by Hart, Emma
“I mean it when I say I’ll grab you by the balls and kick you out.”
“You’ll grab me by the balls? I might like that.”
I slapped my hand against the island. “Stop that!”
“I can’t help it. If I knew winding you up was this fun, I’d have chatted you up months ago.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “If you’re proposing that we sleep together, you’re going about it the wrong way.”
“Actually, I was trying to goad you into proposing it so my reputation as a gentleman remains intact.”
“Gentlemen don’t send dirty text messages to strangers.”
“Ah, but I didn’t.” His grin was lopsided. “I was sending them to you.”
“But you didn’t know that at the time.”
“Semantics.”
“Are you aware this conversation is going absolutely nowhere?”
“I am. I’m also aware that, by your own admission, there’s plenty of other things you could be doing with your mouth right now.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re right. I could be eating.”
He paused, then burst out laughing. “That wasn’t what I was going for.”
“I know exactly what you were going for.” I laughed with him. “But I’m not playing those games with you. This is awkward enough without us actually having sex.”
“I disagree.”
“What if it’s bad?” I held out my hands. “What if it’s only bad for one of us? We see each other almost daily.”
“Ah, yes, those long, romantic walks to the post box.”
“What in God’s name is the post box?”
“Where the post goes.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The mailbox,” he said wryly. “It’s a post box in the UK.”
I did a double take. “Why would you call the mailbox a post box?”
“Because the post box is where the post goes.” Isaac stopped. “You’re looking at me like I’m reading you a Chinese takeaway menu in French.”
“What’s a takeaway?”
He brought his hands to his head and massaged his temples, briefly shutting his eyes. “I knew I should have gone back to England.”
“Seriously. What’s a takeaway?”
“Takeout, Hannah. It’s what you weirdos call takeout.”
“I take offense at being called a weirdo. You’re the weird one. You’re in America. Speak American.”
“Why the bloody hell would I speak American? The language is called English!”
“Because American English,” I said. “Isn’t that obvious?”
“You lose an argument the moment you say English,” he replied, shaking his head. “You can’t argue with an English person about the English language.”
“I don’t know how to talk to you.” I shook my head just like he had and stood up. “It’s like running in circles all the time.”
Isaac grinned. “It’s like that talking to you, too.”
I rolled my eyes and nudged him out of the way so I could get to the wine in the fridge. “I think we’re done here.”
“Do you?”
“I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“I was being sarcastic, Hannah.”
“I know. I chose to ignore it. You’re not very good at it.” I pulled a wine glass from the cupboard. “Do you want one?”
With a nod, he said, “I’m not very good at sarcasm? Do you have much experience with British people? We created sarcasm.”
“This town isn’t exactly full of Brits,” I replied, pouring the two glasses of wine. I screwed the cap back on the bottle and set it down, then handed Isaac his.
I probably hadn’t thought this through very well.
Drinking was why I was in this mess in the first place.
Goddammit.
I nodded for him to follow me through into the living room and took a seat on my sofa. Isaac took the armchair, settling himself in and adjusting the collar of his dark blue shirt.
He really was unfairly handsome. The shirt played off his lightly tanned skin to perfection, illuminating his eyes in a way I could only dream of with makeup.
Men really did have it easy.
I dragged my gaze away from his sculpted, stubbled jaw, and into the middle of my glass. It was actually preferable to looking at him—I wasn’t imagining kissing him if wasn’t looking at him.
In theory.
What would it be like to kiss him?
He had deliciously full lips that just looked so soft—the kind of soft I’d have to apply three lashings of Chapstick to make mine look half as good.
Ugh.
Men had it easy; women had it rough.
I scratched my boob as discreetly as possible and sipped my wine. I just wanted this to end—I had no idea what he was going to suggest now that we’d talked an awful lot about not a lot at all.
I couldn’t believe he’d brought up actually having sex. I never thought that would be something he’d suggest. I never thought he’d actually be attracted to me, because he’d only ever been my neighbor.
Just that. Nothing more. In fact, he’d only ever been as polite to me as he’d been to Mrs. Keighley, my other neighbor.
The problem? I liked talking to him. It was fun—he was fun. I’d laughed more in the last twenty minutes than I had all day, and that was what scared me.
Catching feelings for your hot, British neighbor you’d been sexting for the past few days didn’t exactly scream great idea!
I hid a sigh in a sip of wine and put the glass on the coffee table. I wasn’t lying when I said I had no idea how to talk to Isaac. I never had, and I was as sure as shit I never would.
Especially right now.
I wasn’t exactly the most confident person in the world. I never had been and it was the kind of thing I doubted I ever would be. Unfortunately, I was faced with a situation where I had to have some balls in order to handle it.
I was a little short on balls.
The cat had plenty—both attached to him and under the sofa, but I didn’t have those.
Either. None attached and none under the sofa.
That I knew of.
“You’re doing a good job of ignoring me,” Isaac said after several minutes of silence. “Is there a reason for it?”
I huffed and looked at him. “What do you think? I’ve not exactly been secretive about the fact I don’t want to discuss the whole texting thing.”
He groaned. “Not this again. Hannah, I told you; all you have to do is tell me you’re not attracted to me and it all goes away.”
“But I can’t do that,” I admitted. “I am attracted to you. I’d have to be fucking insane not to be. I wish I wasn’t, believe me.”
His lips twitched. “So what’s the problem?”
“We’ve been over this. I’m not going to repeat myself a thousand times.”
Isaac held up his hands. “Okay. I respect that.”
“You do?”
“What? Do you think I’m going to come over there and kiss the shit out of you just to make you want to sleep with me?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Do you want me to?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Isaac picked up his wine glass from the table and finished it, then put it back down. “When you’re ready to talk about this—both the texts and our mutual attraction, let me know.”
I bit the inside of my cheek as he got up and left the living room, pausing in the doorway to bend down to give Lucifer some attention.
His ass stretched against his black pants.
It was really annoying.
He straightened up and walked to the front door. I knew I should have stood up and called for him, maybe followed him out to finish the conversation, but I didn’t know what to say.
I didn’t think there was anything I could say.
Nothing I wanted to say right now, at least.
I picked up my glass and cradled it to my chest. My front door opened then closed, leaving me sitting in silence.
I closed my lips around the rim of my glass and sat there, staring at the door he’d just walked through.
Had I made a terrible decision?
What would one time hurt?
Would it hurt?
Was it worth the risk?
I didn’t know. Would I ever know?
It wasn’t this complicated in the movies.
I put my wine glass down and got up, tossing the closest cushion out of my way. I almost tripped over Lucifer on my way to the front door, but it wasn’t the kitten that stopped me.
It was the fact that Isaac was standing in front of my door, inside my house.
“What the—” I froze. “I thought you left!”
“I thought you might follow me.”
“What if I hadn’t? How would you have left?”
“Hidden until you went to bed and climbed out the window?” He smirked, his eyes sparkling with amusement.
I gave him a flat look. “Very funny. Why are you still here?”
“Like I said, I thought you might follow me.” He stepped away from the door, toward me, and approached me slowly. “I took a bit of a risk.”
“I’ll say.”
“Think about it, Hannah.”
“Think about it?”
“One night.” He reached over and ran his thumb along the curve of my jaw. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world, and I can tell you this—it wouldn’t be bad. For me or for you.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You don’t know that for sure.”
Isaac swept his hand down to cup my chin and closed the remaining distance between us. Just when I thought he was going to speak, he lowered his face and touched his lips to mine.
Fireworks exploded across my skin at the touch. It was so unexpected, so unreal, that all I could do was stand in front of him and be kissed. I was completely at this mercy in this moment, even more so when he grabbed my hip and pulled my body flush against his.
I settled my hands on his toned arms and leaned into the kiss. It wasn’t like I could do anything else—my brain wasn’t firing on any cylinders, never mind all of them. I was consumed by the sensation of his full lips moving across mine, and it took me longer than I cared to admit to realize I was kissing him right back.
His lips swept over mine with an ease of a man who knew what he was doing, but the firmness of someone who wanted to take it further. His tongue flicked against my lower lip teasingly, as if it were begging me to open my mouth and deepen the kiss,
Somehow, I resisted.
Only just.
I exhaled when he pulled away, leaving my lips feeling cold and lonely without his touch.
“Don’t forget what I said. Two drops of the medicine in the morning, a pinch of the powder with lunch.”
Wait, what?
I blinked at the space where he just was, and I’d only just focused both my gaze and my brain when the door swung shut.
This time, he really had left.
And of course, he’d been talking about Lucifer’s medicine.
I touched my fingertips to my lips and ran my teeth over the lower one, tugging at a piece of loose skin at the side.
Isaac had kissed me.
I’d just kissed Isaac.
Butterflies went crazy inside my tummy, and I felt like a teenage girl who’d just discovered her crush liked her, too.
I had no idea what to do with this feeling, so I just stood there like a freaking idiot in my hallway, staring at the front door.
“Jesus,” I breathed after a long moment. I shook my head to clear my brain of the fog that’d settled there.
I needed to get my shit together, or I’d be in bits within hours.
I locked the front door so Isaac couldn’t play anymore appearing tricks, then went back into the living room. Lucifer was now curled up in the spot I’d been sitting in, and a glance at the clock told me it was probably a good time to brush my teeth and watch Netflix in bed, because I had nothing else to do tonight.
And absolutely, positively, totally, not sext Isaac.
That was not going to happen.
I turned everything off in the living room and, after checking Lucifer had fresh water, I went upstairs where I went through the motions of my bedtime routine. Teeth, makeup removal, face washing, pants removal…
Climbing into bed, I snuggled under the covers and turned on my TV, then reached for my phone. There was an unread message, and I didn’t need to tap the notification to know who it was from.
No sexting, I repeated to myself inside my head. Keep your hands out of your pants, Hannah.
I opened the text and laughed out loud.
ISAAC: Kissing you wasn’t the best idea. Now I feel like I NEED to sext you.
ME: Not happening, buddy.
ISAAC: I know. Can I come back over?
ME: I thought you were a gentleman.
ISAAC: I am. My hard on is not.
I laughed again, rolling onto my front so I could type easier without the worry I’d drop my phone on my face.
We’d all done it, okay?
ME: Your hard on is your problem.
ISAAC: It’s your fault.
ME: Still your problem.
ME: Also, this is venturing dangerously close to sexting. Go away.
ISAAC: You’re a hard woman to please. Do you know that?
ME: I’m actually quite easily to please as long as you know what spot to hit.
ISAAC: Now who’s getting dangerously close to sexting?
ME: Get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking about pizza.
ISAAC: How does what you said even remotely relate to pizza?
ME: It’s all in the interpretation.
ISAAC: And you think I’m difficult to talk to. Bloody hell.
ME: You are difficult to talk to.
ISAAC: You’ve had one conversation with me, and for half of it, you weren’t even talking to me.
ME: It’s a skill of mine.
ME: What do you want me to do? Crawl out of bed and come and have a conversation over the backyard fence?
ISAAC: Don’t be daft.
ME: Don’t be daft? What does that mean?
ISAAC: Fuck me. We’re going to need a translator.
I responded with a string of middle finger emojis.
ISAAC: It means don’t be stupid. Besides, I have a boner. I don’t think seeing you in person is a good idea right now.
ME: I think I’ll take that as a compliment.
ISAAC: You can take it however you want. I don’t mind giving it to you.
ME: Isaac.
ISAAC: I’m talking about compliments. And you think MY mind is in the gutter. Jesus.
ME: I’m going to need to move house.
ISAAC: You won’t move.
ME: How do you know?
ISAAC: Because nobody else in this town will rescue you when you have a vet emergency late at night or give you free meds for the kitten that isn’t your kitten.
ME: …That is a very valid point.
ISAAC: If I knew bribing women with free meds for their animals would endear them to me, I would have done that a long time ago.
ME: Please. All you have to do is walk in and you endear them to you.
ISAAC: Look at that. A compliment. I feel very privileged.
ME: You’re insane.
ISAAC: I am. Now stop texting me.
ME: You texted first. Why should I stop?
ISAAC: So I can reread our older texts and get rid of this erection.
ME: Oh hell no!
He didn’t reply.
ME: Isaac.
Still nothing.
ME: I AM HIGHLY UNCOMFORTABLE RIGHT NOW
ISAAC: Have you ever had an erection you can’t get rid of? That’s fucking uncomfortable, Hannah.
ME: Wow. Did you finish already? This is why we shouldn’t sleep together.
&n
bsp; ISAAC: No, I did not finish. I didn’t even start. Your text messages ruined my scrolling.
ME: I can’t believe you’re even considering it.
ISAAC: What? It’s that or I go get myself off in the shower while imagining you in there with me.
ME: That is such a teenage boy thing to say.
ISAAC: Must I reference my erection again?
ME: You know what? Go do the shower thing. But you should know that I have terrible balance and I’m more likely to slip and fall in the middle of a shower fuck, thus snapping your penis straight off.
ISAAC: It’s worth the risk.
ME: You’re unbelievable.
ISAAC: In bed. I’m unbelievable in bed.
ME: Don’t you have to go jerk off? Go away.
ISAAC: I’ll let you know how you are in the shower.
ME: I appreciate the heads up.
ISAAC: I’m sure you’ll be fantastic.
ME: This is getting weird.
ISAAC: I know. I was wondering how weird I could make it.
ME: This. This is how weird you can make it.
He replied with two lines of the laughing face emoji.
ISAAC: Talk to you later, Hannah.
ME: If we must.
ISAAC: We much. You should know that I’m not giving up on making those text messages a reality. We will fuck for real.
ME: We’ll see.
ISAAC: You’re right. We will.
CHAPTER SEVEN – HANNAH
