Page 38 of Lovestrung

I released Astrid and took a step away, covering my hard-on with my hand. “Well, you aren’t getting that from me ever again, babe, so best find another toy to amuse you.”

She grinned, her brown eyes sparkling with mischief. “What a shame. Maybe next time.”

I shook my head as I grabbed a towel from a chair next to the set-up. “Sorry, but it won’t happen.”

“Why not? Thanks, babe,” she fluttered her eye lashes as Callum gave her a robe. He winked at her, his eyes filled with hunger, and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t pass her up if she offered herself to him. But when she tilted her head, the calculating gleam in her eyes was enough to make me want to escape her as soon as possible.

I headed for the shower to clean off the massage oil sticking to every-fucking-where on my body.

“Someone waiting for you at home?” she shouted after me.

“No,” I called out, my back to her, “but pretty soon, there will be.”

Or, at least I hoped so.

Thirty-one days later

“What’s got you so prissy, man?” Luke grunted at me. He was lying on my couch, head held in his hands and looking like a skunk who’d had a night of depravity. Not pretty. After he’d practically knocked my front door down at three in the morning, I’d let him pass out on my couch like he’d done so many times before. But this was one time I regretted opening my door. “You look like you’ve got ants crawling up your ass.”

I stopped pacing in front of him and glared. Despite his hungover state, he had the wits to notice my temper and he raised his hands, palms up, at once.

“Sorry I asked.”

I resumed pacing my loft, too anxious to sit down. For the hundredth time, I grabbed my cell and checked the time.

“For fuck’s sake, will you just call her already? All that pacing around is making my head spin,” Luke moaned and scooted further down.

I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Puh-lease. Don’t try to bullshit me. It’s written all over your face that you’re hung up on some chick, and if you ask me, I’d say it’s about fucking time.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, when’s the last time you’ve gotten laid? Because I’d say you need it.”

Luke squinted deeply bloodshot eyes my way, his sandy colored hair sticking up in every direction.

“Remind me again why I let you crash at my place?” Like the coward I was, I deflected his comments. I didn’t need one of my closest friends to know about my feelings for Penelope when I hadn’t even seen her myself yet.

“Because you have a soft heart, my friend. I’m forever in your debt,” he snorted. I shook my head in disbelief and stopped my pacing in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Historic Downtown Mall, one of the busiest streets in Charlottesville. I gave up arguing with him, mostly because he was right, but also because I didn’t have the patience to argue with a hungover guy who was practically back to falling asleep on my couch.

What if she didn’t feel the same?

What if she couldn’t remember the kiss?

As the memory of our kiss swamped my senses, I bit my lip, then ran my hands across my eyes, disgusted with myself.

Fuck. I’m pathetic.

It was only ten thirty a.m. on a Saturday morning, but I’d been up since the crack of dawn, unable to sleep. Penelope’s flight landed an hour ago – her dad had sent me a text after him and Vivian had picked her up – but whereas I thought I’d figure out my next step once she was back on American soil, I was fucking clueless.

I’d just graduated from Virginia Tech and wasn’t living in Blacksburg anymore. I didn’t miss my old dorm room – who’d miss living with a bunch of smelly college guys? – but I hadn’t settled in at my new place just yet, either. Boxes of my belongings were scattered here and there against walls, I had yet to assemble two out of my three bookshelves, and the kitchen adjacent to the bathroom still needed a good splash of paint. I didn’t even own a proper bed in the bedroom at the farthest end of my home yet but made do with a mattress on the floor. I’d had worse, though.

The best part of my new home was that it was just a couple of blocks away from Frederik’s – and in turn, Penelope’s – home.

Stalkerish? Perhaps. But when I’d seen the ad that the place was up for rent, I’d jumped at the chance to live there.

I jiggled some loose change in my front pocket and then checked the time again.

Ten forty-five.

What the hell was I doing here? This edgy, lovesick mess wasn’t me. I needed to get out of this place.