I’m not ready to forgive him just yet, even if him calling me is just so ridiculously sweet considering he’s only down the hall. Well I hope he is.
“Well, you were massively pissed off at me for good reason,” he adds quietly. “And I thought I’d try calling first, see how the land lies … see if you’ve calmed down yet … so have you?”
“What?”
“Calmed down.”
“Maybe.”
“Can I come and see you?”
“No.” I grin.
“Why?”
“Because you’re a dick, Jake Wethers.”
“I know. But I’m a dick who’s crazy in love with you … if I said I was sorry would that make us okay?”
I sigh, keeping up the pretence of my anger, which disappeared the second he said ‘crazy in love’.
“It’d be a start.”
“What about some flowers?”
“They wouldn’t hurt.”
“How about me, on my knees outside your door holding a bunch of flowers?”
“You’re outside my door aren’t you?” My skin shivers in delight.
“Maybe,” he murmurs. I can hear his smile down the line, and it touches me.
With butterflies swishing through my stomach, I climb out of bed and pad my way across the room, through the living room and swing the door open to find Jake on his knees outside my door with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand.
He looks up at me with his gorgeous blue, puppy dog eyes.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
“And you look like an idiot, get up,” I say, suppressing the huge smile I feel.
He gets to his feet and holds the flowers out for me to take.
Taking them, I hold them to my nose and inhale. They are absolutely beautiful. All pinks, purples and creams. Roses, peonies, lilies and gerberas, and some I don’t even recognise. They look expensive.
“So you bought me flowers by way of an apology.” I lift an eyebrow.
“I did,” he smiles, a careful smile.
“Did you order them in?” I’m not ready to let him off the hook just yet.
His brow furrows. “No.”
“Send Stuart out for them?”
“No,” he says clearly affronted. “I went out to the flower shop down the street and bought and picked them myself.”
“I didn’t hear any screaming from your fans when they spotted you in the street.”
He grins. “I put a disguise on.”
I squint at him, cocking my head to the side.
“Sunglasses and a hat.”
“And no one recognised you?”
“Nope,” he shakes his head.
“Thank you,” I say, softly. “They’re beautiful.”
He reaches for my hand. “I’m sorry I was being a jerk.”
“You weren’t being a jerk, you were being irrational.”
“I was. It’s just because I love you so much.” He moves his hand from mine, and strokes his fingers down my cheek.
“I love you too,” I whisper.
He stares into my eyes, a serious look on his face. “I thought about it after you left, what you were saying, and I talked to Stuart … and I get where you’re coming from,” he sighs. “I understand what you’re saying, and … I’m sorry for the way I acted and the things I said. I know you chose me, and that you want to be with me. I don’t even know why I said any of it.” He runs his hand through his hair.
He looks nervous, confused, and totally out of his comfort zone. And I guess he is. Jake’s never had to consider anyone but himself before now.
“It’s because you’re irrational.” I give him a small, teasing smile.
He nods gravely. “I am, and I deserve whatever punishment you see fit to give me.”
Curling my fingers into his T-shirt, I pull him into the room, shutting the door behind him, and put the flowers down on the table by the door.
“I’m sure I can come up with a suitable punishment,” I murmur, cocking my head to the side.
He grins his sly grin at me and my stomach free falls.
Walking backwards, my fingers still firmly hooked into his T-shirt, I lead Jake toward the bedroom.
When we reach the bed, he grabs hold of my waist and yanks me firmly against his body and kisses me hard.
Easing me out of my vest, he drops it to the floor.
I pull his T-shirt off over his head and run my fingers over his bare chest, touching his tattoos, tracing my fingers lightly over them.
He shudders under my touch and I love the feeling.
Jake lifts me up on to the bed, and I edge backwards as he climbs over me, then leans down and begins kissing my neck.
“I don’t like fighting with you,” he murmurs, tracing kisses over my skin.
“I don’t either, but the making up is pretty good.”
Jake lifts his head, looking at me. “I’d say it’s awesome.”
He sits up and yanks my pyjama bottoms off, and grinning over at me, he takes hold of my panties and tears them in two.
I start giggling.
Then he’s cutting my laughter off when he dips his head low, using his mouth to turn my laughter into groans of his name, as he sets to work on our making up session.
“We should go out today,” I say, lifting my head up from his chest.