19. April
Chapter 19
April
A scratchy, tickling sensation rouses me from my sleep. Slowly, I open my groggy eyes and lift my head to discover Basil licking my fingers, which are dangling off the sofa’s edge. The courtyard glistens with dampness and buttery sunshine spills through the large windows, casting a glow that makes me squint against the daylight. I spy an empty red wine bottle on the coffee table, faintly recalling pouring myself a generous glass after James dashed out last night, which probably explains my pounding headache.
“Hey, buddy,” I coo at Basil, running my hands over his silky fur.
Sitting up, I drape a fluffy woollen blanket over my shoulders. “Fuck, it’s cold this morning.”
Confused and dazed, I look down at my bare legs and realise I fell asleep in my miniskirt.
On the couch.
After almost rubbing off my ex-fiancé’s brother.
One minute I’m crying over Lucas, and the next I’m drawn to James .
Letting him touch me.
I know it wasn’t right, but it felt good.
His warm touch. The deep, dulcet tones of his smooth voice.
He must have felt it too. It’s what made him run.
“Ugh,” I mutter, covering my eyes and cringing at the vivid memory of him slamming the door.
I’m struck by the memory of his large, calloused hands, the way they felt running over the thin fabric of my shirt, and how the pressure of his palm against my core set me on fire, igniting my insides and leaving me wanting more. The sharp contour of his jawline, and the intensity of his mossy eyes.
James showed me a side of himself I haven’t seen before, a rare vulnerability, and it drew me in like honey. Well, that and he’s one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever laid eyes on.
Even though he has that classic bad-boy look going for him, James also possesses a captivating beauty in his imperfections. There’s a rugged kind of charm to him—the small scar by his eyebrow, his ever-present facial hair, and that singular dimple? God , that dimple. My mother once told me that dimples were kisses from angels, and that thought makes me smile. There’s nothing angelic about James. He looks as sinful as they come—temptation personified. His wavy hair always sits perfectly, as if all it takes each morning is a quick run of his fingers through the strands to make them fall flawlessly into place.
He’s gorgeous.
Reprimanding myself for the thoughts swirling in my mind, I reluctantly pull myself off the couch, padding barefoot to the kitchen to feed Basil, and then drag myself upstairs for a much-needed shower.
Flicking on the en suite light, I’m immediately confronted with my dishevelled reflection. I fell asleep in last night’s make-up, so my foundation has worn off unevenly. Thanks to my emotional outburst, mascara tracks streak my cheeks, and my hair is a mess.
Yes, I’ve certainly seen better days.
Rifling through the bathroom cabinets, I finally lay hands on my hairbrush and face wipes. I strip away the remnants of foundation and eyeshadow, and untangle the knots in my hair. With a determined twist, I turn the shower tap, opting for scorching hot to wash away the messy evidence of last night.
I’m stepping out of my skirt when the sight of the vibrator Anna and Gemma gifted me catches my attention. Deciding not to overthink it, I snatch it from my bedside table and return to the shower. I step under the spray, place the vibrator in the caddy, and tilt my head back, letting the heat soothe my sore head. Once I’ve shampooed and conditioned my hair, I lather my face wash before scrubbing my skin clean.
The longer I stand under the water, the more I fixate on James. The comfort that I felt with his touch. I’m still reeling from the revelation that he was on the brink of proposing to his ex-girlfriend. Lucas never mentioned their relationship being that serious. Then again, I suppose there are many things Lucas didn’t share with me.
I think of James’s sculpted arms and muscular legs as he sat inches from me on the sofa, and my cheeks flush.
I honestly don’t think I would have stopped if he hadn’t.
It felt good being that close to someone again.
I didn’t realise how much I missed a man’s touch until I felt his.
I wondered if I had imagined it, but he was hard, so I know he was as turned on as I was. His mouth was so close to mine I could taste him. I press my back against the cool tiles and reach for the vibrator.
I trail my empty hand down my stomach until I reach my wet centre. With slow, deliberate movements, I part myself and begin circling my clit with two fingers. I imagine James’s rough hands running over my skin and kneading my breasts. I picture him sucking a nipple into his mouth before biting down on my soft flesh. A whimper escapes my lips as I grow slicker.
A low hum echoes off the tiled walls as I click the vibrator on. Pressing it against my clit, I slide two fingers inside myself, relishing the sensation of fullness as I satisfy my craving for James from last night. I can almost feel his eyes on me, spurring me on as I indulge in the fantasy.
My chest rises and falls. The pressure sparks a surge of heat deep within me, spreading through my body and building towards my orgasm.
In my mind, I’m gripping his hair and tugging at the golden strands as I ride his hand. His tongue traces and teases every sensitive part of me. The pressure builds until I can’t hold back, releasing a soft moan as the dam breaks. My body trembles, and I slow my movements, prolonging the pleasure.
Fuck.
I just got off to the thought of James.
After brushing my teeth and blow drying my hair, I collapse onto my bed and bury my face in my hands.
A swell of shame funnels through me, and before I know it, tears begin to fall.
But I can’t give in to self-pity. I can push through this.
I wipe my freshly scrubbed cheeks and head to the kitchen to make myself a cup of coffee. Cradling the hot mug, I lean against the counter and take calming sips.
My phone rings, snapping me out of my relaxed state.
Setting my drink down, I cross the room to the coffee table, grabbing my discarded clutch and fishing out my phone. A smile tugs at my lips when Gemma’s name flashes on the screen.
“Hey!” I answer.
“Are you awake?” she asks.
I laugh under my breath. “Obviously.”
“Okay, great. Can you open the door?”
“What? Are you here?”
“No, I’m hanging out with Rose and Gary,” she says sarcastically. “Yes, I’m here.”
I end the call with a soft chuckle, slipping my phone into my pocket as I head to the door. When I open it, I find Gemma standing there, balancing a tray of three coffees in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other. “Let me in, my nipples are threatening to cut cloth!”
I step aside and reach for the tray of coffees. “Here, let me.”
“No, no, I’m all good,” she insists.
“Three coffees?” I ask as she follows me into the kitchen, the fresh brew filling the room with a delicious aroma.
“Anna’s on her way,” she shoots back, hobbling behind me. I look at her ankle, wondering about the story behind the limp, but I hold back the question and instead turn my attention to setting plates on the counter.
“I was just making a drink. I could’ve offered you a coffee,” I tell her.
Gemma sets the tray on the kitchen island, sliding a paper cup in my direction, “Ew, no thanks. You drink that instant crap—I’m not poisoning myself with that.”
“Let’s be real. You’ve let much worse things inside your body,” I retort, raising a brow. “You’re a total coffee snob. But thank you for the cappuccino. You’re my hero.”
“First of all, that was research—you know this,” she fires back. “I went on those awful dates and let those men into my body for the plot. ” She jabs a finger at her chest. “And second, former barista, remember? I have standards.”
Her grin turns sly as she leans against the counter. “Also, I’m not the hero here. Word is that title belongs to James.”
I sigh. “I’m guessing Anna filled you in on last night?”
Gemma wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.
“Nothing happened.”
Gemma slaps her palms on the bench, rolling her eyes. “Boring!”
I zero in on the takeaway bag. “What’s in there?”
We both smirk and exclaim in unison, “Croissants!”
Anna doesn’t bother knocking as she lets herself inside. Shrugging off her jacket and slipping out of her shoes, she looks over, eyes snagging on the takeaway bag. “Gemma, if that isn’t a bag of fresh croissants, I will fucking riot.”
“She brought coffee too,” I say.
Anna looks to the ceiling and mutters, “There is a God.”
Gemma extends her hand, offering Anna the cup of liquid gold, which she gratefully accepts. At my first bite, the crispy pastry coats my mouth with sweet, buttery goodness, and I release a long moan.
“That good, eh?” Anna asks, taking a bite of her own.
I give her a sidelong glance, my words muffled by a mouthful of croissant as I reply flatly, “It’s been a while.”
I quickly chew and swallow before shifting my focus to Gemma. “Now that we’re all here”—I gesture toward her ankle—“what happened? Why are you limping?”
“So, remember that guy from last night?” Gemma begins, catching both Anna’s and my attention. “Well, he took me back to the hotel he was staying at. He accidentally fell on my ankle when he tried to move me mid-intercourse. I’m pretty sure he sprained it.” She calmly takes a large bite out of her croissant.
My eyes widen before Anna and I burst into laughter.
“That’s almost as good as the vibrator story,” Anna says.
“Would you like some frozen peas?” I offer.
“You can stick your peas, smart-ass. Laugh all you want, I’m not the one who left the bar with my ex-fiancé’s brother ,” she replies, pinning me with an accusatory glare.
I side-eye Anna—damn her for telling Gemma. “Nothing happened!”
Anna pops her hip and purses her lips. “I call bullshit.”
Letting out a sigh, I run my fingers through my still-damp hair, gathering my thoughts before speaking. “Okay, fine … something happened.”
“I KNEW IT!” Gemma yells, rubbing her hands together. “Start from the beginning.”
I take a steadying breath and recount the details of Lucas turning up with a date and how James ended up bringing me home. Their eyes just about fall out of their sockets when I tell them about James brushing my boob, cupping my core, and getting hard before he bailed.
Frowning, I cast my gaze downwards, consumed with guilt as my body buzzes from the memory.
Gemma places a comforting arm around me. “What do I do?” I whisper.
I stand in the middle of the kitchen, confused and exposed. It’s clear James and Lucas aren’t close, but if anything had happened last night—and if I’m being honest, I would’ve let it—would I have made things worse between them? The question picks away at me. I never meant to come between them or cause pain, yet here I am, feeling like my actions and words confessed to James can do only that.
“I think it would be best to pretend that the incident never occurred. You won’t have to see James again. I’m sure neither of you anticipated that happening, and he’s probably feeling just as guilty as you are. It’s normal to seek comfort from someone familiar, especially when you’re hurting. And, in reality, nothing actually happened between the two of you,” Gemma says, always the voice of reason.
“Gemma,” Anna says firmly, “you know I love you, but I disagree.” She turns to me, her expression earnest. “I think there’s something between you two. I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she adds, covering my hand with hers and giving me a reassuring smile.
“What?” I ask, shocked. “He doesn’t look at me.”
“He does. He always has,” Gemma says.
What? Have I really been that oblivious this entire time?
Anna nods, continuing, “And anyway, Lucas can’t be angry even if something did happen.”
“He’s Lucas’s younger brother, Anna,” I say in a small voice, looking down. “It’s too close to home. Sure, he’s good-looking, but?—”
Anna scoffs. “Good-looking? April, a blind lesbian would be attracted to that man.”
Gemma laughs. “You already know what I think of him.”
I narrow my eyes and point at her. “Don’t even go there.”
She presses her lips together, clearly fighting the grin threatening to break free.
“Ugh,” I say, frustrated. “It doesn’t make any sense.”
Gemma shoots me a sympathetic smile. “That’s completely understandable. Emotions aren’t exclusive. You’re allowed to feel a range of things simultaneously. It’s normal to find James attractive while acknowledging Lucas’s shortcomings. They’re different people, and one feeling doesn’t cancel out the other.”
“Oh my God,” I state, dropping my head into my hands. “I’m such a mess!”
“Maybe this thing with James will be good for you,” Anna chimes in.
I look up, my brows pinched. “What do you mean?”
“Well, Lucas and James aren’t close, right?” she asks.
“Right …,” I start, unsure of where she’s going with this.
“So, have you considered maybe seeing where things could go with James?”
“Anna, they’re related ,” I say.
“So? And you were Lucas’s fiancée . It didn’t stop him from doing whatever the fuck he wanted.” I wince before she continues. “Why should Lucas’s opinion stop you from seeking happiness?”
“I’m not even sure James sees me that way,” I say.
“April, please.” She looks at me in disbelief. “No one’s buying that crap. The man had his hands on your tit and your minge less than twenty-four hours ago.”
I feel my cheeks pinken. “I think I’ll send him a message. Just a quick thank-you for bringing me home … and I’ll apologise for what happened.”
“I don’t think you need to say anything, but if it will help you, then I don’t see anything wrong with it,” Gemma says.
“Agreed. If it makes you feel better, then I think it could help,” Anna adds, nodding.
It’s a good idea.
It will clear the air.
I pull out my phone and begin typing a message.
Me: I’m really sorry about last night. I apologise if I made you feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t myself. But I appreciate you seeing me home, thank you.
I blow out a breath and drop my phone on the counter, anxiously awaiting a reply.