4. April
Chapter 4
April
N o one notices as I slip downstairs on wobbly legs, a dull throb between my thighs. The thought of what we just did sends a wave of heat through me—I want more. I want his tongue teasing me and his fingers buried deep inside me. My cheeks burn again at the memory, knowing that while everyone else was caught up in the party, I was completely consumed by him.
As I step off the last stair, I glance up, only to lock eyes with James. We stand, suspended in time, his gaze holding mine for a beat too long before he blinks, turning away and taking a slow pull from his beer. The way his jaw shifts sends a prickle of unease through me. He knows exactly what Lucas and I were doing. The fact that he caught us twists something inside me.
“There she is!” Anna’s voice slices through the moment as she weaves through the crowd with two sparkling flutes of bubbly. I wrench my eyes from James, accepting the glass from Anna. The condensation kisses my skin, tracing a path along my hand as the droplets slip down my fingers. I shift my focus to Anna, and we clink our flutes before both taking a sip. I’m still hot and flushed from my orgasm, so the wave of bubbles cools me down.
I catch sight of Lucas standing alone beside the outdoor heater in the courtyard, glued to his phone screen. Anna tracks my line of sight and nudges me, dipping her chin towards him. “Go on,” she says. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
I return her smile, giving her arm a gentle squeeze before slipping through the crowd. As I approach, Lucas glances up and slips his phone into his back pocket, stepping forward. His eyes latch onto mine, and before I can say a word, he wraps a thick arm around my waist, drawing me in close. “You really do look beautiful, baby,” he murmurs in my ear. I crane my neck to meet his gaze.
God, I love this man.
“I love you,” I whisper.
His hand drifts lower, sliding from my waist to my ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Oh yeah?” he asks. “How much?”
“I’ll show you how much later.”
One of his eyebrows arches as he tilts his head. “Well, I can’t wait for everyone to fuck off, then,” he says, and I lean into him, giggling.
Rising onto my tiptoes, I press my lips to his; he parts them instantly, opening for me. The kiss is unhurried, and as his tongue works against mine. I press my hips into him, and he groans in response.
I pull back just enough to whisper, “I can taste myself.”
His eyes darken. “You’re my favourite flavour.”
The faint buzz of his phone vibrates between us. He steps back and pulls it from his pocket. The absence of his touch feels like water lapping at my skin, cold and slipping away too quickly.
“Everything okay, babe?” I ask, keeping my voice light.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” he replies, glancing up briefly before slipping the phone back into his pocket.
“Oh, nothing. You’ve just been on your phone a lot lately. You seem a little distracted,” I say, hoping not to push too hard. I’ve noticed that he’s been on his phone more and more. From the moment he wakes up until he leaves for work, and then again the second he walks through the door. It’s not that he’s distant—he’s still sweet and affectionate—but I can’t seem to shake the feeling that there’s something he isn’t sharing with me.
I don’t like to pry. I never have. I’ve told myself again and again that if something were wrong, he’d tell me. But lately, that nagging doubt has started to fester, and it’s becoming difficult to ignore. I mentioned it to Gemma recently, and she reassured me that I shouldn’t take it personally. He’s probably nervous or busy with work. And she’s right—if Lucas didn’t want me, he wouldn’t still be here. If there was something going on, I’m certain he’d tell me.
His smile is easy. “It’s just a mate from work,” he says, rubbing his hand affectionately up and down my arm.
“Oh, okay.” A flicker of unease nestles into the shadows of my thoughts. His focus rests on me for a moment, then he tilts his chin towards the living room. “It’s cold, baby. You go on inside. I’ll be in shortly,” he says.
“Sure,” I say, offering a forced smile before turning away and heading back into the party. As I thread through the crowd, I can’t resist glancing over my shoulder one last time. He’s already back on his bloody phone, tapping away. My brows furrow as I try to figure out what’s going on with him, and by the time I turn back towards our guests, I spot James.
His height makes him stick out like a sore thumb. He’s standing with his parents chatting with my colleague Bridget. Bridget is famously single and clearly not wasting a second cosying up to James, and to be honest, I can hardly blame her. I watch as she leans in to speak to him, brushing her enormous cleavage against his arm.
She’s tall, with long, sleek blond hair that tumbles over her shoulders, and she’s wearing a red minidress that hugs her hourglass figure, showing off her toned legs. She’s in her mid-twenties and totally gorgeous—the kind of woman all the doctors in my office fawn over. But James doesn’t seem remotely interested, despite the opportunity for a good tit-wank. I know this because he’s fixated on me, as if he’s barely registered Bridget. His expression is cool and unbothered, but the way his eyes keep flitting from Lucas to me—and then back again—makes me feel a little unsettled, like he’s figured something out before I have.
I push the feeling aside, willing myself to let it go as I slip into the kitchen, joining Gemma, Anna, and Mason, Anna’s husband. They’ve been married for three years, and he is completely besotted with her, as he should be. She’s fantastic. “Mason! You made it!” I say, a big smile spreading across my face as I open my arms wide for a hug.
He grins—one of those infectious grins that lights up his whole face—and steps forward, scooping me up in a bear hug. “Of course I did! You think I’d miss this?” he says, pulling me close and lifting me just enough to make me laugh. When he sets me back down, he keeps his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length. His brown eyes twinkle as he takes me in. “You look amazing, April,” he says, “and happy.”
“Do I?” I ask, tilting my head, but his compliment makes me smile. “Thanks. I feel happy.”
“Good,” he replies with a wink, giving my arms a final squeeze before letting go.
Anna sidles up beside him, looping her arm through his with a playful smirk. “So smooth,” she says, resting her head dramatically on his shoulder. “That’s how he got me.”
Mason looks at her adoringly, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. I smile seeing them together. They make it look so easy.
“You’ve got a good one, Anna.”
“I know,” she says, grinning up at him.
Gemma scrunches her nose in mock disgust. “Ew. Go be cute somewhere else—you’re making me queasy.”
I sip my drink, staying quiet as Anna and Mason flirt and giggle. They’re so wrapped up in each other, it’s genuinely sweet. That’s what I want—what I’ve always wanted, really—a love that’s all-consuming. And the fact that I’ve found it with Lucas, that our life together is unfolding for real, fills me with so much hope. I really want this to be it .
Gemma catches my silence and narrows her eyes at me. “You good?” she asks, leaning in a little closer.
I nod, forcing a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
She gives me a sceptical look but doesn’t push—at least, not directly. “Lucas glued to his phone again?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
I wave it off, trying to sound casual. “It’s nothing. He’s fine, Gem.”
She raises her hands in surrender. “Alright, I won’t say another word about it. By the way, we saw Bridget making a move on James. She didn’t waste any time, did she?”
I swallow, keeping my tone as even as possible. “Yeah. She’s persistent, I’ll give her that.”
“Jealous?”
“Of course not,” I say too quickly, earning a smirk from her. Why on earth would she think I was jealous of James and Bridget? This is my engagement party with Lucas, for crying out loud. She taps a manicured nail against the rim of her glass. “He didn’t seem too interested, though. Did you notice the way he looked at you? It was like Bridget wasn’t even there.”
“Gem, really not appropriate,” I scold, shooting her a warning look.
“Fine, fine,” she says, rolling her eyes and setting her glass on the counter. The sharp crack of shattering glass snaps my attention back to the living room. Bridget stands frozen with a hand over her mouth as everyone stares. Her eyes lift to meet mine. “ I’m so sorry ,” she mouths.
I offer a reassuring smile and wave it off. “ I’ve got it ,” I mouth back, hoping to ease her embarrassment. I scan the courtyard and living room quickly, but there’s no sign of Lucas. What the fuck is he doing?
James sets his beer on the coffee table before making a beeline for the utility room. I follow him, watching as he pulls open cupboard doors. I step in, reaching up to open the top cupboard next to him where the dustpan and brush are kept, standing on my tiptoes to grab them.
“Here, let me,” he says. Warmth encases me as James steps in close, pressing his chest lightly against my back. His woodsy scent drifts between us, and with an easy stretch, he snags the items from the shelf above, brushing my arm in the process. I quickly pull my hands away and pivot to face him, but he doesn’t step away. Instead, he stays close, his eyes trained on mine.
My skin burns at his proximity, and, for reasons I can’t quite determine myself, I feel … nervous. The fact that he’s been watching me all evening has been distracting, not to mention hard to avoid, and being this close to him feels like a slow burn—a heat builds in the pit of my stomach that I can’t control. For a moment, I lose track of everything around us. It’s just me and his commanding presence, looming like a shadow.
Blinking, I shake myself out of my daze and try to focus on the task at hand. Clean the broken glass. Because being this close to James feels like standing on the edge of something I’m too afraid to acknowledge, let alone dive into.
“I’ve got it,” I say, holding out my hand for the items. “Thank you.”
“Where’s my brother?”
“I’m sure he’s just using the bathroom upstairs,” I say, attempting to sound unaffected.
“Mmm.” He opens his mouth to say something when?—
“Oh, James, there you are!” Caroline says as she sweeps into the room, startling us both. James exhales, as if he’s frustrated, before he steps back, creating a sliver of space between us. “Good, you’re helping,” Caroline adds with a bright smile. She steps forward, reaching for the dustpan and brush in his hands. “Here, honey, I’ll take care of the glass. You both go enjoy yourselves.” She nods towards me. “Go and spend time with that fiancé of yours.”
If I can find him .
James hesitates, handing the dustpan and brush to his mother. He doesn’t spare me a glance or utter a word before striding out. Caroline turns and follows close behind, her heels clicking against the floor as she hurries to the scene of the crime.
I need another drink.
Clearing my throat, I smooth my dress and make my way back to the party, pasting on a smile, pretending this night is exactly as I imagined. Even though it isn’t. Even though, deep down, it feels like everything is starting to unravel at the edges. I just can’t figure out why.