‘I don’t keep alcohol. Do you want some water?’ He strolls over to the huge, black fridge and pulls it open.
‘Please.’ I join him in the kitchen area, pulling out a black bar stool from under the black granite worktop of the island. Jesse removes his suit jacket and perches on the adjacent stool, turning to face me and handing me a glass of water before he unscrews the cap of a bottle for himself. His long, muscled legs are straining against his trousers, his feet flat on the floor, but his legs considerably bent, considering the height of the stool. My feet are propped on the footrest.
He sips his water, looking at me over the bottle, while I fiddle with my glass. I feel incredibly uncomfortable. I shouldn’t have come. Things have become awkward and I’m not sure why. There is one reason and one reason alone why he’s brought me here. And like the idiot that I am, I’ve gone along with it.
I hear him sigh. He places his bottle down before he takes my glass from my hand and puts it on the island worktop. Grasping the seat of my stool, he drags it closer to his, turning it to face him, resting his palms on my knees. He leans in. ‘Why did you cry?’ he asks.
‘I don’t know.’ I answer honestly. The whole episode caught me off guard, if I’m honest. There’s no reason for me to be blubbering all over him. I feel pretty stupid.
‘Yes, you do. Tell me.’
I consider what I should say, while his eyes probe mine, waiting for me to answer. The light crease appears across his brow, and I realise now that it’s a concentration slash concern frown. What should I tell him? That I’ve just come out of a four year relationship with a bloke who persistently cheated on me? That over the last four weeks, since calling it a day, I’ve re-established my identity and I don’t want a man to rob it again? That my trust in men is zero and the fact that he is, quite clearly, a prince of seduction spells trouble for me? Oh, and finally, I know deep down that this could all end very messily for me – not him.
But he won’t want to hear any of that girly nonsense. ‘I don’t know.’ I repeat myself instead.
He sighs, his frown morphing into a scowl as he taps his fingers on the granite a few times. I can, quite literally, see the cogs of his mind grinding as he looks at me, chewing his bottom lip. ‘Would I be right in saying that your misinterpretation of mine and Sarah’s relationship wasn’t the only reason you were avoiding me?’ he asks, but it’s more like a statement than a question. He unclasps his Rolex and slides it onto the worktop.
‘Probably,’ I look away from him, a little ashamed – I don’t know why. How does he know that, anyway?
‘That’s disappointing.’ he states conclusively, but I can’t hear the disappointment in his voice. All I hear is annoyance. I don’t need to tell him that I could, very possibly, fall hard for him. Women must fall hard for him on a daily basis.
I recoil slightly when he grabs my jaw and tugs my face back to his. The hollow at his cheekbones confirm my thoughts. He’s gritting his teeth. He’s angry? What did he bloody expect? For me to drop to my knees and kiss his feet? He’s obviously use it to. It was just sex, wasn’t it? We both needed to get each other out our systems, and there was an opportunity to do just that. We took the opportunity, that’s all.
He’s not out of your system! Oh bloody hell. I don’t think he will be any time soon either – if ever. He’s already under my skin.
‘What did you want me to say?’ I ask.