I elbow him in the stomach for being rude. Fortunately, Becky doesn’t seem to mind and instead just shrugs at him.
“Sorry. I told you I was socially awkward.”
“It’s fine. I have to meet up with someone before class.”
“Is it about Mr. Flint? I can come.”
“Mr. Flint?” Banner asks, stepping closer. “Isn’t that your Historical Literature teacher?”
Sending Becky a look and a subtle shake of my head, I turn to Banner. “Yeah.” I glance back at Becky, speaking before she can say anything else. “It’s just someone I need to talk to about something. It’s personal.”
“Why would you want to talk about your teacher?”
I inwardly groan, not wanting to lie to him, but thankfully, Becky picks up on the tension and answers. “We want to talk to someone about the criteria this term. He’s set too much work out for us to complete,” she lies.
“Oh.”
“Well, we’d better get going. My cousin is waiting to dish the dinner out. Are you sure you don’t want a lift?”
“I’m good. Have a nice evening, though.”
“Will do. And I’ll text you a time and place for Wednesday, okay?”
“Sounds good.”
We separate, both going our different ways. It’s not until we exit the park that Banner speaks up. “She’s the friend you made?”
“Yeah.”
“Emma?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“What? Why?” I ask, turning to face him.
“She’s really fucking weird.”
I burst out laughing, tucking my arm under his and resting my head on his shoulder. Even freezing cold and soaked through, this has been the second-best day since my arrival at Whithall. My first one is always going to be the first time Banner fell asleep in bed with me.
*** *** ***
We walk through the door and come to a sudden stop when we find Mark leaning on the back of the sofa, his ankles and arms crossed, a stern expression on his face.
“If you get a cold, don’t blame me.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I won’t. I’ve already filled that spot.”
His eyes flick to Banner, flashing with mirth. “Who?”
“Banner.”
“What? Why me? I brought blankets,” he argues, looking affronted. “And what about the puddles? Don’t they count for something?”
My lips twist as I tap my chin, pretending to think about it. “Depends how bad this cold will get.”
“Well, it’s gonna get worse if you don’t get in the shower and warm up,” he urges, pushing me towards the bathroom.
I laugh. “Okay. You go shower in the bathroom, I’ll use Mark and Levi’s en-suite.”
“Don’t be long, otherwise this dinner will go dry and taste like shit,” Mark shouts from the kitchen.
Not wanting to make him wait any longer, I rush into his room and turn on the shower. I’m stripped down and about to step inside when I realise I never grabbed any stuff. With Banner in the shower I normally occupy, it’s not like I can go and get them. Instead, I use what Mark has, wincing when I pick up his mint shower gel. I hate the smell of mint. It reminds me of the leaves my granddad likes to chew on. It’s gross.
What’s worse is the second I scrub some onto my skin, it burns, yet feels cold. “Holy fucking Christ. Is there acid in this?” I ask myself, picking the bottle up to read it.
I quickly wash it off, but the cool feeling is still there. I’m grateful Levi doesn’t use cheap men’s shampoo, choosing to use Dove instead. There is no way I’m going to jump in the shower again tonight to wash my hair just because Mark’s shampoo has made it feel like cardboard. I made the mistake of using it when I first got here. It dried rock hard and looked thick with grease.
My mind wanders back to the park and the way Banner held me. He was about to kiss me, there was no mistaking it. And he would have, if that lad hadn’t kicked his football at us. We would have picked up where we left off to if Mark hadn’t had called me. I can’t even be mad at Mark or the lad for interrupting the momentthe perfect moment for a first kissbecause they didn’t know about it. And deep down, a small part of me is glad the lad kicked the ball at us. My insecurities are screaming at me that I’ll lose him if we ever take our relationship further.
Down on paper, this situation seems pretty straight forward: the girl should just tell the boy she loves him. It’s the advice I would give someone if they were in my situation. The only difference is my feelings. I feel deeply for Banner. The kind of love that comes only once in a lifetime. I’ve loved before, but it’s nothing compared to how I feel about Banner. My heart never skipped when they walked into a room, and I never got that rush I get when I’m around Banner. I also never looked at them the way I look at him. I see beyond the tattoos and good looks. I see him. Just him.
I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around my body and one around my hair.
I’m faced with a serious dilemma: I don’t have any clothes. I smack my forehead, wondering what to do.
Peeking my head out the bathroom, I find Mark’s room still empty and his door still closed. I tip toe over, slowly and quietly pushing down the handle and pulling it open. Voices are coming from the kitchen, one belonging to Mark, the other Levi, which means Banner is still in the shower.
Great. This couldn’t get any worse.
Deciding to make a run for it before he finishes in the shower, I open the door and run across the hall to my room. I slam the door closed behind me and walk over to my chest of drawers. Finding a pair of pants, a bra, and some comfy, warm pyjamas, I drop my towel to the floor.
The sound of my door opening has a startled scream escaping me. I bend down to pick up my towel, but it’s too late. Banner stands in the doorway, his jaw slack as he looks me over. I quickly cover myself, frozen in place and too stunned to speak.
He just saw me naked.
He clears his throat, his eyes still on my half-naked body. I shift, wanting to hide, yet… feeling exhilarated at the same time. I’ve never had anyone look at me the way he’s looking at me right now.
“I forgot to take some clothes into the bathroom,” he croaks out.
When I realise I’m still standing here, clutching the towel to my body without saying anything in return, I die of mortification. I want him to stay as much as I want him to leave.
He takes a step forward, his eyes hooded.
“Are you two gonna stare at each other all day or are you going to get dressed and come eat the dinner I’ve slaved away cooking?”
Mark’s voice is like an ice-cold bucket of water thrown at me. I jump, nearly dropping the towel.
“Y-yeah.”
“I was just getting some clothes,” Banner rushes out before quickly grabbing his duffel bag from the floor.
He sends me one more intense gaze that holds a promise before leaving the room. I watch the space he just left for a few more moments, but Mark standing in the doorway snaps me out of it.
“Um, can you shut the door, so I can get dressed?”
The grin that spreads across his face has me narrowing my eyes at him.
“I can see why you have the hots for him. Did you see his arse?”
I gape at him before reaching over my bed and grabbing one of my small pillows. I throw it across the room. “Get out!”
He winks, not moving from the doorway. “Come on, did you at least look?”
“Mark!” I warn, feeling my cheeks heat.
“He was totally checking you out. And by the way, you’re showing nipple,” he whisper-yells.
I scream, grabbing another pillow, at the same time trying to keep the towel around me. “Get out!”
He laughs, shutting the door before the pillow can hit him. “I’m dishing out dinner. Does anyone want some tasty buns with it?” he yells through the door.
“Buns? We don’t have any buns,” Levi yells back.
“We
do,” Mark calls back, laughter in his voice.
“With a Sunday dinner, though? It’s random.”
I don’t hear Mark’s reply since he’s moved away from the door. Probably filling Levi in on what happened.
I take my time getting dressed, not ready to leave the confines of my room. I don’t know how I’m going to face Banner after he just saw me naked. Or the fact that I now know he was gawking at my peeping nipples.
I fall face first onto the bed, screaming into the blanket.
I just had to go and make an arse of myself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When I wake up the next morning, it’s to find Banner staring at me. I jump, shocked at seeing his face so close, even if it is a pretty sight to wake up to.
“Why are you staring at me, you creeper?”
When I notice the serious expression on his face, I bite my bottom lip worriedly. “We need to talk.”
“Can it wait until after coffee?” I ask hopefully.
He shoots down my request. “Nope.”
“Okay.”
We stay lying down, facing each other, my hand tucked under my cheek.
“About yesterday”
Feeling my face redden, I hold my hand up and cut him off. “Please, we don’t need to talk about it. It was an accident. You didn’t know I was in the room.”
He looks away briefly, before facing me. “You couldn’t look at me all night.”
“You saw me naked,” I grumble, embarrassed.
He grins, flashing his teeth. “I did.” I smack his arm, causing him to laugh. “Would it help you if you saw me naked?”
My face is probably redder than a tomato. I throw the blanket off me, feeling too hot. “No. It really wouldn’t.”
He sits up as I get out of bed and grab his hoody to fight off the chill. I don’t turn around when I brush my hair, not able to look at him without turning redder.
“What will it take for you to look at me? I miss your blue eyes.”
“They’re green,” I scoff, hurt he doesn’t know the colour of my eyes, even if he is half right.
I hear him move, getting more comfortable before he answers. “No, your eyes are blue with flecks of green. There’s more blue in them than there is green. You just have to look close enough.”
I spin around, trying to gauge whether he’s telling me the truth or not. His expression hasn’t changed. I glance at the mirror, trying not to look at my eyes. It’s hard, and in the end, I do, seeing exactly what he sees. I swallow the knot in my throat.
My nan always said to keep the ones that pay attention and know when you get your hair cut or buy a new pair of shoes. Those were the rare ones.
“What are your plans today?”
“I’m actually going to meet up with the lads to play footy this afternoon. Do you want to come with me?”
As much as I want to watch him run around a football field in a pair of shorts, I have other plans.
“I’m sorry; I can’t. I messaged Jordan yesterday to tell her I would meet her today. She’ll be here in an hour or so.”
“She not pissed at you about Max?”
I laugh, remembering him asking her to call him if she fancied Lake for an hour as we left the café. I was torn between being mortified and amused when Lake started attacking him.
“She’s fine. She’s used to dealing with it, and she knew he was only joking.”
“I don’t know. He’s a lad.”
I glare at him, cocking my hip to the side. “So, if you had a girlfriend and another girl offered to join, you wouldn’t mind?”
“If that’s your way of asking me if I’ve had a threesome, then yes, but I was never in a relationship with those girls. Would I do it if I was in a relationship? Fuck no. I’d never let the girl I love be seen or touched by another person—girl or boy.”
I rub my chest at his confession of being in a threesome. That is information I’d rather he had lied to me about. And hearing him talk about loving a girl, even one that doesn’t exist yet, hurts more than I care to admit.
“I need to shower. I don’t want to be late.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asks, jumping out of bed. I bite my lip as he walks towards me, his muscles tensing. He’s only in a pair of boxers, and they don’t hide the package beneath them.
I look away when I’m caught staring, grabbing some jeans and a T-shirt. “No. Why would I be mad? What you do or don’t do doesn’t concern me.”
“It doesn’t?” he asks. The bite in his tone has me pausing to face him.
“No. We’re just friends, aren’t we.”
His jaw clenches as he looks away, the veins in his neck bulging. “So, if I went out and got with a girl, you wouldn’t care?”
I’d die.
“Why are we talking about this?” I whisper, looking up at him through my lashes.
He runs his fingers through his hair, making it stick up. “I don’t know. I just don’t want you to be mad at me.”
“I’m not mad at you,” I tell him truthfully. I’m hurt, not mad.
“Good,” he tells me, before stepping forward and pulling me in for a hug.
I hug him back, blinking back tears. I’ve always played ‘what if’ when it came to him meeting a girl, and it always made my stomach cramp at the mere thought. I want him. And deep down, he’s mine, even if he doesn’t know it.
When I pull back, his face is close, his lips a breath away from mine. I blink rapidly, feeling my heart beat against my chest. There’s no doubt he can’t feel it. I feel my eyes droop when he runs a finger along my jaw.
Two taps on the door startle us apart. “Wake up, Jordan will be here in an hour, Emma,” Levi shouts through the door.
“I’m up,” I shout back, trying to calm my racing heart.
Banner groans, looking up at the ceiling. “For fucks sake.”
“You okay?”
His smile is forced when he looks down at me. “Yeah. I’ll let you get ready. I’d better go meet Tom.”
“Okay,” I tell him shakily, quickly grabbing my underwear before rushing out of the room.
Levi’s standing with his arms crossed just outside, startling a small squeak from me. I put my hand to my chest.
“What are you doing standing there?”
“Did I interrupt something? You two sounded out of breath.”
I roll my eyes. “No. We were talking about something. And stop acting like my dad.”
“I know you love him. I know he loves you, too. What I can’t figure out is if you two know it.”
“I wish people would stop saying that. What if you’re wrong and I make a fool out of myself?”
He scoffs. “Honey, I’m gay, not stupid. You couldn’t cut the sexual tension between you two, it’s that thick. Just make a move, put the poor sod out of his misery.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell him, shutting the bathroom door behind me before he can say anything else.
*** *** ***
Banner is gone by the time I leave the bathroom. I sigh, stepping into my room before Jordan gets here.
My gaze flicks to the bed when I see it’s made. I smile as I walk over, finding one of my flowers laying on top of a note.
Emma,
Please don’t be mad at me. I know what I said upset you, but I don’t want there to be secrets between us. You’ve confided in me with so much. I would hate for you to find out down the line when we’re married with kids, and have you hating me for not telling you. And you asked me. I couldn’t lie to you.
I will bring you Indian for dinner, so don’t eat.
Forgive me.
Banner.
I read the letter three times before I realise a few tears have fallen and I’m smiling. I can’t tell whether he’s joking about the marriage and children, but I can’t hide the effect those words have on me.
I quickly grab my phone from the bedside table and type out a text to him.
ME: I’ll always forgive you.
It takes a few minutes for him to reply, but when he does, I smile.
BANNER: What are we calling the kids?
ME: LOL
BANNER: I reckon we should have 4. 2 girls and 2 boys.
ME: Next you’ll be telling me we’ll have dog, a tree house, and a big wedding.
BANNER: Nope to the big wedding. You’d hate that. We’re going to have a small one. Just our close friends and family: Lake and her boyfriend, your grandparents, Mark and Levi, and my mum, dad and siblings. Yes, to the dog. We can call it Bruno. The tree house may take time, but we’ll do it.
ME: Are you for real? LOL. You do make me laugh.
BANNER: You’ll see. Speak to you later. Tom’s here.
BANNER: And while I’m gone, try to think on what we can call our second daughter. I’m at a loss.
I’m smiling when I roll my eyes, my stomach giddy with excitement. But I need to know
ME: What’s our first daughter’s name?
BANNER: Easy. Lara Catherine Banner.
I flop down on the edge of my bed, feeling tears fall and drop down to my lap. He sounds so serious. If he’s not, then this is a cruel joke playing with me like this.
I don’t message him back, too afraid of what I’ll say—and what he’ll say in return.
Knocking on the front door reminds me of Jordan. I rush out of the room, waving at Levi when he goes to get up from the sofa.
“I’ll get it.”
I open the door to find Jordan standing next to another girl. She’s tiny. She’s also really beautiful. But something about her seems broken. It’s her eyes, I realise, the emptiness inside them, the lack of life. I should know; I looked at the same dead expression staring back at me in the mirror for years.
She looks to her feet when she notices me staring, and I instantly feel bad. I never liked people analysing me—still don’t—and I can see she feels the same.
“Hey, this is my friend, Rosie. We thought we could hang out together today, if that’s okay?”
“That’s fine. Did you want to hang out here or go somewhere?”
She looks to Rosie, who bites her bottom lip. “I don’t mind.”
“It’s raining, and I just had my hair dyed. Would you mind if we stayed here?”
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