Chapter 8
SARAH
Guilty Pleasure | Chappell Roan
As she navigated the underground far too early the following morning, it became more difficult to remember why she’d opted out of staying at Alex’s house the night before. It might have been worth avoiding that particular torment.
But since Zoe was stuck at a team building event—on a Saturday , just another reminder that being self-employed was the right decision—Abby had secured the rights to Alex’s car so they didn’t have to take the train. And that meant Sarah agreeing to breakfast at his house before they continued on to Watford to check the progress on their dresses.
Sarah mentally steeled herself for encountering him again, in front of the one person who could always see through her, no less. He’d agreed to keep their secret, sure, but if he kept up the flirting, at some point people would become suspicious.
Not to mention how deeply annoying it was.
Sarah had wondered why Erik spent half his life at Alex’s house instead of simply moving into their flat—she had offered —but by the time she was on her second cup of rich, exquisite coffee, watching Abby whisk a large bowl of eggs for French toast, then prep fresh berries, ricotta, and honey, she was beginning to understand. Life at Alex’s seemed good . Even better, considering the man in question wasn’t around. Apparently lengthy Saturday morning runs were his norm.
The quiet click of claws on hardwood grew louder moments before Celine slipped into the kitchen.
‘Shit, sorry, I should have put her in her room before—’ Abby broke off as she turned to find the dog, not quite nuzzling Sarah’s hand, but at the very least giving it a friendly sniff. ‘It took her weeks to touch me like that.’ Hurt coloured her friend’s tone.
Sarah shrugged, even if a small part of her glowed with pleasure at being chosen in some way. ‘She doesn’t go running with them?’
Abby shook her head. ‘She’s still a little young. Alex will take her for something shorter later.’ Her mouth was still turned down in the corners, and Sarah sought to assuage her.
‘This is probably from you and Maggie wearing her down. She was pretty calm when she met me last night too.’
‘Alex introduced you to her last night?’ Abby raised both eyebrows, and Sarah found herself mentally cataloguing the room’s exits. ‘He said he hated letting her meet new women unless he absolutely had to.’
After a lengthy snack, Celine walked back to Sarah’s chair and curled up next to it, just shy of her feet.
‘I guess he figured I’ll be around a bit, with wedding planning,’ Sarah offered. ‘Doesn’t sound like that’s the case for most of the women wandering through here.’ She muttered it, but Abby snorted in response.
‘Sarah Owens, are you slut-shaming my brother-in-law?’
‘No!’ Sarah fully supported people sleeping around if they wanted. ‘You know I don’t have a problem with casual sex. I just hope he makes sure everyone involved knows it’s casual from the beginning.’
‘Do you not like Alex? He’ll be heartbroken. He loves being liked. I would be thrilled, if I didn’t need to ask you to run another wedding errand together.’ She grimaced, her voice pleading.
Sarah neatly ignored her first question, trying not to let her discomfort show as she asked, ‘What do you need?’
‘Could you meet him at the florist on Tuesday afternoon? It’s the earliest appointment they had, but Erik has a meeting, and I have a tutoring session, and Alex—miraculously—has a gap in his schedule.’ As Abby spoke, she soaked thick slices of expensive-looking bread in the egg mixture before laying them in a baking dish.
‘Yeah, sure.’ Even to her ears, it did not sound convincing. ‘You’ll give me an idea of what you want?’
‘Honestly, I’ll take whatever they can supply on such short notice. Oh’—Abby turned, egg dripping off the slice of bread in her hand—‘my mother would like it if I kept the daisies to a minimum. She doesn’t want the focal point of the flowers she’s paying for to be weeds.’ Abby rolled her eyes, even as her mouth pinched slightly.
Sarah knew her friend’s relationship with her parents was improving, but she also knew Abby had accepted that some elements of her mother’s personality were still not worth fighting against.
‘Babe, they’re your favourite. Not to mention, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Erik give you a different type of flower.’
‘It’s fine. I don’t even care about the flowers, really. I’ll have some sprinkled into my bouquet, and as long as the centrepieces are pretty, I’m not that bothered by what’s in them.’
‘Why doesn’t she see the florist, if she cares so much?’ Genuine annoyance formed her question, rather than the desire to avoid Alex. Mostly.
‘Because you both have much better taste than her. Or at least, more modern taste.’ Abby’s mouth twisted. ‘If you don’t want to, Alex can do it alone. I trust him. I just—’ Suddenly the ricotta in front of her appeared tremendously interesting.
‘What?’
‘It would be nice for me if you two got to know each other. You’re my best friend, and—I will murder you if you ever tell him this, I swear—I really care about him. He’s always felt like my big brother, and I’m really glad he’s back in my life in a big way. I know the way he comes across, Sarah. But he has such a big heart, and I think he might actually just be—’
Thuds approaching the kitchen interrupted her, and Erik barrelling through the door and towards his fiancée stopped Sarah finding out what Alex might actually be.
However, Alex definitely was sliding onto the seat beside her, a slight sheen covering his very bare chest. She’d known he was built. That chest had pressed against hers, a hard plane all her softness had melted against. Those arms had circled her body and lifted it without a hint of effort. But seeing each ridge on display—beads of sweat clinging to a few crevices, a scar just below his collarbone, tattoos everywhere—was an entirely different beast. Combined with the hat he’d turned backwards, it sent a swoop through her stomach. An entirely annoying, not at all pleasurable swoop.
‘Morning, Princess,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I could get used to the sight of you on my breakfast nook first thing in the morning.’
Another swoop. ‘You mean at.’
‘Do I?’ He was enjoying himself. She hated it.
She hated it even more when he reached between them, scratching Celine behind the ear while she snored contentedly.
‘Can you put on a shirt?’ Sarah snapped. The compulsion to examine each of his tattoos, unobscured for the first time, felt nearly overwhelming. That and that alone was why her eyes kept dipping downwards. Of course.
Alex laughed, leaning closer. ‘One, I don’t see you ordering my brother to get dressed. Which leads me to believe that your objection is specifically to me being shirtless. I wonder why that is?’ He gave her a moment’s consideration, blue eyes flickering to her chest, where she could feel a flush spreading. ‘Two, it’s my house, and I just finished a 10K run. The only reason I’m still wearing anything is because of those freeloaders,’ he finished, nodding towards Abby and Erik.
The words not me? had to have been etched in the lift of her eyebrows, because he chuckled again, darker this time, and pitched his voice even lower.
‘These shorts aren’t hiding anything you haven’t already seen.’
The truth was, she hadn’t seen much of him in that dimly lit bathroom. He’d moved so quickly that her mind had no sooner hit on thank god he has a condom , when it was overwhelmed by holy shit, he feels so good .
Plus, when her traitorous eyes dipped lower, she could see the feathered edges of yet another tattoo disappearing under the hem of his shorts, adding more definition to his already stupidly muscular thighs.
‘More?’
More of him, those legs, the artwork covering his skin? It was a resounding yes to all, and she hated herself for it.
A snort had her eyes snapping back up. Her flush was getting warmer.
‘More what?’ Sarah snarled, still taking care to keep her voice quiet. For once, she was glad that the world ceased to exist to Abby when Erik re-entered her orbit.
‘Coffee. Though I’m sure I’m on board with whatever thoughts you were having about my thighs.’
Sure enough, his large hand was already wrapped around the handle of her mug. ‘Yes to the coffee.’
‘And the rest?’
‘In your dreams, Aleksander,’ she crooned.
Alex’s fingers lightly trailed her lower back as he stood to pass her, bringing back memories of the last time his hands had pressed there. She had to suppress a shiver.
‘Trust me, Princess. In my dreams, you’re always in close proximity to my legs.’