Girl Abroad

AS I HEAT UP DINNER LEFTOVERS LATER THAT EVENING, I TRY TO stave off nausea thinking about all the ways I could make an ass of myself in front of Lord Tulley. Adding to the queasiness is my anxiety over Nate as my mind keeps replaying the incident at the museum.

I think he was about to kiss me.

No. I know he was.

And if he had, I think I would’ve kissed him back.

All right, fine. I know I would’ve kissed him back.

Which is very, very concerning, because that’s not me. I’m not that girl. I don’t tread on other women’s territory, and I’m ashamed of myself for almost going there. At the same time, my clueless heart won’t stop skipping like a giddy schoolgirl every time I imagine Nate’s mouth on mine.

Speaking of mouths I want on mine, Jack walks into the kitchen. In a red hoodie and faded jeans, he stands beside me and just scowls. He’s clearly pissed about something yet refuses to voice it.

“Use your words,” I urge.

He ignores my teasing grin. “You went to Surrey today.”

“I did. I was checking out a museum my professor pointed me to.”

The microwave beeps. I open the door to pull out my plate of steaming pad Thai. We ordered it yesterday from another one of Lee’s hidden finds. I swear, that boy knows all the best restaurants in this city.

“You went with Nate?”

“Yeah. So?”

There’s a suspicious silence behind me.

“How’d he manage to fit you and Yvonne on that bike?”

The bite to his voice gives me pause. I slowly face him. “What’s that for?”

“Hmm? What?” He plays dumb as we stand at opposite sides of the counter. “I just didn’t know you two were such good friends.”

“We’re not.” I frown. “Why do you look so mad? He gave me a ride to another museum. Nothing more.”

“That’s not why I’m mad.”

“So you are mad. All right. Let’s hear it.”

Jack crosses his arms over his chest. “If you’re going to be gone for hours, you need to call someone and let them know.”

My mouth falls open. “I’m sorry—what?”

“You can’t just take off gallivanting around the countryside without letting anybody know where you’re going. That shit’s dangerous, Abbs.”

My anger fades. Now I’m trying not to laugh at him. His expression is cloudy with disapproval, and he has this tough-guy warrior stance going on that’s sort of hot and adorable at the same time.

“Lee was worried,” Jack finishes, awkwardly dropping his arms to his sides.

“Lee, huh? That’s funny, because he didn’t call me all evening. And when I texted him on my way home, he seemed more put off that I couldn’t stop at the off-licence to pick up wine.” I raise my eyebrows in challenge. “Didn’t get a call from you either. You know, if you were so worried.”

That gets me a glare. “Just keep us in the loop next time,” he mutters before stalking out of the kitchen.

Then, just because I’m a smart-ass jerk, I set my plate on the counter and reach for my phone. I open the texting app that everyone in this country seems to prefer and start a new chat with Jack. It isn’t until his profile image pops up that I realize he and I have never texted each other outside the group chat for all the roommates.

Jack’s profile is a picture of him and a young blond I assume is his sister, Shannon, judging by the resemblance between them. I click on it and type a new message.

Me: After dinner, I might take a walk to the café down the street to pick up some muffins for tomorrow morning. Just in case you come downstairs and find me missing. When I get back, I’ll likely take a shower, so if my room is empty, it means I’m in the bathroom. No need to call the police. I repeat, don’t call the police.

I get a middle finger emoji in response.

Laughing to myself, I send back a kissy face and then eat my dinner.

Later, while Jack and Jamie are at a rugby match and the pub, respectively, Lee stations himself in my bedroom so we can hammer out a “game plan” for my meeting with Lord Tulley tomorrow. I swear, Lee is more excited for this meeting than I am. He flings dresses at me with the verve of a major league pitcher, bouncing with enthusiasm.

“You need something sophisticated but flirty,” Lee is saying, holding yet another garment in front of me.

“Why flirty?”

His features contort. “Babe, I’m not explaining the bits and bobs to you.”

“I’m not trying to marry into the family. This is just a school assignment.”Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org exclusive © material.

He whips another reject at the discard pile on my bed. Just about everything I own has been judged too hideous to be seen in public.

“What’s that face?” He studies my reflection in the mirror.

“Huh? No face.”

“Mm-hmm. So then you’re not doubting my fashion expertise?”

“Not at all.”

I’m not sure which of us is worse at this.

“Abbey. Luv. If you want to go poking around in this lad’s family skeletons, you’ve got to ingratiate yourself to his masculine instincts.”

“I’m sorry?”

Lee grabs my shoulders to press another dress to me as he appraises it in the mirror. “Get him to like you.”

“You know, it’s a little disheartening you think that requires so much underhanded calculation.”

“Please,” he scoffs. “I’m jealous. You’re lucky I don’t stuff you in a closet and go myself.”

“I don’t think it’s going to be all that enthralling, to be honest.”

“Are you mad?” Lee cocks his head at the next dress he holds up. “I’d claw eyes out to meet one of the infamous Tulleys in person. Ordinary people are so passé.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re such a snob.”

“And?” He scrutinizes two dresses, holding them out. Then he pushes them in my hands. “Either of these will do. All right. Off I go. I’ve got to put on my mask. This complexion doesn’t happen by accident.”

I’m grinning to myself as he leaves. Lee is nothing if not entertaining. I hear him exchange a few words with Jack out in the hall, followed by the bathroom door shutting and Jack’s heavy footsteps. I’m still considering my options between the dresses when Jack pokes his head in my room.

“Come to scold me again?” I ask mockingly.

He mocks me right back. “I don’t know. Have you been a bad girl again?”

Oh God.

Hot Jack shouldn’t be allowed to utter the words bad girl.

His gaze shifts to the two dresses I laid out on the bed. “The red one makes you look like a schoolteacher.”

“How do you know?”

“You wore it, like, two weeks ago.”

Did I? I don’t remember. “In a good way, or…”

“Not the sexy kind.” Jack invites himself in, his long stride eating up the space between us. The glassiness in his eyes and whiff of lager on his breath says he went out with the boys after his match.

Nearly every stitch of clothing I own has been tossed around my room, so I start putting things on hangers and folding the rest to place into drawers.

“How was the game?” I ask.

“We humiliated them. Their girlfriends will never be sexually attracted to them again.”

“Oh. Pity.”

Pushing fabric aside, he picks through the piles of clothes on my bed. “Got a date?”

“Jamie set up a meeting for me with Benjamin Tulley to ask him some questions for my research.”

“He’s good in a pinch, our Jamie. When’d that happen?”

“He texted me when Nate and I were in Surrey.”

“Right. Your private chauffeur Nate.”

“Stop making a thing out of it. I needed a lift and he offered.”

“Twice.”

I grab a stack of shirts and shove them in my drawer. It’s my turn to avoid his gaze. “Is that a problem?”

I thought I’d kept my attraction to Nate well hidden for the most part. But if it’s become obvious to Jack, chances are others have noticed too.

And if Jack believes I’m chasing another girl’s boyfriend, what must he think of me?

Because he can’t be jealous.

That’d be silly. Right?

“Do whatever you like, Abbs.”

I catch him watching me in the mirror. “Next time I need a last-minute ride to the country, you’ll be my first call.”

“I like the blue one.” He comes to stand behind me with the dress in his hand. Slowly, I turn to accept it. “It looks nice on you.”

It’s back again, that insistent desire I’ve tried to tamp down. The one that makes me wonder what his hair feels like between my fingers. The ache to run my hands across his chest. To have his touch against my skin. It sneaks up on me. Blindsided.

How does he do that?

And why can’t I ever get a handle on what he’s feeling? I can never tell if I’m imagining the chemistry between us. If it’s just in his nature, his personality, to be flirtatious. Most of the time, I’m convinced that’s the case. But then he goes and looks at me like this, and I start to doubt myself.

He steps closer.

“What are you doing, Jack?” I ask through a dry throat.

“Not doing anything, Abbey.” But his eyes are gleaming with mischief and a few pints.

I gulp. “Lee wouldn’t like knowing we’re alone in here together.”

“No,” he agrees thickly. “I’m sure there’s a house rule time limit on having boys in your room.”

“If there isn’t, then there should be.”

A hint of a smile touches his lips. Then he licks them, and my heart rate triples. I’m not sure who moves first, but before I get a whole breath in, he’s got my hips pressed against my dresser with both hands and his lips are centimeters from mine.

“This is a bad idea,” Jack whispers.

“Terrible,” I whisper back.

“Just want one taste,” he mumbles, and then he kisses me.

His mouth is soft and warm as it covers mine, the slightest tang of English beer on his tongue. I grab two fistfuls of his shirt, twisting. Rising up on my toes to meet his kiss.

Who is this girl?

I don’t recognize myself. It’s like I’m watching from across the room, not entirely aware or in control. Jack flicks some instinctive switch in me, and my subconscious takes over.

He’s not at all hurried or forceful. Rather, it’s a slow, gentle exploration that makes my head go hazy. His tongue slicks over mine, caressing, teasing, then retreating so I have to chase it into his mouth with an anguished moan.

I’m falling into him, responding to his skillful touch, when suddenly he breaks the kiss and pulls back to leave me stunned and breathless.

Jack looks at me, silent, his expression impossible to discern.

“Yeah, I’m knackered. I’m off to bed,” he mutters before strolling out of my room.

The blue dress lies in a puddle on the floor.

I blink in confusion. It’s as though I imagined it. A blurry daydream staring into the glare of the sun, that moment when you’re caught in a brilliant blinding light before your eyes adjust to the dull surroundings.

What the hell was that?