Damn it, where is it? Maybe I should ring Mr. Twinkle and ask him where it is. My heart jumps at just the thought. Should I ring him? I haven’t even let myself contemplate it before now.
What would I say? I think about this from his point of view. He said he didn’t share and then we spent three dreamy nights together. I smile at the memory. God, he’s damn delicious. Then he asked to see me again on the Friday night and I said I had something on. Hmm. Then if he was walking across the road and saw me with Mark, I suppose I would have investigated, too. Bloody Mark was all over me, which didn’t help. I was jealous of him just talking to a girl at the bar. I can’t imagine if she had had her lips all over his hand or he had been holding her hand under the table. Oh shit. Maybe he is right and this is partly my fault? I just expected him to know I didn’t want Mark.
But how would he know that I’m not just stringing him along? He doesn’t know my character. He doesn’t know I don’t have the energy or morals to betray and cheat on anyone.
This is definitely something to think about.
* * *
4pm on the longest day in history and I am in the kitchen devouring every damn biscuit I can find.
Screw the diet. I don’t have the stamina for this shit.
I hold my phone in my hand and stare at it, urging myself to just ring Alastar.
I want to see him, and the more I have dissected this situation all afternoon, the more I can see his point.
Text. I will text him. What will I text him? Something undramatic. I make my coffee as I think. I’m not apologizing because he was totally out of line to behave the way he did. I’m not sucking up, either. I don’t want to appear pathetic and needy. What was the last thing he said to me?
Take your freedom.
I smirk and text.
I don’t want your freedom.
I stare at my phone. Reply, please, reply. I pour my milk into my coffee and wait.
Damn it, he’s not going to reply.
I head back to my desk and sit down when my phone beeps?
Does Wham know that you’re are using their lyrics?
Huh? I quickly Google Wham and type in freedom. What is he talking about?
The lyrics of a song come up and I smile broadly. Trust him to know this.
I text back the next lines of the song.
I don’t want to play around.
I wait for his reply and then I immediately text again.
Part time love just brings me down.
I wait for his reply and I know he’s probably smirking. My phone beeps.
I scramble to read it. The others aren’t at their desks and will be back any moment, it reads.
And?
Bloody hell, do I have to spell it out? He’s not going to make this easy. I text back.
Can I see you tonight?
I wait, and I wait. My eyes guiltily scan around the office as I tap my pencil against my desk. Damn, I am slacking today. I have hardly done a thing. Maybe Stephanie really should tattle on me? A text bounces back.
That depends.
I frown and text back.
On what?
A text fires back.
On whether you are going to go all praying mantis on me.
Chapter 12
I laugh out loud and then remember where I am, quickly regaining some composure as my eyes dart around again. I quickly reply. Shit, I am going to get caught. Without a doubt, I am the world’s worst employee.
No.
I don’t plan on killing you after mating.
Although, pull another stunt like Friday and you should definitely watch your back
I hold my breath as I wait for his reply.
Seven?
I smile broadly and reply.
Pick me up?
My mind goes into overdrive and a text bounces back.
XX
I pace around in my bedroom as I wait for my Irish Fiasco. I’m nervous and it’s an all to familiar feeling since I met him. With full, loose hair and minimal makeup, I am wearing my woolen white dress which I wore when I saw him at the club. He told me that night that he wanted my ring, and I’m hoping I can entice him again. I don’t think I have ever looked forward to seeing someone so much before. It’s Monday and I haven’t seen him since our fight on Friday night. It feels like a lifetime ago since he held me.
Vanessa and Hank are at the movies and I’m kind of glad to be honest. I want him all to myself.
Knock, knock.
My erratic heart beats against the wall of my chest, and I place my hand over it to try and slow it down. This is ridiculous. I open the door in a rush.
And there he stands, tall, dark, and beautiful. He’s wearing blue jeans, his navy blazer and a white shirt. His almost black hair is long and unruly at the top. I just want to run my fingers through it.
His intense eyes hold mine. “Hello, Emmaline.”
I smile an over the top smile and I want to throw myself into his arms, but I try to remain cool. Although I’m sure he can feel how excited I am to see him.
“Hello, Twinkle,” I breathe.
He raises a brow in question. “Twinkle?” He smirks sexily.
I grin. “If you want to call me Emmaline, I am going to call you Twinkle.”
“My name is Star.” His eyes are alight with mischief and I know he likes his new nickname.
“But you twinkle to me.”