he and Carly say simultaneously.

  Groaning, I deliberately headbutt the window. What have I gotten myself into?

  We drop Will off at a cosy mud brick home in Diamond Creek, which is only twenty minutes from our place. He invites us in, but I decline, suggesting he get as much rest as possible and to ring—no matter what time—if he feels unwell. As intriguing as his home appears—because it reminds me of a Disney cottage, nestled at the base of several gigantic gum trees—all I want to do is get home, throw on my PJs, and snuggle with Sasha. So much happened today, and even though I never hit my head, it feels ready to explode too.

  “So how’d that come about?” Carly asks as she pushes our front door open after unlocking it.

  I squat, ready to catch Sasha should she miss. “How’d what come about?”

  “You agreeing to go out with Will.”

  I laugh. “Ha! I can’t believe you lasted the entire car ride home before asking me this.”

  “I was hoping you’d just tell me.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.”

  The skittering rumble of Sasha’s paws on the wood flooring as she rounds the corner into the entry hallway prepares us for her imminent presence. I’m confident Carly will catch her, when instead, she steps aside at the last second and allows Sasha to nearly barrel me over.

  “Don’t give me that bullshit. There’s always something to tell.”

  “Fine. He’s asked me a couple of times.”

  “And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “It is so my business.” She steps into our house and pats her knees. “Come on, Sashy. Who wants a treat?”

  Sasha follows Carly, jumping up every other step. I get to my feet, close the door behind me, and follow them into the kitchen.

  “What is that?” Carly screeches and points to a part of the room I can’t yet see.

  I almost afraid to completely step into the room.

  “Nooo!” Carly plunges her face into her hands then covers her nose with the sleeve of her top. “You shit outside, Sasha. That’s why I got you a damn doggy door.”

  “Did you unlock said doggy door?”

  “Of course I di— Wait.” She pushes on the door flap, and it doesn’t swing. “Shit! I didn’t. Damn it!”

  Walking into the room, the unmistakeable waft of dog poo assaults my nostrils. “Jesus! It’s fresh.”

  Carly dry retches. “It’s foul.”

  “It’s… on my flip-flops!”

  “Yeeeah.” She shrugs. “Sorry. Forgot to mention that part.”

  “Carly! Why are my flip-flops even in this room?”

  “I borrowed them.”

  “Did you not think to put them back?”

  “I was going to, but then… but then you rang and asked me to pick you and Will up from the hospital. And being the kick-arse friend that I am, I dropped everything and came to your aid, so you can’t be mad at me.”

  “I sure as fuck can be mad at you.” I point to the shit-piled flip-flop stack. “Look at them! They’re covered.”

  “It’ll wash off.”

  “Wash off?”

  “Yeah.” She grabs my cardigan, which is lying on the dining table and not in my wardrobe where I left it.

  I step toward her. “Why is that in here too? And… and what are you going to do with it?”

  She ties it around her head. “I’m using it for protection.”

  I could kill her, outright murder her arse.

  Carly bends down and tentatively reaches for my flip-flops, gagging as she lifts them and balances the shit on top like you would jelly on a plate.

  “Don’t you dare spew on my cardigan,” I warn.

  “Shut up! I’ll drop it. You’re making me nervous.”

  “I’m making you nervous?”

  She ignores me, slowly pivoting toward the back door. “Open it. Quick! The stench is burning my eyeballs.”

  I lunge for the sliding glass door and wrench it open, expecting her to walk through it and outside, when she stops and tosses the dog shit and my flip-flops onto the back lawn.

  “Carly!” I stare at them.

  “Phew.” She wipes her brow with the back of her hand and smiles with relief. “That was close.”

  “But… my flip-flops!”

  Inconsiderate Psycho Barbie swishes her hand. “I’ll buy you a new pair. Those were hideous anyway.”

  “They were not.”

  “They were.”

  “Argh!”

  “So back to Will asking you out….” Carly shuts the back door and casually takes a seat at the dining table, one foot propped on the chair, her knee pressed to her chest as if she didn’t just destroy my property.

  Sasha lays at her foot, so Carly drops her hand to pat Sashy’s head.

  “What about it?” I snap, turning my back on her to switch on the kettle. I need a tea, preferably one with chamomile to ease my elevated stress levels.

  “What made you say yes to Will this time?”

  I shrug. “He nearly died.”

  She laughs. “So it’s a pity date?”

  I consider that for a second and decide it’s not, or maybe it is. “I… I don’t know.”

  “Well, do you like him or not?”

  “I don’t not like him. I just….” Realisation that I now have to go out with Will hits me, and I rest both hands on the edge of the benchtop and hang my head. “What have I done? And why on earth did I say yes? I’m such a sucker. Sure, he was a hero today; he risked his safety to ensure Toby’s, but … but is that reason enough to let him take me out?”

  “Yes.”

  I turn to face her. “Of course you’d say that. Just waking up in the morning would be reason enough for you.”

  “Hey!” She gives me a look that says “be nice,” so I adhere—sometimes, I step over the line.

  Shoulders slumping, I pick at my nails. “We have nothing in common, and I mean nothing.”

  “How do you know that if you’ve never been out with the guy?”

  “I can just tell.”

  “Oh, that’s right, you’re”—she taps her head with her pointer finger—“psychic.”

  “You just have to look at us to see we’re not going to mesh.”

  “You shallow, narrow-minded, princess wannabe.”

  I flinch at her words. “I beg your par—”

  “You of all people shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

  “Me? Of all people? Why?”

  “Because you have red hair.”

  Oh my fucking God! “So?”

  “
So… redheads are mutants!”

  I deadpan. Dead. Pan.

  She points at me. “You know it’s true. We saw it on that—” She clicks her fingers. “—that Human Bodies show you’re always making me watch, remember? You have a fucked-up gene or something. You could be in the X-Men.”

  I laugh; she’s actually right for once.

  “I also produce more Vitamin D and am more likely to be stung by a bee, but that doesn’t make me shallow or narrow-minded.”

  “But judging Will before giving him a chance does.”

  “I’m not judging him,” I say, offended.

  “Yeah, you are. Just because he doesn’t fit your perfect, prissy, Prince Charming expectations, doesn’t mean he’s unworthy.”

  “I never said he’s unworthy.”

  “Yeah, you did, without actually saying it.” She stands up and calls Sasha. “Come on, baby.”

  Strangely enough, I don’t want her to leave. When she’s a bitch like this, she often helps me find clarity.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to have phone sex with Derek.”

  “Oh.” I pout. “Really? You guys do that?”

  Carly pulls a face that nearly has her going cross-eyed. “Yes, really. It’s what us non-royal types do.”

  I cross my arms over my chest, feeling a little remorseful. “I’m not a royal type, and I never meant to judge Will. I’m not like that. You know I’m not like that. Hell, I live with and love you, don’t I?”

  She steps up to me and cradles my face in her hands, and I can’t help but admire the perfect smoky eyeshadow framing her eyes. “You’re just scared of the unknown.”

  I nod, tears pooling.

  “You’ve placed yourself in a make-believe fairy tale with make-believe heroes.” She wipes a stray tear from my cheek. “They don’t exist, Lib. But men like Will do. They may not have a castle on a hill, horses, and a crown, but they do have other things to offer.”

  “Like what?”

  “A huge cock.” She double-slaps my cheeks. “Wake up. You’ve got to give someone a chance to know whether they deserve it or not.”

  “Ow!” I rub my face.

  “Now, goodnight. If you hear noises coming from my room… enjoy them.”

  I turn back to the kettle as Carly skips out of the room, and I’m not entirely sure what just happened. All I know is I’m willing to give Will a chance. But a chance at what, I’m not too sure.

  The next morning, as I’m pegging my hosed-down, freshly cleaned flip-flops to dry on the clothesline, my phone buzzes in my pocket.

  I reach in and pull it out to see a text from an unknown number.

  Unknown: Tonight’s the night

  Weird! I ignore it.

  Unknown: Don’t ignore me

  How rude!

  Me: Who is this?

  Unknown: The man you’re going to have hot, sweaty sex with tonight

  Will? How’d he get my numb— Damn it, Carly!

  The blinds at the window to our kitchen move, and she waves her fingers at me, her phone pressed to her ear.

  I type a response.

  Me: You’ve got the wrong number. Sorry, I’m celibate

  Will: Are you really?

  I’m tempted to say yes.

  Me: NO!

  Will: Wouldn’t matter if you were

  I laugh. Yeah right! But then I remember what Carly said last night and decide not to assume or judge.

  Me: Really?

  Will: Yes, because once you see my cock, you’ll change your mind

  And there you have it. I place my hand on my hip and glare at my phone.

  Will: Take your hand off your hip. I’m kidding

  I do as he says then freeze, dread, or perhaps excitement, waving over me. Spinning to look around the yard, I stop when I see Carly laughing.

  My eyes narrow.

  Me: Are you on the phone with Carly?

  Will: I am

  I slide my finger over my throat in a slicing motion then point at her. I know it’s melodramatic, but so is she, so she’ll get my drift.

  Will: Back to tonight. I’ll pick you up at six.

  Will: Wear something warm

  Me: Sorry. No can do. I’m busy

  Will: No, you’re not

  Me: How would you know?

  Will: Carly

  Me: How would she know?

  Will: She said you were just gonna watch Bridget Jones’s Diary with her

  I flip Carly the bird.

  Will: Six o’clock. Be ready. Dress warm

  I don’t want to answer, but I do, because I’m not an adolescent. Plus, he said he’s gonna pick me up.

  Oliver didn’t.

  Me: Fine

  At six o’clock on the dot, there’s a knock at the door. Quickly trying to secure the back of my earring, I fumble when Will strolls into my room, Sasha—once again—in his arms.

  I can’t help but smile.

  Will smiles too, his eyes slowly raking me from head to toe. I feel violated but in a good way until he shakes his head, places Sasha on the ground, and enters my wardrobe.

  I’m about to object when he comes out with my grey duffel coat.

  “You’re gonna need this.” He hands it to me.

  I try not to frown when I take it from him, and say, “Thaaanks.”

  “What’s that look for?”

  “I’m just confused. You’re trying to cover me up. Don’t guys like you try to undress girls like me?”

  His eyebrow hitches. “Guys like me?”

  I regret the words and how I said them almost instantly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. What I meant was don’t men in general want women to wear less, not more?”

  Will steps closer and helps drape my coat over my bare shoulders. “You’ll wear much less when the time is right, sweetheart. For now, I don’t want you to get hypothermia.”

  I shiver. “Hypothermia? Where are you taking me? Antarctica?”

  “All you need to know is we’re gonna get high.”

  “What?”

  Turns out, by high, he didn’t mean weed, which I’m very grateful for.

  “Sky High, Mt Dandenong?” I read the sign as we turn off the main road. “I’ve never been here before.” I sit straighter. “I’ve always wanted to though.”

  “We’ve made good time, so you’ll get to see the sunset.”

  “How lovely.” I cock my head a little, surprised by this thoughtful, sweet side of him.

  “It’s even better after dark.” The skin at the edge of his eyes crinkles as he smiles, and he quickly glances my way before focussing on the road again.

  Will’s profile is rather handsome, but it’s his full lips and mischievous eyes that I find most alluring. I can’t help staring at them, which I realise I’m doing when an amber glow swims across his face as we drive through a break in the trees, hues of orange, pink, and purple painting the sky as far as the eye can see.

  I gasp. “Oh wow! You can see the city from here. And is that Port Phillip Bay?” I lean forward and exhale. “That’s… that’s beautiful.”

  Swinging the truck into a parking spot, he kills the ignition and turns to face me. “Not as beautiful as you.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I’m not sleeping with you, Will.”

  He laughs and props his head on his hand, his elbow resting on the door trim. “You think I said that so you’ll sleep with me?”

  I press my lips together and nod, my smile deliberately sarcastic.

  “Then you’re wrong. Again.” Will unbuckles his seatbelt. “You’re beautiful, Elizabeth. And I am allowed to tell you that with or without your permission.”

  Swallowing hard, I blink all the blinks, my mouth all of a sudden dry when he pushes off from the steering wheel, opens his door, climbs out, and walks a couple of metres in front of the truck to the safety barrier, his arms stretching toward the sky before resting atop his head.

  I don’t know what to say so don’t
say a thing, instead choosing to take the moment alone to scale his body with my eyes, happily settling on his arse, which is nicely accentuated in denim. My teeth clamp my lip, and I squeeze my thighs together. He has a football-player’s arse—firm, round, high.

  Will doesn’t look back nor call out to see if I’m coming to join him. He just basks in the magical sight before us, looking the perfect picture of serenity.

  It’s very inviting.

  Wanting nothing more than to stand out there with him and breathe it all in, I unbuckle my seatbelt, climb out of the truck, and make my way to stand by his side, the silence beautiful but deafening.

  “Thank you,” I finally bring myself to say after swallowing my often stupid pride. “No one’s ever said that to me.”

  Will throws his arm around my shoulders and hugs me to his side, his body warm and… comforting. “Just because no one’s said it until now, doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

  I nod but leave it at that. I don’t know what else to say, especially because I’m pressed to the side of a man who I think I like but also like to despise.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I hold it for a few seconds then exhale, mesmerised as the sun melts into the sky, oranges and pinks soon turning grey, a cooler breeze now chilling the air.

  “You warm enough?” he asks, his grip firmer.

  The muscles in my neck relax, and I rest my head against his shoulder and sigh. “Yes. Thank you.” Realising what I’m doing, I immediately sit straight again. Damn it, restful head. “I… I’m so glad you made me bring my coat,” I say, trying to direct all focus on that and not me cuddling up to him. “I would’ve frozen without it.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Will slips into quiet territory again, and at first, I’m grateful but then realise I need him to speak more, to clarify and follow through. I mean, he can’t just say what he said in the car and act like it didn’t make my heart flutter and my head spin.

  “So—” I pick at my nails then stop and fold them into my hands. “—do you come here often?”

  He chuckles. “Is that supposed to be a pick-up line?”

  “No.” I giggle and give him a gentle nudge. “I’m genuinely curious.”

 

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