Page 82 of Whispered Promises

Maybe this isn’t such a good idea; maybe it would be better to just be friends.

Can I even say no to any more nights like last night?

If Nate asks for a repeat, I don’t think I could physically say no. The way he looks at me, the way he touches me…

Plus, when he rubbed himself into me afterwards.

Totally regretting the shower I took this morning.

I’m warm and achy just thinking about him. I’ve no idea how, though, because even on my own, I’ve never achieved two…I can just about manage one. But my body heats just thinking about it, getting ready for him to give me another…

I cover my face and berate myself.

It’s just a word.

Why am I so awkward about it? I can say it. It’s just a stupid word. People have them.

I can say it.

Then do it.

No. Yes. No. Yes.

“Orgasm!” Shitballs! That came out louder than I thought it would.

“Rosy?”

I screech and spin around. Daisy’s claws sink into my shoulders to cling on, and my shriek goes an octave higher.

“Noah! Sorry, you scared me. What are you doing here?” I scramble to rein in the flustered panic, my voice coming out way too high. Is it obvious that I was recalling all the dirty words Nate uttered to me last night? That he sucked on my clit until I came all over his face?

Well, if he didn’t suspect something before, he must now, because my entire body is flushed and on fire.

“I thought I’d come visit, see if there’s anything I can help with. But I see you’re already having an important conversation with your companion…” He trails off, eyes twinkling with mirth as a smile stretches across his face.

“No, you're mistaken.” I brush away some dirt from my sleeve, refusing to look at his beautiful, knowing face any longer. “We were just working in silence, not saying anything at all. But it can be windy here. Sometimes you think you can hear something, but it’s just the wind.”

It’s such a terrible lie. Neither of us believe it, but he apparently decides to take pity on me.

“I’m not sure how much help I can be, but if you need an extra pair of hands, then I’m at your disposal,” he advises, stepping in closer and offering a hand for Daisy to sniff, before he gently scratches under her chin. Her purr vibrates through me, and I struggle not to scowl at her as a touch of jealousy worms its way through me.

If I thrust my chin up too, will he brush his fingers against my skin?

“I’m about to start cleaning the water troughs and buckets, so I’m not sure if you want to help with that?” I ask, unable to imagine the normally smartly dressed teacher, elbow-deep in a trough, scrubbing it within an inch of his life. At the thought, my eyes drop to his current attire. It’s…unexpected. Instead of pressed trousers or chinos, he’s donned a pair of well-worn jeans with trainers, and he’s swapped his fitted shirt for a sweatshirt. To him, it may be casual, but he still manages to wear it with such easy confidence.

He’s comfortable in his own skin, I realise. That’s what it is. He’s a person who’s completely at ease with himself, and everything about him confirms that. What must it be like?

It’s the steady, unrelenting confidence that draws me to him. Maybe if I can just be around him long enough, to bask in him, then perhaps it will rub off on me too.

“Cleaning buckets. I think I can manage that.” He grins, and I snicker at his enthusiasm, wondering how long it’ll last.

Unsurprisingly, he’s not quit and given up, nor has he complained once. We’re three troughs in, and he’s still by my side helping me.

“But do you really think it could’ve been Clarissa who planted it? I just can’t see how she would’ve got to their house to do it all without being missed,” I grunt as I scrub the inside corners, ignoring the way the dirty water splashes up my arm.

We’ve been talking through the book we’ve been reading and listening to together. There’s not been a single moment of awkward silence or stilted conversation. It’s just an easy rhythm we’ve fallen into, where he follows my actions and works just as hard.

“That’s true, but what if she did it earlier? Or she could’ve paid someone to do it. She’s got the motive and drive to have done it. Although…” He pauses, concentration fixed on a particularly stubborn area.