To my shock, tripping twice on the way, Jack throws himself at me, engulfing me in a bear hug, which freezes me on the spot. We’re friends, but we’ve never been tactile. I don’t think I’ve ever hugged him.
He’s not done either. The drunk idiot further baffles me by pushing his mouth onto mine.
Oh, fuck no. That’s like being attacked by a pungent, enthusiastic puppy. I push against his chest a little too hard, and the idiot falls backward into the pool.
Fuck.
“Jack!” I scream, concerned.
Thankfully, he bubbles back up to the surface and swims easily.
I sigh. “What a bloody idiot. Why would he do that?”
“I mean, he’s always had a crush on you. It’s pretty obvious.”
I stare at Liv, gaping. “What? Ew. No.”
“Lily, I love you!” he chants, swimming happily.
I groan as my friends laugh at my obvious misery—or at Jack’s nonsense, I can’t tell.
“I’m gonna go now. Yep, that’s what I’m gonna do.”
“Wait! Wait for me—” Jack hollers, thankfully incapable of dragging himself out of the pool fast, so I take the opportunity to make my escape.
We’ll have to have a conversation about this later, where I firmly shove him back in the friendzone where he belongs, but not while he’s this out of it.
I rush while walking around the pool. To my dismay, Jack swims towards me, and seems to remember how hands are supposed to work, pressing his against the tiles to drag himself out.
“Lily!” he wails, getting to his feet.
Fuck. I really don’t want to do this now.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know we’re friends, but you’re just so beautiful and—” He takes a step towards me.
I cut him off, palms up to keep him at a distance. “Jack, please stay right there. I like you a lot—but as a friend, and nothing else. Understood?”
“I know.” He doesn’t really seem to understand. “But we could be more! We like the same things. We fit.”
I groan. I so don’t want to have this discussion at one in the morning, while tipsy, with him so drunk I’ll have to repeat myself anyway.
And frankly, I hate to hurt him. How can I explain that I’m in no way, shape, or form attracted to him? It’s like kicking a kitten.
“Jack, I’m sorry, but?—”
My words die on my lips when I’m pulled by the wrist, and fall against a hard, warm surface. I only have half a second to recognize the set of amber eyes looking into mine when Cross presses his lips to mine in a moment that lasts longer than an eternity.
Oh.
Oh.
I push up to my toes, seeking more, as my insides clench and shiver.
When he straightens up, I find myself seeking the mouth again, demanding more.
He chuckles, allowing a quick peck that sends tendrils of arousal all the way down to my clit, before turning to Jack.
“Sorry, buddy. She’s mine.”