Chapter 22
Leesa
‘What did you say?’ I spluttered.
Yikes, I’d got caught up in that low scrape of his voice over my senses and forgotten what was going on here for a moment – until he’d said the word ‘kiss’ and I remembered he was mocking me – he had to be mocking me. I needed oxygen to my brain – fast.
Thankfully, he snapped back so swiftly the air rushed in after him. He was off the bed in a heartbeat, knocking the table as he escaped whatever prank he’d been trying to pull on me, asking for that kiss. The yoghurt teetered again and he lunged for it, sending my phone sliding towards the floor.
Proving his lightning-fast reflexes, he managed to stop that falling, but he ended up sprawled on the bed, frantically propping himself up so he didn’t crush me.
He smelled pleasant: something soapy and not overly tangy.
His breath was on my neck, setting off the nerves in my skin like LED warning lights blinking on all at once.
I should tell him to get off me. Another second and he’d realise his proximity was affecting me, despite… everything about him that I resented. But he got there first, hauling himself up, a concertina scowl on his forehead.
‘Here’s your ph— Shit, you’ve got yoghurt all over your—’
Hurrying to the wheeled table of equipment in one corner, he banged around for a minute before returning with a roll of toilet paper. But he only succeeded in rubbing the stuff all over my chest, going increasingly pale as he did so.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘I didn’t mean for it to turn out like this.’
What did he mean? He’d made some kind of plan for this meeting? Or was the ‘Go Leesa’ sign part of an elaborate set-up? I wouldn’t have been surprised.
‘Is someone filming this or something?’
He reared back. ‘No!’
‘You can see why I find that hard to believe. You suggested we kiss and now I’m smeared in blueberry yoghurt. If one of the guys pops out with a camera right now, I’ll—’
‘I meant it!’ he blurted out. It took me a second to realise he was talking about the kiss and then a blush seeped up my throat like wildfire.
He tugged at his hair with an agitated hand, looking at the door, the ceiling – anywhere but at me.
‘I mean, now we’re not on the same team any more, I thought we could… y’know.’
Apparently, he wanted a response – or maybe for me to finish that sentence.
When I opened my mouth, the only thing that came out was a gurgled, ‘Urgh.’