“You might be right,” James said, softening with an involuntary grin.
“Gee, ya think?” I shot back, smacking him upside the head with a pillow.
He grinned again and adorably raked his wet hair away from his eyes before growing abruptly pensive once more. “I was in a deep depression when I left the hospital. I couldn’t walk, couldn’t sleep. I was tired of being indoors, tired of the pain. I had grown quite fond of my pain medication, but Nick was quick to throw all that away, for my own good. He said I was given a second chance at life and I had to make the most of it.” He bowed his head, lacing his fingers slowly together as he remembered. “One thing I could do was swim,” he said, the cold bitterness melting slowly, allowing the warm glow to return to his eyes. “The first time we went out on the lake, Nick didn’t tell me what he planned to do. We took my father’s boat to the deepest part and stayed there for a while, just listening to music, wasting time. When Nick ordered me into the water, I thought he’d gone mad. We argued about it, shouting at the top of our lungs, but then he grabbed me by the collar and threw me over the side.”
“He what?” I spat.
James shrugged. “What can I say? He’s a good friend.”
Okay, either the boy is delusional, or we have very different definitions of the word. I’m pretty sure it’s the former.
“He forced me to care about something again,” he continued, correctly interpreting the incredulous look on my face. “He pulled me out of my own head. He even built the pool for me,” he said, gesturing to the roof with a casual hand. “It was waiting for me when I got back to London.”
It was only then that I realized he was still in a towel, dripping a small but steady puddle onto the designer couch. My gaze drifted over his body, then to his leg again. “Can I touch it?”
My eyes snapped shut in humiliation as soon as the stupid question left my lips. I felt only worse when I opened them a second later and saw James staring at me with a look of disbelief.
“What are you, six, little girl?” he kidded.
Choosing to embrace the stereotype, I shrugged and jutted my chin out, donning an arrogant smirk. “What? You scared?”
“Scarred maybe but not scared.” James threw his head back and boomed a laugh, the laugh of a man who never scared easily. He cocked his eyebrows in an adorable invitation and stretched his leg out on the antique coffee table.
I flashed another grin and reached out a tentative hand. With a delicate finger, I stroked the length of the scar, curling around his knee in that white crescent moon. The skin was smooth and taut, just like the rest of his body. If not for the paleness, I never would have known it was there. I moved my hand slowly, thoughtfully, following every curve and arch with my eyes. Then, with incredible care, I leaned down and pressed my lips against it in a gentle kiss.
He released a silent gasp as his entire body stiffened in surprise. His lips parted, but no sound came out. He just sat there, holding his breath, still as a statue.
When I finally straightened my back, James was a different man. Some kind of change had overtaken him, a change I didn’t understand and was sure he didn’t either. James Cross, who could never sit still, was frozen in place, staring at me with an expression I’d never seen on any person’s face before.
“Della, I—”
A sudden burst of noise shattered the quiet, followed almost immediately by a violent vibration as my phone sprang to life on the couch between us. We looked down at the same time, then looked back up at each other.
“I’m sorry. What was that?” I asked breathlessly. “What were you going to—”
Another explosion occurred, even louder than the first.
My eyes snapped shut as James looked toward the balcony.
When he turned back a second later, whatever strange feeling had caught him in its grasp was firmly tucked away again. “Do you need to get that?” he asked.
“Do you need to go?”
Every part of me ached to say no, but on a weekday morning, it wasn’t really up to me. I suddenly regretted charging my phone the night before, almost more than I’d ever regretted anything in my life.
“Yes, I’m sorry.” I grimaced apologetically and reached down to grab it. “It’s my ringtone for work, and I can’t just—”
James held up his hands and gave me an easy smile. “I completely understand. I need to get going anyway.”
We both stood, feeling abruptly awkward about the rather strange end to our rather perfect night together. Our eyes deliberately retreated to opposite sides of the room as we both promptly busied ourselves with pouring coffee into thermoses and getting dressed to leave.
I was just about to call out to him by the door when he rounded the corner and met me by the elevators. Unlike me, he’d chosen casual attire for the day, yet he still managed to pull off dapper and sexy, like some sort of underwear model on holiday from work.
“I’m glad you came over.” He leaned down and gave me a swift but sweet kiss on the cheek, followed by a twinkling smile. “I’m even gladder that you stayed.”
“Me too.”
He pulled me closer and our lips met. I loved how he cradled my face in his hands. Heat spread across my entire body. I could feel the electric current and I knew the chemistry was there.