Текст книги "This Man"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 27 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

He opens the door and strolls in, without so much as looking at me. I’m left to shut the door behind me and follow him into the kitchen, where I find him grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He takes a few swigs before thrusting it at me.

I don’t bother pushing it away. Last Saturday and the memory of my aching head when I came around is enough of a motive to accept his offering. I drink the water under his watchful eye, placing the empty bottle on the worktop when I’m finished.

‘Turn around.’ he orders.

Oh, here we go! A million fireworks light up inside me as I follow through on his command, turning away from him, my libido screaming, my skin is prickling. The feeling of his warm hands skating over my shoulders has me clenching my jaw and drawing steadying breaths. He grasps the zip of my dress and slowly pulls it down, making a point of sliding his hands down my sides as he drags it down my body, kneeling as he goes. My ankle is tapped and I step out of the pooling material, turning back to look down at him knelt before me.

He gazes up at me, slowly rising to his feet, dragging his nose up between my breasts until he reaches my throat. He breathes into my neck. Oh, yes, I’m mentally begging for him, as per usual.

Latching on with his lips, he nips and licks at my delicate flesh. My skin is burning for him to touch me, I want to grab him. But I know this will be done on his terms.

‘Do you want my mouth on you, Ava?’ he asks softly.

My breath catches in my throat as his voice vibrates against my ear. I sigh, long and breathy.

‘You need to say the word.’ He brushes his lips over my ear. My knees shake.

‘Yes.’ I gasp on an exhale.

‘Do you want me to fuck you, baby?’

‘Jesse.’ I jerk as he strokes between my thighs.

‘I know. You want me.’ He bites down on my ear lobe, the metal of my silver studs chinking against his teeth. I shudder, panting and desperate for him. But then he pulls away, leaving me standing a wanton mass of hormones in front of him. ‘Stay there.’ he orders firmly, walking away.

He’s still fully dressed in his suit as I watch him stride away from me and open a cupboard, taking something out. Chocolate spread? My pulse accelerates.

Calmly, he makes his way back over to me. I run my eyes down his lean physic, delighting in the stiff bulge at his groin. I wait, undemanding and tolerant of his leisurely pace. When he finally reaches me, he gets up close and personal with my face, breathing his hot, minty breath all over me as his lips skim my cheeks, my eyes, my chin, finally resting gently on my lips.

I hum in pure pleasure, opening my mouth, but he breaks our kiss and starts lowering himself down my body. A barrage of heat floods me, my short, sharp breaths becoming suppressed and ragged. Looking up at me as he descends, his nose grazes my lace knickers, triggering my hands to fly out and grab his shoulders for support. He gives me that knowing smile and starts rising again, pressing his body against mine on his way.

‘You’re so affected by me,’ he breathes in my ear.

I shiver, catching my breath. ‘Yes, I am.’

‘I know you are. It…really…fucking…turns…me…on.’ He steps away from me. What’s he doing? His hands come up, and I register him holding my dress in one. And in the other…a pair of scissors.

He wouldn’t?  He calmly opens the scissors and sets them at the hem of my dress. Then, very slowly, he snips up the centre as I watch on a gape. It seems he bloody would. A five hundred pound dress? I can’t even locate the ability to stop him or shout at him. I’m utterly stunned.

Not content with having my five hundred pound, taboo dress in two pieces, he proceeds to calmly chop it up into a further few scraps before placing the mutilated material, calmly and precisely with zero emotion, on the island with the scissors. He turns back to face me.

I find my voice. ‘I can’t believe you just did that.’

‘Don’t play games with me, Ava.’ he warns, all calm and controlled. He slips his hands in his trouser pockets and regards me closely as I stand in front of him, unequivocally staggered. All fuzzy tipsiness has completely gone. I’m sound minded, steady and absolutely astounded by his demonstration of so called power.

‘You,’ I point my finger in his face, ‘are crazy!’

His lips form a straight line. ‘I fucking feel it. Get your arse to bed!’

What? Get my arse to bed?  The man is way past unreasonable – he’s completely impossible. I feel my brow knit. If I spend any more time with this man, I’ll be having Botox before I’m twenty seven. ‘I’m not getting in bed with you!’ I kick my heels off and pivot, leaving the kitchen and my simmering control freak behind. With me in my underwear and my dress in a dozen pieces, I’m pretty much screwed.

I take the stairs, slamming my feet down, huffing all the way. I could scream! He’s a raving fucking nutjob! Barging into the bedroom, I spot my gym bag at the end of the bed, but I know there are no clothes in there. I found that out this morning when my dress was set out waiting for me. Well, I’m not staying in here. No fucking way!

I stomp back out and head across the open landing, letting myself into the furthest spare bedroom. I have a choice of three others, but this one is my favourite and it’s the furthest away from him! I slam the door behind me and crawl into the wonderfully dressed bed that still looks like it did on launch night. Flinging all the fancy cushions on the floor, I slam my frustrated head down into the pillow. It doesn’t smell of fresh water and mint, and it’s nowhere near as comfortable as Jesse’s bed, but it will do for tonight. Tomorrow, I’m leaving. The man is deranged! There is just no bloody point even trying to have my own way. Even if he’s gentlemanly enough to give it to me, he tramples all over it later anyway.

ARSE!

The door opens wide, the light from the open landing gushing in. I watch his silhouette grow larger as he closes in on me. What’s he going to do now? Pump my stomach?

He bends down and scoops me into his arms without a word. If I thought it would get me anywhere, I would fight him off. But I don’t. I let him carry me into his bedroom and place me in his bed.

I roll over onto my front, burying my face into a pillow, closing my eyes and pretending not to relish in the comfort of his scent all over the sheets. I’m mentally exhausted and grateful it’s the weekend. I might sleep for the whole of it. I hear the shuffles and movements of Jesse getting undressed. He better stay on his own side!

The bed dips, I’m grasped around my waist and pulled, with minimum effort, into the hardness of his chest. I try to bat him away, ignoring the warning growl emanating from him.

‘Get off!’ I snap, peeling his fingers away from me.

‘Ava,’ His tone is seriously lacking patience. It just incenses me further.

‘Tomorrow…I’m out of here.’ I spit, heaving myself away from him.

‘We’ll see.’ He almost laughs as he yanks me back into him, squeezing me to his body.

I stop fighting, it’s a fruitless endeavor. Besides, I can’t help the immense contentment I feel with his arms wrapped tightly around me, his hot breath in my hair.

I’m still boiling mad, though.

Chapter 33

 

‘Rise and shine, lady.’ His nose is touching mine as I open my eyes.

I give my brain a few moments to kick into gear and my eyes time to adjust to the light. When my focus eventually clears, I find he’s looking down at me with bright green, twinkling eyes. I, on the other hand, want to sleep some more. It’s Saturday, and not even my need to rip a strip off of him will get me out of this bed any time soon.

I push him away, rolling over. ‘I’m not talking to you.’ I grumble, snuggling back down into my pillow. He gives my backside a swift slap before flipping me back over and pinning my arms down. ‘That hurt!’ I scowl at him. The corners of his lush lips are twitching, but I’m in no mood for roguish Jesse this morning. Why is he so happy? Oh, yes. I know damn well why. He’s shredded the taboo dress and he’s got me before eight o’clock.

I’m swathed from head to toe in him as he gazes down at me, running his eyes all over my face. I should bring my knee up and catch him where it counts!

‘Now, today can go one of two ways,’ he informs me. ‘You can stop being unreasonable and we’ll have a lovely day together. Or, you can continue being a defiant little temptress, and I’ll be forced to handcuff you to the bed and dig you in the tickle spot until you lose consciousness. What’s it to be, baby?’

Me? Unreasonable? My jaw falls open as he watches me with interest. Does he seriously think I won’t challenge him on that little proposal?

I lift my head so I’m right up close to his stubbled, irritatingly stunning face. ‘Fuck…off.’ I say, slowly and clearly. He recoils, his eyes widening at my brashness. I’m pretty ashamed of myself too. But he brings out the worst in me with his unreasonable ways.

‘Watch your fucking mouth!’

‘No! What the hell are you doing having doormen advise you of my movements?’ That little memory has just landed in my waking brain. But if I’m right, and he’s arranged for bouncers to monitor me, then I’ll boil over.

‘Ava, all I want to do is make sure you’re safe.’ He drops his head down, starting to chew his lip. ‘I worry, that’s all.’

He worries? He’s known me for less than a month, and he’s getting all protective and possessive? He tramples everywhere, derails me, cuts up my dresses and prohibits me from drinking.

UNREASONABLE! ‘I’m twenty six years old, Jesse.’

He returns his eyes to mine. They’re dark again. ‘Why did you wear that dress?’

‘To piss you off,’ I answer honestly, wriggling a little in complete vain. I’m not going anywhere.

‘But you thought you weren’t going to see me.’ His brow furrows. Does he think I was wearing it for someone else?

‘It’s principle,’ I mutter. I wanted the upper hand, even if he didn’t know it. ‘You owe me a dress.’

He smiles, nearly blinding me. ‘We’ll put it on our list of things to do today.’

What list would that be? Right now, I want to go back to sleep. Or, he could wake me up another way. I squirm underneath him, his eyebrows jumping up in surprise.

‘What’s all that about?’ he asks, blatantly trying to hide a grin.

Okay, now I know exactly what his game is. He’s going to deny me, just like he did last night and just like he did before I went out. That’s going to be his punishment for me defying him. He’s cute. It’s the worst thing he could do.

‘You don’t need to keep me safe.’ I gripe, worming my way free from under him. He can set the gauntlet all he likes.

‘That’s how much I care about you.’ he calls to my back, as I leave him lying on the bed.

Care? I want him to love me, not care. I walk across the bedroom to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. He cares about me, like a brother or something? I feel my heart slowly cracking.

I go to the toilet and wash my hands before placing myself in front of the huge mirror that spans the back of the vanity unit. I sigh wearily. What am I going to do? He cares. If caring means poking up with this, then he can devote his care elsewhere.

I wash my face and make a grab for Jesse’s toothbrush, only to find my own in the holder with it. Huh? I cake it in paste on a frown and set about brushing my teeth, glancing in the mirror to the shower and spotting my shampoo and conditioner on the shelf, along with my razor and body wash. Has he moved me in? I carry on brushing my teeth, opening the door back into the bedroom, finding Jesse sprawled on his front with his face buried in the pillow. I walk past him into the walk-in-wardrobe, nearly choking on my toothpaste when I see a selection of my clothes hanging there.

He has moved me in! That’s a bit presumptuous, isn’t it? Did I not get a say? I might very well love him, but I’ve known him for a few weeks. Moving in? What does this mean? Does he want me here to take care of me? Well, if so, he can sod right off. Control me, more like.

‘Problem?’

I swing around, my toothbrush hanging from my mouth, to find Jesse filling the doorway of the wardrobe, looking slightly apprehensive. It’s a look that I’ve not seen on him before. My eyes drift down his torso, delighting in the flex of his muscles as he braces himself on the door frame with both hands. But I quickly re-focus my attention away from his distracting chest, suddenly remembering why I’m in the wardrobe. I garble a load of inaudible words around my toothpaste and brush.

  ‘I’m sorry, run that by me again.’ His lips twitch at the corners as I yank my brush from my mouth.

He bloody well knows what’s wrong with me. I garble again, my words a little more comprehensible with the absence of my brush, but the paste is still hindering proper speech.

He rolls his eyes and picks me up, taking me to the bathroom. ‘Spit.’ he commands as he places me on my feet.

I rid my mouth of all the paste and turn to face my unreasonable control freak. ‘What’s all this?’ I wave my arm around in the general direction of everything.

He clamps his lips together to suppress a smile and leans forward, licking off the remnants of the paste from around my mouth, his hot tongue sweeping across my bottom lip slowly. ‘There. What’s what?’ He flicks his tongue up to my temple, blowing a long, hot breath in my ear. I tense when he reaches down to cup my sex, sending chills of pleasure flying through me.

‘No!’ I push him away from me. ‘You’re not manipulating me with your delicious Godliness!’

He grins that roguish grin. ‘You think I’m a God?’

I huff, turning back to the mirror. His head is expanding at a rate so fast, I might be forced to jump out the bathroom window before I’m squashed against a wall.

He curves his arm around my waist and pulls me against his front. Leaning down and resting his chin on my shoulder, he studies me in the reflection of the mirror. Pushing his erection between my thighs, he circles his hips, sending my hands flying down to catch the side of the vanity unit.

‘I don’t mind being your God.’ he whispers on a husk.

‘Why is my stuff here?’ I ask his reflection, willing my body to behave and not get swallowed up by all his lovely Godliness.

‘I collected it from Kate’s earlier. I thought you could stay here for a few days.’

‘Do I get a say?’

He circles those damn hips again, milking a small cry from me. ‘Do you ever?’

I shake my head at him in the mirror. One corner of his mouth rises on a mischievous smile as he circles again. I’m not going to react to his damn hip swivels because I know he’s going to leave me hanging again. And what’s Kate playing at, letting all these men rummage through my belongings? There’s more than two days’ worth of clothes hanging in that wardrobe. What’s his game?

‘Get yourself ready, lady.’ He kisses my neck and smacks my arse. ‘I’m taking you out. Where would you like to go?’

I look at him stunned. ‘I get to choose?’

He shrugs. ‘I have to let you have your way some of the time.’ His face is dead pan. He’s completely serious.

I should grab his offer of power with both hands while he’s being so reasonable, but I’m suspicious. After his reaction last night, his massacre of the taboo dress and the silent treatment, I‘m befuddled as to why he’s woken up all balanced and stable.

‘So, what would you like to do?’ he asks.

‘Let’s go to Camden.’  I suggest, bracing myself for his refusal. Men hate all that hustle and bustle and roaming around browsing at stuff.

‘Okay.’ He turns to get in the shower, leaving me at the sink wondering where my challenging control freak has gone. Now, I’m most definitely suspicious.

I land at the bottom of the stairs to hear Jesse talking on his phone. I walk into the kitchen and dribble a little. He looks glorious in some worn jeans and a navy polo shirt, collar turned up – Jesse style. He’s shaved and shoved some wax in his hair. He really is unreasonably handsome, as well as unreasonable everything else.

‘I’ll be in tomorrow, is everything okay?’ He turns from his stool, running an eye down my body. ‘Thanks, John. Call me if you need me.’ He places his phone down without looking away from me, folding his arms over his chest. ‘I like your dress.’ His voice is all low and husky.

I look down at my flowing, floral tea dress. It sits on my knee so the length probably meets with his approval. I’m surprised Kate packed it; it’s a bit summery, with its cut out back and lack of sleeves. I smile to myself. He hasn’t seen the back yet. And I’m not showing him either. He’ll make me change. I know it.

I pull on my thin knitted, cream cardigan, then position my suede bag across my body. ‘Ready?’ I ask.

He pushes himself to his feet, approaching me all moodily. I expect a deep kiss, but I don’t get one. Instead, he slips his Wayfarers on, takes my hand and pulls me towards the door. I get to spend the whole day with him and he’s not even going to kiss me?

‘You’re not going to touch me all day, are you?’

He looks down at our joined hands. ‘I’m touching you.’

‘You know what I mean. You’re punishing me.’

‘Why would I do that, Ava?’ He pulls me into the elevator. He knows damn well what my point is.

I look up at him. ‘I want you to touch me.’

‘I know you do.’ He punches in the code.

‘But you won’t?’

‘Give me what I want, and I will.’ He doesn’t look at me.

I don’t believe this. ‘An apology?’

‘I don’t know, Ava. Do you need to apologise?’ He still keeps his focus straight ahead. Even in the reflection of the doors, he still won’t meet my eyes.

‘I’m sorry.’ I practically spit. I can’t believe he’s doing this. And I can’t believe I’m this desperate for the contact.

‘Now, if you’re going to apologise, at least sound sorry.’

‘I’m sorry.’

His eyes meet mine in the mirror. ‘Are you?’

‘Yes, I’m sorry.’

‘You want me to touch you?’

‘Yes.’

He turns into me fast, pushing me up against the mirrored wall and completely blanketing me with his body. I feel instantly better. That wasn’t too hard at all. ‘You’re beginning to understand, aren’t you?’ His lips hover over mine, his hips pushing into my lower stomach.

‘I understand.’ I pant.

He takes my mouth, my hands finding his shoulders, my nails digging straight into his muscles. Yes, that’s much better. I meet his tongue, melting into him completely.

‘Happy?’ he asks, breaking our kiss.

‘Yes.’

‘Me too. Let’s go.’

We pull up in Camden for breakfast after Jesse got his way and drove. It’s a beautiful day, and I’m already too warm in my cardigan, but I’ll suffer for a little longer. There’s still scope for him to take me home in disgrace and make me change.

Jesse collects me from the pavement, leading me across the road to a lovely little quaint café. ‘You’ll love it here. We’ll sit outside.’ He pulls out a large wicker chair for me.

‘Why will I love it?’ I ask as I sit on the polka dot cushion.

‘They do the best Eggs Benedict.’ He smiles brightly at me when he sees my eyes light up.

The waitress approaches on a dribble when she spots Jesse in all his manly Godliness, but he’s completely oblivious.

‘Can we have two of the Eggs Benedict,’ He points at the menu, ‘a strong black coffee and a cappuccino with an extra shot, no chocolate or sugar, please.’ He turns his face up to the waitress, blasting her with one of his smiles, reserved only for women. ‘Thank you.’

She appears to stagger slightly. I laugh to myself. Yes, he had that exact same affect on me.

She eventually finds her voice. ‘Would you like ham or salmon with your eggs?’

He hands her the menu, taking off his Wayfarers so she gets the full impact of his stunning face. ‘Salmon, please.’

I shake my head in dismay and check my phone, while the waitress makes a meal of writing out our basic order. I wonder how Victoria and Drew got on. I’m not so bothered about Tom – he’s undoubtedly in love again with the latest soul mate.

‘White or granary?’

‘Sorry?’ I glance up from my phone and find the waitress still hovering.

‘Would you like white or granary bread?’ Jesse repeats on a small smile.

‘Oh, granary, please,’

He returns his glorious greens to the wilting waitress. ‘Both granary, thank you,’

She flashes her most willing smile before finally leaving us. The woman’s reaction to Jesse reminds me of how many others would have been before me. It makes me feel crap. Was he as unreasonable and controlling with all the others? Christ, I bet there have been a few. I place my phone on the table and look across at Jesse, who’s watching me closely, chewing his lip. What’s he considering?

‘How are your legs?’ he asks, but I know that’s not what’s got him chomping on his bottom lip.

‘Fine, do you run often?’ I already know the answer to this. No one gets up in the middle of the night to run fourteen miles unless they’re serious about it.

‘It distracts me.’ He shrugs, sitting back in his chair, his expression thoughtful.

‘Distracts you from what?’

He keeps his eyes on me. ‘You,’

I scoff. He’s obviously not running very much at the moment then, because he’s spending most of his time trampling all over me. ‘Why do you need distracting from me?’

‘Because, Ava…’ He sighs. ‘I can’t seem to stay away from you and, more worryingly, I don’t won’t to.’ His tone harbours frustration. Is he frustrated with me or with himself?

The waitress places our coffees on the table and lingers for a while, but she doesn’t get blessed with another knock out smile. He’s focused on me alone. His statement is bitter sweet. I’m delighted that he can’t stay away from me, but slightly affronted that it seems to annoy him.

‘Why would that be worrying?’ I ask nonchalantly, while stirring my cappuccino and mentally pleading for some satisfactory answers. After a few moments have passed, he still hasn’t answered so I glance up, discovering the cogs whirling at a hundred miles an hour and his bottom lip getting a punishing chew.

He eventually exhales noisily, dropping his eyes. ‘It’s worrying because I feel out of control,’ He returns his eyes to me, penetrating me with his fixed, green stare. ‘Feeling out of control is not something I do well, Ava. Not where you’re concerned.’

Ah! Is he admitting that he’s a complete unreasonable control freak? It’s bloody obvious that he doesn’t cope when he’s defied – I’ve seen hard evidence of that.

‘If you were more reasonable, you wouldn’t feel out of control very often. Are you like this with all your women?’

His eyes widen, then narrow. ‘I’ve never cared enough about anyone else to feel like this,’ He picks up his coffee. ‘It’s just fucking typical that I would go and find the most defiant woman on the planet to…’

‘Try and control?’ I raise my eyebrows at him, and he deepens his scowl on me. ‘What about other relationships?’

‘I don’t have relationships. I’m not interested in getting involved. Anyway, I don’t have time.’

‘You’ve devoted enough time to trampling all over me.’ I blurt over my coffee cup. If this isn’t involved, then I don’t know what is.

He shakes his head. ‘You’re different. I told you, Ava, I’ll trample anyone who tries to get in my way. Even you.’

This I know. I’ve been trampled already when I refused to stay in. I’m glad my trampling ritual is a little different to that of others who have had the pleasure. Poor Cockney springs to mind immediately. He’s not interested in relationships? Where’s this going then?

Our breakfast lands on the table, smelling divine. Tucking in, I ponder his declaration of being out of control. The solution is pretty simple – stop being so unreasonable and challenging. He’ll keel over from a stress induced heart attack if he carries on the way he has.

‘Why am I so different?’ I ask. My voice is small.

He calves his way through his salmon. ‘I don’t know, Ava.’ he says quietly.

‘You don’t know much, do you?’ It’s all he bloody says when I try and determine a reason for his controlling ways. I spark “all sorts of feelings”. What am I supposed to make of all this?

‘I know that I’ve never wanted to fuck a woman more than once. You, though, I really do.’

I recoil in horror, nearly choking on a piece of toast.

He has the decency to look apologetic. ‘That came out wrong.’ He puts his fork down, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. ‘What I’m trying to say is that…well…I’ve never cared about a woman enough to want more than sex. Not until I met you,’ His head rub gets more aggressive. ‘I can’t explain it, but you felt it, didn’t you?’ He looks at me. I think I see desperation for confirmation. ‘When we met, you felt it.’

I smile lightly. ‘Yes, I felt it.’ I’ll never forget it.

His expression changes instantly – he’s smiling again. ‘Eat your breakfast.’ He points his fork at my plate, and I resign myself to living without the knowledge I so desperately want. If he doesn’t know, there’s not much chance of me ever knowing. Would it make it easier to cope with him if I knew what made his complex mind tick?

Regardless, he’s just – in not so many words – told me that he wants more than sex, hasn’t he? So, he cares about me. Does care equal control? And he’s never had a relationship? I can’t believe that for a second. Women throw themselves at this man. He can’t just screw them all once, surely? Christ, if he’s never fucked a woman more than once, how many have there been? I’m just about to ask this question, but I halt mid-inhale. Do I want to know? I’ve been sleeping with this man with no protection, and even though he’s told me that he’s never not worn a condom – except with me – should I believe him?

‘We need to buy you a dress for The Manor’s anniversary party.’ he declares, in an obvious tactic to distract me from my pressing questions and thoughts. I’m sure he knows what I’m thinking.

‘I have plenty of dresses.’ I sound really unenthusiastic, which is fine, because I am. I’m only half comforted by the fact that Kate will be there to help me through an evening of Sarah glaring at me and passing sly remarks. Has he fucked Sarah? I imagine it’s possible if he only fucks women once. The thought makes me stab at my breakfast a little too harshly.

He frowns. ‘You need a new one.’ It’s that tone that dares me to challenge him.

I sigh at the prospect of, yet another, wardrobe argument. I’ve more than enough options without buying a new dress. Besides, even if I didn’t, I’d find something just to avoid a shopping trip with Jesse.

‘Anyway, I owe you one.’ He reaches over the table, pushing a loose tendril of hair behind my ear.

Yes, he does owe me one, but I don’t want it because I doubt I’ll have any say in what dress he buys me. ‘Do I get to choose?’

‘Of course,’ He places his knife and fork on his plate. ‘I’m not a complete control freak.’

I nearly drop my cutlery. Is he winding me up? ‘Jesse, you’re really very special.’ I load my voice with all the sweetness the statement deserves.

‘Not as special as you,’ He winks at me. ‘Are you ready to hit Camden, baby?’

I nod, fishing my purse from my bag, while he watches me with a bewildered look. I put a twenty under the salt shaker on the table and observe as he stands on an exaggerated huff, digs into his pocket and replaces my money with his, snatching my purse from my hand and stuffing my note back inside.

Control freak! 

My phone starts dancing around the table, but before I can even instruct my brain to pick it up, Jesse has snatched it from under my nose. ‘Hello?’ he greets the mystery caller.

I look at him in disbelief. He really doesn’t have any phone manners. Who is it, anyway?

‘Mrs O’Shea?’ he says coolly.

My mouth falls open. No! Not my Mother! I try to snatch my phone back from him, but he dances away from me with a wicked grin on his maddeningly handsome face.

‘I have the pleasure of being with your beautiful daughter.’ he informs my mother. I move around the table, and he shifts the other way, frowning at me.

I clench my teeth and wave my hand frantically at him, but he just raises his eyebrows and shakes his head slowly.

‘Yes, Ava has told me lots about you, I’ll look forward to meeting you.’

Oh, the irritating twat! I’ve not mentioned much at all to Jesse about my parents, and I certainly haven’t mentioned him to them. Oh God, this is all I need. Glaring at him, I reach over, but he jumps back.

‘Yes, I’ll put her on. It was lovely to talk to you.’

He hands me the phone, and I seize it from his hand with a vicious swipe. ‘Mum?’

‘Ava, who was that?’ My Mum sounds as mystified as I expected her to be. I’m supposed to be young, free and single in London, and now strange men are answering my phone. I narrow my eyes on Jesse, who’s looking rather proud of himself.

‘He’s just a friend, Mum. What’s up?’

Jesse clutches at his heart, pulling a wounded soldier impersonation, but his annoyed facial expression doesn’t match his playful act – not in the slightest. I hear my Mother hum in disapproval. I can’t believe he’s just done that, the arrogant arse. And with everything else I have to poke up with, now I have the added bonus of my mother whittling that I’m jumping into another relationship too soon.

‘Matt called me.’ she states flatly.

I turn away from Jesse to try and hide my wide eyed look. Why has Matt called my mother? Shit! I can’t talk about this now, not in front of Jesse. ‘Mum, can I call you back? I’m in Camden, it’s loud.’ My shoulders hit my earlobes at the feel of Jesse’s eyes chiseling away at my back.

‘Yes, I just wanted you to know. He was all friendly, it doesn’t sit well.’ She sounds furious.

‘Okay, I’ll call you later.’

‘Fine, and remember, carefree fun.’ She adds the last bit in a blatant reminder of my status – whatever that is.

I turn back to Jesse, finding the expression I knew I would: very unhappy. ‘Why did you do that?’ I yell.

‘He’s just a friend? Do you often let friends fuck your brain out?’

My shoulders sag in defeat. The man’s constant change in reference to our relationship is burning my brain. He fucks me; he cares for me; he controls me… ‘Is it your mission objective to make my life as difficult as possible?’

His eyes soften. ‘No,’ he says quietly. ‘I’m sorry.’

Good God, do we have a breakthrough? Has he just apologised for being an arse? I’m more stunned now than when he hijacked my phone and greeted my mother like she was an old friend. He said himself he doesn’t offer apologies very often, but considering he doesn’t like apologising, he’s doing a lot of crazy stuff that warrants one.