eyes. The smile on her face was gone, replaced by a cool look.
"I thought you were Emma and had forgotten your keys again. If you're looking for Matt, he's not here."
He grinned at her; he couldn't help it, remembering how she'd been that night. Okay, so she had been drunk, but she had still kissed him, even giggled at him. But every time they were alone, she became this ice queen, except he knew it was fake. He just didn't know why yet.
"Hi, Jess. I'm good, thanks for asking. How are you?" She didn't answer him unless he counted the face she pulled at him. "I'm not looking for Matt, I know, he's not here. He asked me to come round, though." Knowing she wouldn't like his explanation, or ask him to come in, he squeezed past her into the house and towards the kitchen.
***
Jess closed the front door and rested her forehead against the cool wood. What was he doing here? And what was Matt playing at? And why could she only focus on how he had looked at her in her vision when he'd reached for her, his voice as he told her he would protect her. She took a deep breath. What if it was him she needed protecting from? He was dangerous—to her, anyway. Dark and dangerous, with his short, almost-black hair and slate-like eyes. Except her body didn't respond like he was dangerous. No, it seemed to be far too excited by the barely concealed muscles beneath the stretched T-shirt he wore.
Gently, she hit her forehead against the door, again and again. Then she straightened her spine, chin raised—she could do this. She would do this, she told herself, as she pulled the belt tight around her waist and headed into the kitchen.
Rob was leaning against the cupboards, legs crossed at the ankles, coffee cup in hand. She went to pick up her own cup and said, "Please, make yourself at home."
"Thanks."
He gave her that grin. The one that made her want to kiss him until she couldn't remember who she was. Either that or slap the grin right off his face. And she hated violence. She moved so the dining table was between them and felt the tightness in her shoulders ease a little. "Why are you here?"
His smile faded and, for one fleeting moment, he looked serious—worried even, going by the lines around his mouth. But then it was gone, replaced by his usual cocky grin. "Matt told me you had a dream about me," he said, lifting and then lowering his eyebrows suggestively.
Oh, my God. She was going to kill Matt. She could feel the burn in her cheeks and wished the ground would just open and swallow her whole. Placing her cup on the table she turned her back on him, starting for the stairs to escape from him when he grabbed her arm.
"Jess, I'm sorry. Matt told me it was about James. I know you think of me as a brother too, and I'll do anything I can to look out for you."
Jess laughed, and it sounded bitter to her own ears. "God, if you believe I think of you like a brother, you couldn't be further from the truth. Now, let me go." His hand dropped, as did his expression, but she ran upstairs. She knew she'd hurt him, but she just needed to get away from him. From his restraining hold. She slammed the bedroom door behind her and slid down it, her shaky legs giving way. This was why she couldn't be alone with him. He confused her, her brain and body pulling in two very different directions, and she didn't know what to do about it.
CHAPTER THREE
Jess didn't know how long she had been in her bedroom when she heard the front door slam. Had he left? She cracked open her door and pressed her ear to the gap.
"Oh, you made me jump. Jess didn't mention she'd asked you to come round."
"She didn't."
Jess closed the door again, but she knew she'd have to go down now; she couldn't leave Emma alone with Rob. She brushed her hands down her blouse, pulling it across her hips. Checked her makeup and teeth in the mirror, then tightened her ponytail. Standing straight, she yanked open the door and headed down the stairs.
"You should come with us,"
"I thought you were Emma and had forgotten your keys again. If you're looking for Matt, he's not here."
He grinned at her; he couldn't help it, remembering how she'd been that night. Okay, so she had been drunk, but she had still kissed him, even giggled at him. But every time they were alone, she became this ice queen, except he knew it was fake. He just didn't know why yet.
"Hi, Jess. I'm good, thanks for asking. How are you?" She didn't answer him unless he counted the face she pulled at him. "I'm not looking for Matt, I know, he's not here. He asked me to come round, though." Knowing she wouldn't like his explanation, or ask him to come in, he squeezed past her into the house and towards the kitchen.
***
Jess closed the front door and rested her forehead against the cool wood. What was he doing here? And what was Matt playing at? And why could she only focus on how he had looked at her in her vision when he'd reached for her, his voice as he told her he would protect her. She took a deep breath. What if it was him she needed protecting from? He was dangerous—to her, anyway. Dark and dangerous, with his short, almost-black hair and slate-like eyes. Except her body didn't respond like he was dangerous. No, it seemed to be far too excited by the barely concealed muscles beneath the stretched T-shirt he wore.
Gently, she hit her forehead against the door, again and again. Then she straightened her spine, chin raised—she could do this. She would do this, she told herself, as she pulled the belt tight around her waist and headed into the kitchen.
Rob was leaning against the cupboards, legs crossed at the ankles, coffee cup in hand. She went to pick up her own cup and said, "Please, make yourself at home."
"Thanks."
He gave her that grin. The one that made her want to kiss him until she couldn't remember who she was. Either that or slap the grin right off his face. And she hated violence. She moved so the dining table was between them and felt the tightness in her shoulders ease a little. "Why are you here?"
His smile faded and, for one fleeting moment, he looked serious—worried even, going by the lines around his mouth. But then it was gone, replaced by his usual cocky grin. "Matt told me you had a dream about me," he said, lifting and then lowering his eyebrows suggestively.
Oh, my God. She was going to kill Matt. She could feel the burn in her cheeks and wished the ground would just open and swallow her whole. Placing her cup on the table she turned her back on him, starting for the stairs to escape from him when he grabbed her arm.
"Jess, I'm sorry. Matt told me it was about James. I know you think of me as a brother too, and I'll do anything I can to look out for you."
Jess laughed, and it sounded bitter to her own ears. "God, if you believe I think of you like a brother, you couldn't be further from the truth. Now, let me go." His hand dropped, as did his expression, but she ran upstairs. She knew she'd hurt him, but she just needed to get away from him. From his restraining hold. She slammed the bedroom door behind her and slid down it, her shaky legs giving way. This was why she couldn't be alone with him. He confused her, her brain and body pulling in two very different directions, and she didn't know what to do about it.
CHAPTER THREE
Jess didn't know how long she had been in her bedroom when she heard the front door slam. Had he left? She cracked open her door and pressed her ear to the gap.
"Oh, you made me jump. Jess didn't mention she'd asked you to come round."
"She didn't."
Jess closed the door again, but she knew she'd have to go down now; she couldn't leave Emma alone with Rob. She brushed her hands down her blouse, pulling it across her hips. Checked her makeup and teeth in the mirror, then tightened her ponytail. Standing straight, she yanked open the door and headed down the stairs.
"You should come with us,"
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