Not Looking For Love: Episode 2 by Bourne Lena

Author:Bourne, Lena [Bourne, Lena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-10-27T07:00:00+00:00

I don't know when I dozed off, but someone's shaking my shoulder now. "Gail, what are you doing here?"

I rub the sleep from my eyes. Scott's got his own phone on and the light spills over his face like moonlight.

I rise and take a weightless step toward him to rest my head on his chest. He's got his jacket zipped up, but his warmth is coming through the cool fabric, and the clean scent of rain mixes with his cologne, twisting my stomach in anticipation.

"I thought we could get to know each other better, if you still want to," I mumble into his chest.

His breath crackles in his chest. He wraps his arm around me and leads me to the door, digging in his pocket for the keys.

He lets go of me since we can't both fit through the door, pushing me gently forward with his hand on my lower back.

Once inside, he turns on the light and the sudden brightness pierces my eyes, making them tear up. He takes off his jacket and his smell hits me harder. But I could just lean against him tonight, I don't want anything more.

He's still just staring at me, like he's not even sure I'm really there. I need him to be sure, so I can be too.

"Do you want me to leave?" I ask.

"Honestly?" he asks, his eyes narrowed, black as pitch.

"Yes," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, because I don't want him to send me away.

"No, I don't want you to leave. But I'm a little afraid of what will happen if you stay," he says and smiles, but it doesn't really reach his eyes.

"I won't…I just want to stay here for a little bit."

"OK," he says, and brushes past me. I follow him into the living room. Everything still looks the same, except there are two piles of neatly folded laundry on the kitchen table, making the room smell like fabric softener. He digs in one of the piles, making it topple over.

"You should get out of those wet clothes," he says, handing me a grey sweatshirt.

"Can I shower first?" I ask. I'm shivering from my wet clothes, my skin icy.

He shrugs. "I wouldn't. Hot water's gonna make that bruise even worse."

I must look hideous. I touch my nose gingerly, but pain still explodes in my head.

"Don't touch it. Change."

I finally take the sweatshirt he's still holding out for me, and he walks into the kitchen.

Sliding off my trench coat, I notice the bloodstain. Likely it'll never come off. Maybe I should go into the bathroom to change, but it's a fleeting sort of idea, distant. I toss the coat over one of the chairs and pull my shirt off. Scott turns back to me just as I free my head.

His gaze travels up my stomach, over my breasts and settles on my neck. His lips are slightly parted and glistening. It's like he's touching me with his eyes, warmth and tingles crackling all over me. I'm not cold anymore, never would be again if he always looked at me that way.

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