Find Me Alastar(28)

“But what if it belongs with you?” she asks, squeezing my hand in hers.

“I have no doubt it does,” I whisper with regret.

End this now. I step back from her and her face falls as her eyes search mine again.

“Don’t look at me like that,” I murmur.

“Like what?”

“Like you are disappointed with me.”

“I was just hoping…” She stops midsentence.

“Hoping what?”

“That you were going to kiss me again.”

“You are here with your boyfriend.” I snap.

Her face falls. “He’s… not my boyfriend.”

“You told me he was.”

“I lied. I’d only just met him that day.”

My gaze holds hers for an extended moment.

One night, I just want one night.

No.

“That’s good to know.” I step back from her, too tempted to stick around. “I have to go. Goodbye.” I nod.

She stands and watches me but remains silent while I turn and begrudgingly walk away.



* * *



It’s 11pm and I am in bed on my laptop, stalking the divine Miss Mathew’s Facebook page.

It’s nothing new. I have done the same thing every night since our impromptu kiss last week.

I’m not allowing myself to involve her in this, and I can’t believe I rejected the ring.

That was the plan. The whole plan was to get the ring, and yet when she offered it to me, I couldn’t take it from her.

I smile. What a sweetheart to offer it to me when I know how much she loves it. The rain pours down outside. I close my computer and turn off my lamp to lay on my back and stare up at the ceiling.

I feel flat.

I need to pick up my game.

This isn’t how it was supposed to go.

My phone beeps, alerting me to a text, and I frown. Who would be texting me at this time of night? I sit up and retrieve my phone from my side table. Emerson.



* * *



I’m thinking about you, Alastar Goodnight.

x



* * *



Shit.





Chapter 6





I sit on the bench seat under my window and stare down at the twinkling city lights below. It’s early on Saturday evening and Brielle is due here soon. The two of us are taking Hank on a woman-finding mission tonight. Operation Hump Hank is well underway. We went shopping today and made him buy new clothes. We got his haircut and his beard trimmed. Damn, I even bought the guy hair gel. I am preoccupied as my mind keeps replaying my conversation with Alastar last night. I hold out my hand and look down at my beautiful ring.

“Maybe the ring belongs with you,” I said.

“I have no doubt that it does,” he replied.

For some reason that sentence is on repeat in my brain. What did he mean by that? He has no doubt that ring belonged with him, yet he rejected it when I offered it to him. My mind goes to the old lady back in Heirloom. “Trust yourself,” she told me.

I gaze down to the people walking below on the street.

“Listen to your voice,” she said.

I frown as an uneasy déjà vu feeling sweeps over me. I’ve had it all day.

If I trust my instincts, then I know for certain that he wanted to kiss me last night. I could feel it in the way he wrapped his arms around me and I could see it in his face. I haven’t had this feeling from another man before, this undercurrent of affection masked as strong physical attraction.

Maybe it is just a physical attraction? Maybe I just never had one before? Last night, when I got home, I paced back and forth in my bedroom for an hour as the old lady’s voice invaded my head again. I trusted my instincts and I text him goodnight.

I pick up my phone now and swipe it on to go through to my messages. Yep, it’s still there, even though I have read and re-read his reply at least one hundred times today.

Goodnight, Em.

X



I stare back out the window, lost in thought. Who are you? Where do you live and why can’t I stop thinking about you?

Why do two words in a text from you mean so much to me?

I hear a wolf whistle come from the lounge room and I smile broadly.

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Vanessa yells. “Emerson. Get out here.”

I laugh and jump up.

Sure enough Hank is standing in the lounge room looking down at himself. He is wearing tight jeans and a V-neck black t-shirt. His blonde hair is cut and his beard has been trimmed to look like a three-day growth. “I look like a f*cking knob,” he sighs.

“Woo hoo. Oh, Hank, you are looking the business tonight.” I laugh.

Vanessa stands with her mouth open as she inspects mine and Brielle’s handiwork. She circles him and her eyes flicker over to me. “He’s actually frigging hot under all that hair.”

I laugh and nod in agreement. “I know.”

She grabs Hank into a headlock and swings him around. “You are getting your dick sucked tonight, big boy.”

Hanks face falls in fear. “T-tonight,” he stammers.

I cover my mouth with my hand to hide my laugh. Poor thing is petrified.

“Not tonight, Hank,” I reassure him. “We are just going cocktail tasting and maybe run through some pick up lines.” I look at Vanessa. “Are you sure you can’t come? It’s going to be fun.”