AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It was over a long time ago. She only kept in touch with me because of Hannah. She had invited me to her wedding out of pity, not friendship. And the hen party… God! I was such an idiot. She felt obligated to invite me after Gemma ran her mouth. That was obvious to me now.
I punched my pillow, not knowing whether to feel angry, sad, or both. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down.
I’ll get over this.
My eyes fell upon Neil’s sweater again. I had been careless, tossing it on the floor like it was nothing. I’d never treat my clothes that way, and it was probably more expensive than anything I owned. I got up and pulled the sweater off the floor. The fabric was light and soft. Without thinking about what I was doing, I lifted the sweater to my face, buried my nose in it, and inhaled. It smelled like a mixture of Neil’s dark scent, my perfume, and a faint mustiness. I realised it must have got damp from when I wore it last night. It needed to be washed. Returning it to Neil clean and fresh was the least I could do.
I marched to the washing machine and turned the settings dial. A cold wash on the delicate cycle had never failed me before. I put a little detergent in the compartment and placed the sweater in the steel drum, closed the door, and turned it on.
As soon as I took Neil’s sweater out of the washing machine, I knew I had made a huge mistake.
So much for returning his sweater in perfect condition. Instead, I’d be bringing it back shrunk and strewn out of shape.
Crap.
What had gone wrong? I inspected the settings on the washing machine. The answer became clear. It wasn’t set to delicate; it was one notch over on heavy duty. I winced.
I knew little about menswear, but the brand name on the label was Italian and sounded expensive. I should never have even attempted to wash the sweater. Now I had ruined it. Argh!
The thought of facing Neil on Monday filled me with trepidation. Having to confess to ruining his expensive sweater was daunting enough, but the fear he might mention the hug made me even more nervous.
The hug.
I cringed. What on earth was I thinking? Being drunk was no excuse for throwing myself at him like that. I could only imagine what Neil must think of me now. I had visions of him calling me to his office and giving me a stern talking to. Could he fire me over a hug? Was it sexual harassment? If it was the other way around, it certainly would be.
On my commute to work, I played with the idea of pretending I had no memory of the hug. It would be the perfect solution—if I pulled it off. But something told me I wouldn’t be able to fool Neil. He was too perceptive. He’d see right through my act. No. I’d just have to hope he wouldn’t bring it up.
I clung to this hope as I arrived at work and made my way up to the twentieth floor. I clutched a plastic bag containing the sweater in my clammy hand as I approached Neil’s office. The door was open a crack, and I took that as a green light to enter without knocking.
What I saw made me freeze in shock.
Neil stood by his desk, shirtless, his back to me. I couldn’t help but stare at his physique. He was lean, and he had wide, pronounced shoulder blades. My gaze followed the trail of his spine down to where it disappeared below his belt. I swallowed hard.
He must have heard me. He turned around as he pulled on a shirt. Now I could see his front between the undone buttons. His long, toned torso, a scattering of dark hair on his chest and stomach.
Holy moly.
I had always been vaguely aware that Neil was in good shape, but I never imagined just how gorgeous he was.
He quickly pulled his gaping shirt closed. “Amelia,” he snapped.
I jolted from my trance with a wince. “Sorry! I only just came in.” I gestured behind me. “The door was open.”
“I thought I closed it. There was a stain on my shirt,” he angled himself away from me, hastily doing up his buttons, “so I had to change. Do you need something?”
“I’ll just?—”
Come back later.
Before I could finish what I was saying, Neil had fully dressed and turned to face me. His eyes flicked to the plastic bag in my hands, and I remembered why I had gone into his office in the first place. “Neil, I…” Okay. Here goes. I pulled out the sweater, grimacing. “I ruined it. I’m sorry.”
His eyes narrowed. “You washed it?”
“Yeah.”
He gave a small, exasperated sigh, his shoulders drooping. “I appreciate what you tried to do, but it was unnecessary. And now it’s ruined.”
“I can replace it.”
