Plus One Is a Lucky Number

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Plus One Is a Lucky Number Page 15

by Teresa F. Morgan


  “I got to tell you two this,” Cassie slurred, beaming at them in their dancing embrace. She leaned in towards them, unsteady on her feet. “You know, you two look gorgeous together,” she said softly, winking at them.

  Sophie lifted her head off Adam’s chest, laughing off the compliment.

  “No, really, you do. Hopefully it’ll be your wedding next, right?”

  Adam tensed and Sophie giggled.

  “Cassie, we’ve only been together a few weeks! Don’t scare the poor bloke,” Sophie coolly replied. “Besides, you caught the bride’s bouquet, didn't you?”

  “Me? Get married?” Cassie snorted with laughter. “Got to find someone crazy enough first!” She looked at the man she was dancing with, who shown a brief worried expression, and shook her head at him. “Anyway, where’d you slope off to when it was being thrown?”

  Sophie shrugged. “I think I must have been powdering my nose.”

  “Well, you missed a battle for the bouquet, but I won it!”

  Sophie laughed, shaking her head and Cassie was gone, dragging the poor soul with her around the dance floor.

  “She's mad, I tell you,” Sophie said. “She was kidding, you know that? It’s your smile; it blinds her.” Adam frowned. “I mean, you know, you’re the one she thinks is gorgeous. If she knew the truth,” Sophie chuckled as she spoke, “she’d realise we’re like chalk and cheese.” He noticed she wouldn't catch his eye, her cheeks were flushed.

  Adam faked a chuckle as Sophie rested her head back on his shoulder, and they continued to dance to the music, slowly turning. He liked the feeling of her in his arms.

  Were they, really, chalk and cheese? If anything, they had got on famously.

  Then she stopped their dance and looked up at him. Her brown eyes, like dark chocolate, staring at him, sent warmth to his bones. She whispered softly, “Thank you, Adam. For everything.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Sophie stepped out of the elevator, one arm linked around Adam‘s, her other hand holding a half-empty bottle of champagne. She’d snagged the bottle from the table after the reception had ended, but now wondered if it was a good idea. She was already drunk. Not scrape-her-off-the-floor drunk, but with that warm fuzzy feeling, giving her a new confidence.

  The corridor was empty, so she could have released her hold on Adam, but she quite liked the support he provided. His strength. It might be the last opportunity she got to be close with him.

  Now there’s the champagne talking.

  “I told Cassie she should come and see you in Surrey,” Adam said.

  “Oh, Adam.”

  “What? I got the impression she’d never visited you,” he said. “You could introduce her to James.”

  “How do you mean? James is happy with Kate. You know that.”

  “Yes, yes, sorry, of course.” Adam sighed. “Still trying to get used to James all loved up with Kate.”

  “They’ve been seeing each other nearly a year now; he’s going to propose on her birthday.”

  “Is he?”

  “Yes! Hasn’t he told you?” Sophie wondered if she’d been told in confidence and had now betrayed James.

  “Probably knew I would comment, or talk him out of it.” He laughed.

  “Why would you do that?”

  Adam cleared his throat. “I’m joking. Though, didn’t realise they were that serious. Probably explains … ”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Nothing.”

  Sophie frowned, then grumbled. “Anyway, why would you want to encourage Cassie to come visit me? I’ve been trying to put her off.”

  “Don’t you want to see her?”

  “Yes, of course, I do, but … what about us? She’d be expecting to see you. If we went out, it would be another night of pretence, and to Cassie, who I hate lying to already.” Though the way she felt at this moment, it wouldn’t be a charade for her. The line was blurring. Even holding onto him now - she was doing it because she wanted to. The kiss on the dance floor had been the same. “And what about you? Would you be prepared to pretend again?”

  He hesitated, fumbling in his jacket pocket, not quite meeting her eye. Was he having doubts? Would he say he didn’t want their relationship to be a lie? Maybe she should swig the champagne and numb the pain now.

  “Adam?”

  “Yeah, yeah, of course. I made you a promise,” he replied.

  “I’m thinking more short term,” Sophie added quickly, sensing the awkwardness. No, he probably doesn’t want to do this anymore. “If she turns up in a month or something, well … well, I’m not sure what excuse I’m going to make yet to end our relationship – hypothetically.”

  Adam just kept his lips pursed and nodded.

  How was she going to end this relationship to her friends and family - without looking like a fool? With another lie, of course.

  They reached their room and Sophie leaned tiredly against the wall, waiting as Adam got the key card from his jacket pocket. They both heard voices coming along the corridor, so Adam leaned in towards Sophie, placing his forehead against hers, their noses almost touching. To a bystander, a playful loving embrace.

  She slid her free arm around him, under his jacket, savouring the feeling of his physical presence. He was so warm, and firm. She savoured the subtle scent of his aftershave which still lingered around his throat. Deep inside she had an urge to kiss him, press her body against his, but she stopped herself. Did he want it too? His breath, warm on her cheek, and her own nerves made her heart race as they both stared into one another’s eyes. Both laughed nervously. The champagne.

  She fought her nerves and ever so gently, she pressed her lips against his. Oh, what the hell? And to her delight he kissed her back. For the first time in a very long time, Sophie felt aroused, alive. There was nothing more enjoyable than kissing this man, except maybe one thing … something she hadn’t done in a while, too afraid to try again. She wanted to make love to Adam. Only Adam.

  He released her from the kiss. She no longer cared who the voices belonged to. She took no notice as the people passed them by. He slid the key card down the slot, it beeped and he opened the door. Taking the champagne bottle from her, he tugged at her hand, and once inside, kicked the door closed with his heel. He kissed her again, the champagne forgotten on the dressing table. He was intent and sexy, focussing only on her.

  Between hot kisses and gentle moans, Sophie whispered, “Pins … please … out of my hair … ” She kicked off her shoes, instantly shortening three inches, sighing with relief. He turned her around, gently removing the pins, kissing her neck and bare back revealed by her dress.

  Her hair soon tumbled down her back and on to her shoulders, and she felt relief that her hair was no longer being tightly held in place. His hand swept her curls aside and he pressed his lips to her flesh. She turned, her mouth finding his.

  Then, skilful hands unzipped her dress, letting it fall to the floor. Feeling inadequate, she fumbled with the buttons of Adam’s shirt as he enticed her towards the bed.

  Her strapless bra released and thrown aside, the back of her knees touched the bed, and she tumbled back onto it, as Adam moved slowly over her, still kissing, nibbling, licking. He was an expert in this field; she wanted to beg him take her there and then, the liquid hot pulse deep in her belly, urgent. Need to make this last, Sophie. He was attentive, unlike Simon, who had always been urgent, lustful.

  Adam’s lips on hers, the kiss became more passionate, heated, tongues probing, arousing all her senses. At last, blindly, she had his shirt undone and off, his flesh against hers. She heard the flick of his buckle as he started undoing the belt to his trousers, though his mouth never left hers.

  He broke from the kiss, moving down her neck, running his tongue along her collarbone, her nipples hardening under the hotness of his mouth. Then, down to her navel, making her stomach pull in. She moaned as Adam’s tongue licked along the top of her satin underwear, reminding her again this wasn’t Simon. Simon ne
ver teased, never took such care or time.

  “Adam … ” She gasped. His hands moved over the soft fabric and he looked her straight in the eye. She lifted her hips to aid the removal. Briefly, she worried she’d be no good at this, she’d disappoint him. “Be gentle.”

  He stared as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. As if touching hot coals, he snapped his hands away.

  “Shit, what are we doing? We can’t do this!” he said, quickly pulling away from her.

  Frantic, he grabbed his shirt from off the floor and tossed it at her. She fumbled to put it on, suddenly ashamed of her body. Her throat tightened, tears stinging her eyes. Mustn’t cry. Mustn’t cry. What have I done wrong? Her body still buzzed with need but it was quickly coming down with cold realisation.

  As if he’d seen her mortified expression he was quickly on the bed, cupping her face. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You deserve better, Sophie. I made a promise to James.”

  What promise to James? Damn, James!

  She recoiled, leaping off the bed, wrapping his shirt around her. Unthinking, she grabbed the champagne bottle and rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her and locking it.

  ***

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  What had he been thinking? Too much champagne, that’s what! Adam paced the hotel room. He’d gone into autopilot outside in the hallway – the way she’d kissed him, his brain had dropped to his trousers. He hadn’t seen Sophie, the real Sophie; he’d seen a beautiful woman he must seduce. He’d treated her like any other woman he dated. Wine, dine, then bed. And he’d nearly completed the task too. Her reminder, that she’d been hurt before, stopped him in his tracks, slamming him into a brick wall.

  What a mess. What a fucking mess.

  He found a T-shirt and slung it on, his brain slowly moving back inside his skull. Taking a deep breath, regaining composure, he knocked on the bathroom door.

  “Sophie, please come out.” He tried the handle – locked. “I’m sorry.” Fuck. What made me so stupid?

  It wasn’t as though he didn’t want to make love to Sophie, because, oh yes, he did. But she’d see it for more than it was … what it could be … He couldn’t commit. Just couldn’t. She’d hate him in the end.

  She probably hates you now.

  “Leave me alone,” she shouted through the door.

  He noticed the bathroom lock had a safety feature on the outside. Even though he knew he should respect her wishes, he couldn’t leave her in there to stew. He had to talk to her. He had to stop her pouring more champagne down her throat. Knowing he was committing a great wrong, he dug in his pocket, found a pound coin, stuck it into the slot and turned, yanking the handle at the same time.

  Sophie, sitting on the toilet seat, was drinking from the champagne bottle, black mascara-stained tears streaming down her face. She stood instantly, startled by Adam’s entrance. She’d buttoned the shirt but it still revealed her slender legs.

  “Go away,” she snapped, scowling.

  “Sophie, please, let me explain.”

  “What did I do? What did I do?” she hissed. A new flood of tears streamed her cheeks and Adam felt the wrench of guilt he deserved. He rushed forward, took her in his arms, relieved his brain didn’t react to touching her.

  “You did absolutely nothing wrong. Nothing. Oh, God, I’m so sorry.”

  She went to drink more from the bottle, but he snatched it, pouring the rest of the contents – which was not much – down the sink, leaving the bottle dumped there upside down. “You don’t need any more to drink, either. We’ve both had too much.”

  “You speak for yourself. I think I need to be unconscious.”

  “Sophie, please forgive me. I should never have … misled you.”

  “Why did you? Am I not your type of woman?”

  “Sophie, you are better than my type,” Adam said, running both hands through his hair. “I stopped myself because I want us to remain friends. Having sex will complicate things. I don’t want us complicated.”

  “Our relationship is a lie - can’t get more complicated than that.”

  “Our friendship is not a lie.” He wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, then kissed her nose.

  “James is my friend and he does not kiss me on the nose,” she said coldly, glaring up at him.

  Adam removed his hands from her face. “Right. The line is a bit blurry. We have had a lot to drink.” Sophie’s expression remained grim. For a moment they were silent. “Please … I’m sorry. You did nothing wrong.”

  She took a deep breath.

  Seeing her calming, he said tenderly, “Let’s go to bed – as friends. I’ll even sleep on the sofa.”

  Sophie sighed. “There’s no need.” She wiped her face as she glanced in the mirror. “Just let me wash off my make-up.”

  Adam left the bathroom, closing the door behind him, and walked over to the wardrobe to hang his clothes up – what clothes he had. Sophie was still wearing his shirt. He picked up her bridesmaid dress from the floor where it had dropped … Really, really need your head examined. James will kill you if he learns about this. He got a hanger out of the wardrobe and put the dress away, smelling the floral aroma of Sophie’s fragrance as he did so.

  If I’ve fucked this friendship up with Sophie I’ll never forgive myself.

  Adam’s head buzzed, angry at himself. He turned Sophie’s bedside lamp on, turning off the rest of the lights in the room before getting into bed. It gave enough glow in the room, but his eyes were starting to tire of the bright light. It had been a long day.

  He decided not to strip off his T-shirt, instead sinking down in the bed, he hauled the covers up around him. He watched the bathroom door.

  What a day. What a weekend. If he'd known the whole truth he doubted he'd have come. Then again, part of him was glad he had. Sophie really shouldn't have come to this wedding on her own with the shit that had been thrown at her. Simon. Zoe. Me.

  He thought of their last kiss on the dance floor, then just now in the bedroom. He’d been enjoying it more than he should have, otherwise would he have seduced her like that? He didn’t want to hurt Sophie, didn’t want her thinking he wanted a relationship with her.

  He did but it would end in tears. Just like tonight.

  Seeing that fiery side of her this evening, as she’d slapped Simon had revealed she wasn’t really a pushover. She’d probably been trying to keep patient with him for Natalie and Gareth’s sake. But it had given Adam a fantasy in his head, arguing with Sophie, seeing her riled – feisty and sexy, and then making up …

  One you need to squash. You almost got yourself into some really hot water tonight.

  Adam rubbed his face. He should turn over and go to sleep, but Sophie had been in the bathroom a long time now. He hoped she wasn’t stirring things over. It really wasn’t her fault.

  Should he knock, check she was okay?

  Luckily, tomorrow should be easier going for both of them. They needed a breather. Sure, at breakfast he’d have to whisper a few sweet nothings, hold her hand and make little loving gestures. But he didn’t think he was going to get an excuse to kiss her again, not like that. Probably for the best, all things considered.

  They’d be back to normal, soon.

  What was normal? Before this weekend, he had hardly known her. He’d seen her occasionally at work, but had never taken any interest in her, probably said all of two words to her in the whole time she’d been working for the company. That would change.

  Or would it be best to go back to the way it was?

  But James was their mutual friend. They were going to see more of each other. He didn’t want to cut her out of his life. They’d become good friends – hadn’t they? And how good would that look if he ignored her?

  But was it too risky keeping her close? He didn’t think he could offer her what she deserved. He worked long hours, longer soon. He remembered his mother, waiting for his father, with a dinner in the oven, then eating alone after she’d
sent Adam to bed. He didn’t want that for Sophie. But look what almost happened in this bedroom. Would he be able to remain controlled around her?

  Visions of her lying on this bed, kissing her soft breasts, the sensation of her firm nipples on his tongue … All the kisses, feelings he should have savoured … Brain moving south, Adam! Think of something else.

  He started to worry. What’s taking her so long? Could she be sick? Or dwelling on what had just happened?

  As soon as he decided he'd give her five more minutes, the bathroom door opened. Sophie emerged, still in his shirt, and got into her side of the bed. She sniffed.

  “You okay? Really?” he asked. He wanted to reach out and touch her.

  “I’m fine.” She remained sitting up, but pulled the covers towards her.

  “You don’t sound fine.”

  “It’s nothing.” She wiped her hand across her cheek. “Go to sleep.”

  Adam sat up. He hadn't liked her tone; she was still upset and he knew it was his fault. “What is it, Sophie? Tell me.”

  She puffed the pillows, but he continued to look at her until she answered. “It’s going to sound stupid.”

  “Try me. I listen to James a lot,” he said playfully. Sophie let out a short laugh, but it died quickly.

  “It’s just … and this is probably the alcohol talking,” she sounded as if she wasn’t quite convinced herself, “but I was thinking about Simon.”

  “Don’t waste your time on him,” he responded sharply. Shit, maybe he should have made love to her and obliterated all thoughts of that arsehole.

  “I know, I know,” Sophie said, flopping deeper into the bed. “He was my first – and sort of my last. He’s my only serious relationship.” She frowned. “Is he the best I can do?”

  In all her life had she only ever loved Simon? He couldn’t talk. How many women had he fallen in love with? Maybe one … none. None. He moved closer, brushing her hair, unable to resist touching her any longer.

  “Of course you can do better than Simon.”

 

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