Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69621 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 278(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“I was always a bit of a lone wolf, it’s not a recent development,” Heath tells me. “Apart from when the high of the spotlight first hit. I was one of the goth kids in the shadows at school. A weirdo on the outskirts.”
“Me, too. Until I met Connor.”
“Connor? Your ex, right?”
“Yes, my ex.”
I don’t want to tell Heath how Connor finally shot to fame with a viral song about a hooker girlfriend who broke his heart. I can’t stand the bloody song. That bullshit was still all over social media when we flew out here. One good thing about not having my phone is not seeing posts about that shitty song everywhere I look.
“How long were you together?” Heath asks.
“Too long. Way, way, way too long. He’s a real piece of shit.”
Heath grins. “Most people say that about their exes, I find.”
Josh heads to the fridge and takes out a bottle of wine. He presents it to us along with three glasses, a towel over his shoulder as he maintains his chef role.
“My ex tore my heart to shreds and then laughed about it,” he says. “She was a jackass with a decent ass. Not as good as Ella’s though.”
“Magpie, yes?” Heath says.
“Yeah. I’m actually pleased she fucked me over. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Ella.”
I grin as he pours our wine.
“Same,” I tell him. “I’m glad Connor fucked me over, too. Or I wouldn’t have met you.” I take my glass and hold it up to Heath. “Or you.”
Heath raises his glass back at me. “I’m glad to be included in that statement. I’m sure plenty of your other clients would feel the same. We should send him a thank you card. He gave us a treasure.”
The walls between client and lover are crumbling by the day, I can feel it, and I can see it in Heath’s eyes. Not just in the way he looks at Josh, either. It’s spreading further than that. Blossoming like a rose in bloom between me and him as well. That goes both ways. My walls are crumbling, too. Heath is becoming far more to me than Heath Mason the superstar could ever be…
My thoughts are interrupted by Josh presenting the prized cottage pie on the worktop – a steaming tray of perfection. The potatoes have browned around the edges of the dish just right.
“This is really something,” Heath says, and his stare lingers on Josh.
Josh meets his eyes with one of the meaningful looks of his that make me tingle. He raises his wine glass.
“Yes, it is. Cheers.”
We all give a cheers and begin our evening as Josh serves up our dinner. The questions turn back into regular conversation as we all eat together at the dining table, the guys recounting the intensity of their squash matches earlier. They laugh, they talk tactics. They talk like lovers. And I listen. I love listening to both of their voices as I munch on cottage pie and roasted veg.
And all the while, the wine flows.
I love the headiness as one bottle follows the other. I adore the way the sun begins to set through the window, so stunningly.
I’m the one who clears the dinner plates away, waving off the guys’ offer of help so they can carry on talking squash tactics. I watch them as I load the dishwasher, trying to imagine this being London instead of here, and Heath being at our place, instead of his. How amazing it would be.
“Where are we having our games night?” I ask when I return, and Heath points towards the living room.
“Head on through and make yourselves comfy. I’ll stock us up on wine. We’ll be needing it.”
Josh and I saunter towards the lounge with our glasses in our hands. I find I’m looking up at him, examining his expression.
“What?” he asks with a smirk.
“You have a real thing for him, don’t you? Like a real real thing.”
Josh pulls me in and kisses my cheek.
“That’s a truth or dare question, I’d say. Quit it. The proposal hasn’t started yet.”
“What if he asks? In truth or dare, I mean. What if Heath asks what your feelings are towards him?”
We reach the living room and Josh moves the coffee table so it’s closer to the corner sofa. Easy access for all three of us.
“I’m not sure what I’ll say,” he replies. “What is there to say? He’s a great client. I love our time together.”
“That’s not the truth and you know it.”
Josh takes a seat, and pats the cushion beside him.
“Guess I’d better keep taking dares, then. And it is the truth. He is a great client and I do love our time together.”
Do you love HIM?
Part of me wants to ask him that question myself, truth or dare be damned. I’ve had my suspicions, but it’s becoming so obvious now – emotions simmering as the days move on. And it’s boiling fast.