by Lisa Swallow
“Shush. Make me a coffee.” He gestures with his hand to the kitchen.
Will doesn’t join me, and when I return with two steaming mugs, he’s lounging on the sofa with his boots on the low table. I shove his legs out of the way. “Make yourself at home, why don’t you?”
He ignores my sarcasm. “If I was making myself at home, I’d be in your bed.” He takes the mug and sips, but his face doesn’t betray whether he wants to do what he says, or not.
I sit next to him and together we drink. Will takes my hand and rubs the back with his thumb and I stare at the action. Drinking coffee and holding hands isn’t the action I had in mind. Is the girl who threw herself at Will still in me? Maybe she could take charge. Something inside had me unbuckling his belt earlier. I swallow at the memory and side-glance him. The expression on his face matches my thoughts and I giggle.
“This is very civilised,” I say.
“Yep.” Will gulps back his coffee. “Now I know you’re home okay, I should go.” He sets the empty cup on the table.
Really?
What the hell?
“Oh. Right.”
“Unless there’s anything else you want to do?” Poker faced, Will regards me.
“Do you?”
He slides closer and tips my chin up, eyes glittering as he looks back at me. “I want to do a lot, but I won’t. You’ve had a shit time with men recently, and I’m going away tomorrow. I don’t want you to feel used if I stay.”
“Now you’re being presumptuous! When did I ask you to stay?”
“Ah. Yeah. Well.” He wrinkles his nose. “I don’t want to be a douche who has his hands all over you the moment we’re alone.”
“Too late for that, isn’t it?”
“That’s true, but –”
Seriously? I have to throw myself at him again? Is this what he’s into? Girls making the first move?
I wind my arms around his neck and brush my mouth against his. “Will, you have permission to put your hands on me.”
“You might regret that statement.” His hands slide around my waist.
“Somehow, I don’t think so,” I murmur and stroke the hair at the nape of his neck.
“Are you sure?”
“Jesus, Nate, just kiss me.”
As soon as the words are out, I slap my hand over my mouth. Will’s eyes widen and he pulls away. “Will. I mean, Will. Crap.”
Will sits forward and stares at his boots.
“I’m sorry.” I touch his arm. “I know you’re Will, it’s just –”
“I lied about who I was, didn’t I? So now I’m Nate to you.”
“No. You’re not.” I move closer. “You’re not like your brother.”
“Aren’t I?” Will cups my cheek in one hand and holds a thumb on my lips. “I’m exactly like him in a lot of ways.”
“Not to me. You said yourself, at the party, you’re the same guy but with a different name.”
The silence between us replaces the joking and innuendo and I kick myself that I’m the one who screwed up. What do I say? I don’t think he’s Nate, but I was used to calling him that for weeks.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Even though I lied?”
“You were stupid, not malicious.”
The silence returns as Will rubs his head. “I’m like them, Fleur.”
“Who?”
“Ethan. Shaun.”
“You’re not!”
“Do you know how many girls I’ve screwed in the last year?” He meets my eyes, and the shining happiness has gone.
I wince at the word but refuse to break eye contact. “No.”
“Neither do I. So I’m worse than the guys who hurt you. I bet they can remember every girl. I can’t.”
I don’t want this conversation, can’t think of Will in this way. “Only if you intend to do it again,” I say. “Only if you intend to have sex with me and move onto the next girl.”
As Will shifts his gaze to the opposite side of the room, my stomach sinks. He can’t give me the answer I’d like. Is he unsure? Or is Will coming clean and this is all about sex. “Can I ask you a personal question?” he asks.
“Okay.”
“Are you a virgin?”
Stunned, I stare at the side of his head as he refuses to meet my eyes. “You need to ask me that question? Are you worried I won’t know what I’m doing?”
“No, but –”
“Because I’m nerdy history girl? I don’t buy into your cliché, don’t you buy into the one around me.”
“Right. But you only have sex with guys who love you, right? I remember you said that.”
“Will, look at me.”
The heavy atmosphere creates a barrier between us. How has this shifted?
“I’ll wait.” He sits back against the sofa. “I need to wait.”
“You don’t.”
Where has the suggestive guy with his banter gone? He’s the man I want. His scent is on my clothes, lips imprinted on my skin from earlier. Will wasn’t the only one fantasising at the movies.
“Right. Are you telling me you wouldn’t regret having sex with me? Dropping your morals for a guy who screws girls and pushes them to one side? I’ll walk away, leave tomorrow, and you’ll be left wondering. Stressed.” He pauses. “Unhappy.”
“No. I trust you.”
“Fuck, I’m confused.” Will runs his palms down his face. “I can’t stop thinking about earlier; and normally, I’d just do this. But –”
“But you need to stop thinking and kiss me.”
I reach out to him, touching his day’s scruff, my face smarting from his rough cheek earlier. I edge in for a kiss and place my lips on his for a second before pulling away to look at him. “I trust you and I know what I’m doing.”
Will mutters something under his breath then crashes his mouth on mine. This is all it takes to reignite the burn from before. A shiver trips along my spine as Will’s hands delve beneath my shirt, holding my waist as his tongue pushes into my mouth. I climb onto his lap and hold his face; he’s not allowed to change his mind and walk away.
I push my hands beneath his clothes too and scrape my nails along his hard abs. The heat sparks into flame, my nipples hardening as I press myself closer. Will’s desire matches mine; he wraps my hair around his hand and grips my face to him.
I don’t know how, but earlier tonight, Will triggered a lust I won’t shake until he satisfies it. The physicality of the guy struck me from the first time he stood close to me in the study room. How is that possible? How can somebody affect another person with such intensity, without touching?
Will manages to do this, and now he has touched me I can go only one direction. The morals he’s talking about aren’t holding me back from letting Will know what I want. Is it so wrong that I do?
Will breaks the kiss and rests his head on the back of the sofa, chest rising and falling rapidly, lips parted. “I thought I told you. No seducing me.”
I laugh and kiss him softly again, running my tongue along his bottom lip. He sighs and grips my face to his again. Our barely restrained lust grips us in this moment and I don’t want to stop. I’m pretty damn sure Will doesn’t either.
“Jesus, Fleur.” Will shifts beneath me, his hard arousal pushing against where I straddle him, and I don’t want clothes in the way. “You need to climb off me or I’m going to push this as far as I can.”
“Stay,” I say, and kiss him again.
Will groans into my mouth and grips my waist. “I know I’m irresistible, but no.”
I sit back and push my hands into his hair to hold his head. “Is it me? Is there something wrong with me?”
“No!” I shiver as his fingers trail softly along my belly, the heat between my legs intensifying. “Every time I close my eyes, you’re there; I can’t shake you.”
“Then stay.”
Will slides his hands up my side and I wriggle against the ticklishness. “You told me that
sex isn’t something you do with just anybody. If I wanted, I could tell you I loved you, but you wouldn’t believe me. You’d think I was saying it to get what I wanted.”
“I wish I’d never told you that!” I say and drop my hands.
“Well, you did.” He lifts me from his lap and I frown at him. “I have to go before my dick takes over control of the situation.”
I’d laugh but I’m pissed off, a mess of arousal fighting to control my breathing.
“Will…” I stand and wrap my arms around him, pull him in for a kiss. “Stay. We don’t have to do everything.”
Just touch me.
His breath speeds against my mouth. “I’m trying to push away those images, Fleur. Don’t put them back.”
The front door clicks and Anne heads in, alone. She halts in the open doorway and blinks at us. Well, gawks at Will for a few moments before turning a confused look in my direction.
“Hey,” says Will with a smile.
“Hey… Will?” replies Anne.
“Yep. Great party the other day.”
“Right.” Anne nods at me. “You might want to fasten your shirt.”
I put my hand to the top of my chest. Bare skin. The buttons are unfastened as far as my bra. Which is also unfastened. “Oh!”
Anne’s eyes shine in amusement. “Anybody want a drink?” she calls as she heads into the kitchen.
“All good. I was leaving.” Will smooths my hair and pulls my head closer. “I’ll call tomorrow, once I get to Liverpool.”
“Right.”
He kisses my nose. “Thanks for tonight.”
“Right.”
I mentally kick myself. Surprised by Anne’s arrival, mortified by flashing my underwear at her and disappointed Will is walking away; my brain has decided one word sentences are the way I go.
“You’re funny,” says Will and grabs my ass. “Sexy as hell.”
Then do something about it.
“Thanks.”
As if he couldn’t make things worse, Will leaves me with another toe-curling kiss and walks away.
The moment the door slams closed, Anne reappears. “Explain.”
I have no idea where to start.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
FLEUR
Will’s away for a week, in which time I attempt to suppress how I feel, but the distance only intensifies everything. I lie in bed picturing us in the study room and on the sofa, arousal building as I skip forward in my imagination.
Will is not the man I expected.
What do I think of him now? He’s a sweet guy underneath his image, and at odds with the one I’ve read about. My initial view he’s using me is eroded. Will pursued a girl who repeatedly told him to leave her alone, and drew me to him until he became the person who drifted into my mind as I lay in bed at night. When I discovered the lie over who he was I was prepared to never speak to him again. Will refused to let me go.
Then there’s the way he’s always looked at me, not predatory like the other guys recently, which backs up his words that he cares. Will calls every day and brushes away any doubt with his crazy sense of humour, interspersed with out of the blue complaints that he misses me.
I miss him too, an irrational amount.
In an attempt to switch off and deal with the ache for Will, I throw myself into my dissertation, doubly determined to do well after Shaun’s veiled threats and patronising comments.
I’ve manage to avoid Shaun, but today my luck runs out. I have a class in one of the upstairs rooms in the same building as his office and I’m on my way past when his door opens. We both stop and look at each other, a wave of anger sweeping over me as I take in his smug face.
“Fleur. A word please.”
I hesitate and glance at Steph.
“I’ll be with you in a few minutes.”
She cocks a brow. “Uh huh.”
“No! Not like that.” My cheeks heat and I hope to hell Shaun doesn’t hear the exchange.
Steph leaves, and our lecturer from the class passes us with a nod to Shaun on the way out. The building entrance door closes. I listen for movement upstairs but the creak of floorboards stopped.
“I’ll talk to you here,” I say and cross my arms.
“Fine. How’s the dissertation going?”
“Almost done.”
“Is the paper much different to the work we discussed?”
“I think so.”
Shaun gestures to his office. “I really think you need to come inside and discuss this.”
“I don’t have anything else to discuss with you.”
Shaun steps closer and I step back. “Don’t you want my help?”
The awareness we’re alone in the building edges in. “No.”
“I think you may need it.” He’s close. Too close and I attempt to back up again but I hit the wall.
How did I misjudge this man and become caught up in his spin and clever seduction techniques? “Why?”
“I published a paper last week. An article in American Historical Review to showcase some of my new research.”
“Prestigious. Good for you.”
“You should read it.”
“I will.” I edge away but Shaun places his hand against the wall, caging me in. I straighten. “Get the hell away from me.”
“You think you’re special, don’t you?” he whispers, his breath against my cheek. A reminder of the night he attempted to persuade me into sex is triggered by his subtle scent and the prickling fear intensifies at his tone.
We’re alone.
“Do you think you’re too good for me? Well you’re not.”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
He places the other arm against the wall and looks down at me, body centimetres from touching. “If you fuck rock stars, you must be easy. Time you let me have a go too.”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that,” I say in a low voice. I need to get away. Now.
“It would be in your interests. Believe me.”
“You’re disgusting!” I push him in the chest but he catches my arm. “This is harassment! I’ll report you!”
Shaun laughs. “Good luck with that.”
“Come near me again and I will!”
He lets go and brushes my coat where the material has creased. “When you need me to help clear things up, let me know. We can come to an arrangement.”
“Clear what up?”
His mouth curls into a knowing smile. “Misunderstandings. Good night, Fleur.”
I refuse to be drawn into his game and don’t respond. My head is screaming a hundred questions, but my sixth sense sends me to the door before he takes hold of my arm again – or worse.
As I hurry across campus through dusk, I drag my phone out and call Will.
“Hey!” he answers. “Two secs.”
The background noise quiets as he moves. “How’s your day?”
“Will.” No other words come as I hold back tears.
“Fleur?”
I gulp down air. “When are you back? I want to see you.”
“What’s happened?”
“I just want to see you. I miss you.”
“I’m in Edinburgh tomorrow. I won’t be back until Monday.”
“Okay,” I say in a whisper.
He pauses. “Fleur. Tell me what happened.”
I can’t. I don’t want anybody to know what happened with Shaun – today or any time. Will already suspects and I don’t want him involved. I’m embarrassed and ashamed that I’ve been so stupid. My mistake. I can deal with the arsehole on my own.
I fight the thickness in my throat. “I just had a bad day, that’s all. How’s your day?”
My light tone may or may not have fooled Will. I don’t know, and I sit on a bench to listen to his voice. Will’s stories of his recent band interview and photo shoot amuse me, the stories of Jax and Ruby refusing to do as they’re told by their publicist. I’m gradually pulled away from the crap of my day.
; “Thank you,” I say when he pauses.
“For what?”
“Helping me switch off. Caring.”
“You know how much I care, Fleur. I hope you’ve told me the truth.”
“Honestly, it’s only stress about assignments.”
“Right. You know what’s funny? I can tell from your voice how you’re feeling.”
“Why’s that funny?”
“‘Cause that’s never happened before with a chick. Weird, huh?”
“Well, you are weird, Will.”
“Shut up.”
“Excuse me!”
A soft laugh is my answer. “I miss you. I want to know what’s bothering you and help.”
“By help I hope you mean a hug and not tracking down the perpetrator.”
“Of course. As soon as I’m back in London, I’m there.”
We face our usual end of call awkwardness. What’s the etiquette here? Are we dating? More? Every time the endless moments pass, where we both attempt to figure out what to say, my heart rate speeds. Today I don’t want him to end the call, not yet.
“I’ll look forward to Monday,” I reply.
“You’re funny. You sound like you’re organising a business meeting. So formal.”
“Don’t tease me.”
“I’ll see you on Monday and we can deal with our unfinished business.”
When we end the call, I clutch the phone to my chest and summon up images of Will to replace those of disgusting Shaun.
Images of our unfinished business.
Chapter Thirty
FLEUR
Will returns a couple of days later, and I’m surprised by him waiting outside the lecture theatre. I hadn’t arranged to see him until later today. I see Will before he notices me; he’s sitting on a bench hunched against the cold November day with hands in pockets as he watches people pass. More people seem to notice him these days, although on campus he’s still Will Campbell, student, to most.
One or two stop to speak to him and he grins. I share his happiness; if he’s smiling this broadly, they’re complimenting him on the new album or his music. With this comes a sinking in the pit of my stomach. He’ll leave campus. It’s inevitable. Although I’m happy to see him, another part of me resents he came back this academic year and stole his way into my heart. If he’d stayed away, I wouldn’t be facing hurt.