13.
Ada
My brain shut off, like an electricity grid suddenly losing power. One minute, it was a map of switched on, glowing lights, and the next, darkness. No connections were going through.
Jonathan Oaks kissed me, his lips caressing mine, coaxing them to open, and something not associated with my logical brain took over. I could taste the trace of alcohol on his tongue, but even that wasn’t enough to pull me out from under his spell. Perhaps I hadn’t fully woken up yet, and that was why I was so pliant. A quiet noise of pleasure escaped me, and I let him deepen the kiss, his hands still cupping my face as his tongue sensuously dipped inside my mouth. He took his time tasting me, and tingles scattered across my skin. Jonathan dragged me closer, his arousal hard and straining against my belly as I continued to let him kiss me.
My inability to think blinded me to the grave error I was making. This was my first kiss since Cathal. I hadn’t felt the need to try and date, too busy with work and spending time with Dad and Leonora. Finding a man hadn’t been a priority. And now, my decision-making was shot because I merely stood there letting Jonathan kiss me. For the first time in years, a man’s mouth was on mine, and perhaps that was why my body took over, a soft sigh escaping me.
A rumble akin to a growl vibrated up his throat as he tilted my head to deepen the kiss, ravishing me with his mouth. I gasped into his lips, and the sound spurred him into action because one hand left my cheek, travelling down my bare neck.
Breaking the kiss for the first time, his mouth joined his hand, laying hard, shiver-inducing kisses on my neck before he murmured huskily in my ear, “Can I taste you?”
His question was the spark that brought my internal grid back online, the words forcing a bolt of logic into my brain. Jonathan was very, very drunk, and I was stone cold sober yet still going along with this. Finally thinking clearly, I placed my hands to his chest and pushed him back a few inches. His eyes were still closed, his face leaning forward, lips seeking mine.
I cleared my throat, and his eyes opened.
“Jonathan,” I said, hoping the sound of his own name might ground him, bring about a little sobriety and common sense. “You need to go to bed.”
He smiled in a way that made my stomach fizzle, all slow and sensuous, a few strands of hair hanging down over his forehead. He smelled like spirits and expensive cologne, a heady mixture. “Yes, you’re right. Bed. Excellent idea.” When he reached for me once again, I gripped his shoulders to keep him at bay.
“No,” I replied. “You need to go to your own bed. Where are your keys?”
“Keys?” he frowned, stepping back and putting his hands in his pockets to search for them. I watched as he bumped into the couch then fell down. He really was plastered. Jonathan was strewn across the couch, his eyelids drooping as he gave up the search. I folded my arms, trying to decide how I was going to get him across the hall and into his own apartment when a soft snore sounded, and I belatedly saw he was already asleep.
Great.
Well, I guess it wasn’t such a disaster if he slept here for the night. At least this way, I might hear him choking on his own vomit and get to him in time to administer first aid. Grabbing the wool blanket I’d been snuggling under while reading and sipping hot cocoa earlier in the night, I threw it over Jonathan, made sure his head was positioned on a pillow and slipped off his fancy leather shoes. I left the glass of water within grabbing distance in case he woke up thirsty, and then I shut off the lamp and went back to bed.
Leaving my door open a crack so I could hear him if the vomit choking incident occurred, I crawled under the duvet and tried to sleep. Unfortunately, I couldn’t stop replaying the kiss, nor his huskily spoken question, Can I taste you?
My thighs clenched at the memory.
It had been a long time since a man spoke to me in such a way, and I was turned on beyond belief. I had no right to be so aroused from Jonathan’s drunken come on. I should be incensed, but I just couldn’t find it in me, not when he’d called me beautiful, and certainly not when I’d enjoyed his lips as much as I had. The way he’d practically commanded me with his tongue. I couldn’t help wondering how well he’d kiss while sober. Then again, that was a futile thing to wonder since he very obviously wouldn’t have kissed me at all if he weren’t drunk out of his mind. The beer goggles were the reason he’d thought me beautiful.
With any luck, he wouldn’t remember what he’d done, and the incident could live embarrassment free in my head only.
I also wondered why he’d drank so much. I’d been living next to him for a couple weeks and hadn’t witnessed him drink like he had tonight. Perhaps he’d simply been to a party and went a little overboard. Ben had mentioned Jonathan was going out after work, so we wouldn’t need to pick him up on the drive home.
It took a long while to fall asleep, and I found myself anxiously waking up several times to check on Jonathan. Each time, he was sleeping soundly, his breathing steady and even. My concern for him wasn’t unusual. When I was a kid, Dad often got blind drunk, and Mam would storm out of the house in a fit, normally taking Frances with her and leaving me to watch over him and make sure he survived the night. It had always been that way. I was closer to Dad, and Frances was the apple of Mam’s eye. Until the day when he was the worst I’d ever seen him. The day that changed everything.
The next time I woke up, it was to the buzz of my phone ringing. Seeing Frances’ name on the screen, I answered promptly.
“Morning, sis,” I greeted, my voice a little groggy.
“Oh no, did I wake you? The girls always have me up at the crack of dawn, and I sometimes forget that other people aren’t up as psychotically early on a Saturday.”
“You did, but it’s fine. I didn’t plan on sleeping in anyway. How are you? Everything okay with the kids?”
“I’m fine. The kids are good. Still a little forlorn over Dad, but that’s to be expected. I was actually wondering if they could come visit their aunty Ada in her new apartment today? They haven’t seen you in a while, and they keep pestering me to go see you.”
“Oh,” I said, my brain kicking into gear since I still hadn’t gotten around to telling Frances about the penthouse yet. As far as she was concerned, I was living in an apartment with two flatmates, a fictional setup far from the luxury I’d been enjoying as of late. “About the apartment, there was actually a change of plan in the end.”
“There was? How so?”
“Well, do you remember Jonathan Oaks?”
“Of course. I won’t forget that handsome face any time soon,” Frances replied humorously, and my tummy flipped, remembering last night. The way he’d kissed me, drinking me in like he’d been dying to.
“Well, it turns out, he owns an empty property and offered for me to rent it at below the market price, so now I have my own place. Lucky, eh?”
“Wow, that’s … I wasn’t expecting that. But how did you even see him again after the funeral?”
“I had to stop by Leonora’s to collect some of Dad’s stuff that was left behind,” I said, recalling that Jonathan still hadn’t returned those items after I’d sped off that evening. “Things weren’t working out in the flat share.” I hated to lie, but I just couldn’t bring myself to reveal the truth to my sister. “I mentioned it to Jonathan, and he took pity on me.”
“Well,” Frances said like she was absorbing the information. “That was kind of him.” A silence fell before she went on, “Are you sure that’s all there is to it?”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s just that people don’t generally go around doing such kindnesses for virtual strangers. Plus, the way he behaved the first time you met doesn’t really mesh with this offer to rent his property. He could have an ulterior motive. Didn’t you say he worked in investments? What if he’s dodgy and doing insider trading? Or cleaning money for criminals?”
I laughed at that. Frances’ imagination could run a little wild at times. “And how would letting me rent his apartment help with any of that?”
“Well, how much is he charging you in rent?” she replied. “If he’s giving you a deep discount, he could be making up the difference with dirty money and cleaning it by claiming it’s being paid by you.”
“You’ve been watching too many crime documentaries.”
“Hey! It’s not out of the realm of possibility. I’m just trying to figure out what’s going on because this level of generosity isn’t computing for me.”
I let out a sigh, keeping my voice low in case Jonathan had woken up and could hear me. “I think he’s having a hard time with his mother’s death, and I think … I think having me around keeps her alive in his mind a little bit.”
“Oh,” Frances exclaimed. “Oh, Ada, that’s so sad. The poor man.”
Remembering how drunk he’d gotten last night and my creeping suspicion that he’d done it to drown out whatever was going on his head, I made a sound of agreement. “I know.”
A short silence fell before Frances blew out a breath. “So, can we still come visit? Will you send me the address?”
“Yes, but I just need to warn you in advance it’s fancy.”
“How fancy?”
“Shockingly fancy. As in, a penthouse apartment with amazing views and furniture that costs more than I’ve earned in my entire life fancy.”
“Blooming hell, in that case, maybe we should just meet up at the park instead? My three monsters are liable to ruin some of that costly furniture, and with Christmas coming up, I can’t afford the repairs,” she said on a chuckle.
“Right, that might be a good idea, actually.”
“How does midday sound?”
“Perfect. See you then.”
After hanging up, I went to use the bathroom then threw on the same cardigan from last night and went to check on Jonathan. He was still fast asleep on the couch, the water untouched. My eyes traced the masculine lines of his face and how the top few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a light thicket of hair and faintly golden skin. Heat rose in my cheeks when I realised I was ogling him, and I hurried to the kitchen. Filling a bowl with cereal, I returned to the living area and sat on the armchair, my gaze returning to Jonathan as I munched. I tried to decide if I should wake him or just let him sleep.
A moment later, I didn’t have to decide because his eyes slowly opened, and he groaned. “Good God, woman, do you have to chew so loudly?”
I laughed softly. “My bad. How’s your head?”
“Thumping,” he replied, endeavouring to sit. My stomach somersaulted when he picked up the glass of water and downed it in three thirsty gulps. My traitorous gaze lowered to his throat, finding it impossibly sexy. When had I ever found a man’s throat sexy before? Possibly never.
He didn’t ask why he was there and not in his own apartment, which led me to believe he remembered how he’d ended up on my couch. The kiss . His heated question that created a desire in me I hadn’t felt in ages. Cathal was handsome, but he’d never stirred the kind of sensations and attraction Jonathan did without even really trying. I was constantly distracted by the little things he did, like how he sometimes adjusted his cufflinks or absentmindedly loosened his tie, drawing my attention to his strong hands and masculine jawline.
A long silence fell after he set the glass back down on the coffee table. Finally, his eyes met mine, and I knew instantly that he remembered last night vividly by the flare of knowledge in his intelligent gaze. Strangely, he didn’t seem regretful, not even apologetic. In fact, the way he drank me in made me bizarrely feel like he was considering kissing me again, this time without the alcohol rushing through his bloodstream and lowering his inhibitions.
“So, were you at a party or something?” I asked.
“Pardon?”
“Last night, you were very drunk. I thought maybe you were out celebrating.”
Jonathan rubbed his jaw, a frown marring his features. “More like drowning my sorrows. I ran into an old friend of Mam’s yesterday at work, and it messed me up a little.”
My heart squeezed. “I’m sorry.” I paused as I studied him with a gentle gaze. “Alcohol is never the solution to pain.”
“It helps numb it a lot, though,” he countered.
“Right, but in the end, it becomes a crutch that has the ability to destroy you. Believe me, I speak from experience.”
Jonathan stared at me a moment, too hungover to comprehend at first, but then it dawned on him, and he swore under his breath. “Your father.”
“It’s been a long time since I found myself waking up out of anxiety every hour to check on someone who was blackout drunk. I was scared you might choke on your own vomit.”
Jonathan raked a hand through his hair and grimaced. “Fuck, Ada. Forgive me. I didn’t think …” he trailed off, his gaze softening. “Thank you for taking care of me. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
“I just hope you’re all right. But I can certainly understand why you’d want to just drink away your troubles right now. It’s an awful time. I find myself missing Dad and Leonora in moments, and the pain is just unbearable. Like when I’m waking up in the morning, and for a few brief seconds, I forget they’re gone. Those moments are even worse because they’re inevitably followed by the realisation that they are gone.”
When I finished speaking, I found Jonathan sitting forward on the couch, elbows resting on his thighs as he stared at me in an intense way that made my skin tingle.
“Well, I guess that’s death for you. It’s never going to be easy to go through,” I went on, feeling weirdly self-conscious under his keen attention. “So, I certainly understand if you’ve found yourself acting out of character. We can just put last night to bed. We don’t need to speak about it.”
Jonathan’s perceptive gaze sharpened. “I wasn’t acting entirely out of character,” he said, some pointed meaning in his words, and my cheeks heated before a loud vibration broke the quiet.
“Fuck, why does that have to be so loud?” he complained as he grabbed for his ringing phone where it lay on the floor. I spotted his sister’s name on the screen just before he answered it.
“Maggie, hello.” A pause, then, “Right, I forgot about that. My apologies. Last night went a little later than planned. Oh, he did, did he? Yes, I do recall him putting me in a taxi.” A brief chuckle. “Okay, I’ll be there in a minute.” Another pause. “No. I’m in 804.” Pause. “Yes, I slept here last night. I’ll be out to you now.” He hung up and emitted a rumbly groan.
“Everything okay?”
“I forgot my sister Maggie and I had planned to share breakfast this morning. She’s out in the hall now waiting for me.”
“Oh, right. Well, go ahead. You don’t want to leave her waiting any longer.”
Jonathan shot me a long-suffering look. “I told her I’d cook for us.”
I chuckled. “Perhaps you should order in instead. I don’t expect you’re well enough to cook for anyone right now.”
“Good idea,” he replied, a hint of a smile touching his lips as he stood and slid his shoes back on before gathering the other items he’d left on the floor by the couch. I walked him to the door, and just before he was about to leave, he turned back. His eyes seemed to take in my face, almost caressing my features. “Thank you again for last night. For watching over me.”
“That’s … um, no problem. Thank you for letting me live here.”
His eyelids lowered as his focus went to my lips. He looked like he was about to say something before he thought better of it and closed his mouth. A smirk formed when he glanced over my shoulder then looked back at me. Bending down, he murmured, “By the way, can I borrow that book when you’re finished with it?”
My eyes bugged, and I swore my entire body was shrouded in embarrassment when he turned and left before I had the chance to respond. I stood there, frozen to the spot. So, it was confirmed. He remembered everything. The book. The kiss. The most startling thing was, he didn’t seem to be regretful or embarrassed over what he’d done. Not even a little.
Jonathan Oaks, hungover as he was, seemed to be relishing the fact that he’d kissed me in a state of drunkenness. The trouble was, I hadn’t been drunk. I’d been sober as a judge, and I’d kissed him back, even made noises of enjoyment while his mouth plundered mine.
He remembered, and he was even on the verge of being smug about it.
I was never going to live it down.