Page 22 of Best Man (Close Proximity #1)

NINE

ZEB

I wake up in the morning slowly and the first thing I realise is that I feel warm and lazy. That’s sufficiently unusual for me to crank my eyes open. When my gaze drops on the man lying next to me, I jolt upright like I’ve been electrocuted.

My first thought is Sweet Jesus, what have I done?

Actually, that’s a lie. My actual first thought is Holy shit, he looks amazing .

Jesse is lying face down on the bed, his dark brown hair a silky mess around his face and his full, pink lips slightly parted.

His olive skin is dark against the blue bedlinen, and I’m now in a position to know that he’s that colour all over apart from a pale strip around his arse.

The reason I know that is because said arse is exposed, as I’ve pulled the sheet off him in a panic.

He starts to stir and panic fills my head.

What the fuck am I going to do? Thoughts swirl around my brain.

He works for me. I’m his boss. He’s so much younger than me.

God, he’s lovely. What about that thing he did with his tongue last night?

To my horror, I feel my cock fill. Images of last night flit lazily past my eyes .

He opens his eyes to cast a bleary gaze over me, and he smiles. It’s glorious, full of sleepy happiness, and I panic. I totally panic.

“This was a mistake,” I blurt out. Loudly. I watch the sleepy happiness fade to confusion and feel my heart sink. What am I doing? I’m not sure, but as a testament to my stupidity, I carry on doing it. “I’m so sorry,” I say hoarsely. “We shouldn’t have slept together.”

The confusion melts to something dark before he shutters it, leaving him with a blank, cool expression that doesn’t sit well on that lovely, mobile face.

“Bit late for that now.” He sits up, completely unfazed by the fact that he’s stark naked, while I have the sheet wrapped around me like I’m Doris Day in one of those old films with Rock Hudson.

I wish I was as cool, because just the sight of his cock lying semi hard against his thigh makes my mouth water.

I become aware that I’m staring at his dick, and it appears to be equally interested. I drag my gaze up to find him watching me with one eyebrow raised. I clear my throat and try to gather my composure. Remembering that I’m old enough to be his father helps.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do this again. It would be wrong,” I say awkwardly. Unfortunately, the awkwardness comes across as cold, and I wince as I watch his face harden.

“Oh, how did I know you were going to say that?” he says, sliding out of bed and striding over to the wardrobe.

He grabs a pair of faded old jeans and pulls them up.

I watch that tight, round arse disappear and have a sudden flashback to seeing the cheeks spread as I eased my dick into his tiny hole, watching as it closed around my cock.

I blink. Oh my God, I’m having sex-related flashbacks.

His expression is blank when he turns round, and much as I try to search his face, I get nothing because he’s locked down tight.

“Jesse,” I say, hating the begging note in my voice but unable to hide it. “I’m–”

“There’s really no need to say sorry again,” he says coldly. “I knew this was going to happen.” He gives a humourless laugh that really doesn’t suit him. “Maybe I should start predicting the outcome of the World Cup, seeing as I’ve been gifted with foresight. I’m much better than an octopus. ”

It’s his first display of emotion since that lovely smile when he woke up. I watch a muscle tic wildly in his jaw, belying his flippant words as he drags a white T-shirt over his head and disappears into the bathroom. I get up from the bed, still clutching the ridiculous sheet to myself.

“Can we just…” I manage to get out before he shuts the door in my face. To add to the cold feel of the room I hear the lock turn.

“Jesse,” I say softly, banging my head against the door, wishing I could do it hard enough to smash some sense into my head.

My brain is whirling with confusion. “I’m so sorry.

I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You’re so wonderful.

You’re funny and beautiful and brave and so full of life.

There is no way as an adult that I should in good conscience damage that.

And I will damage it. I’ll hurt you, because I’m too closed off.

” I think of all the things Patrick had thrown at me.

“I’m cold and obsessed with order and way too regimented for someone as full of life as you. ”

The door opens, and I sway before regaining my balance.

“That’s the trouble, Zeb,” he says icily.

“You’re talking to me like an adult to a child.

I’m twenty-four. I’m an adult too, but I’ll never be one in your eyes because you categorised me three years ago and filed me in the wrong fucking place.

But you’re too stubborn to admit that you made a mistake, so here I am.

Still on your shelf with the wrong label. ”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” he scoffs.

“But I was rude,” I persist diligently. “I just panicked.”

He laughs, and there is none of the usual rich humour about it.

It sounds horrible. “Why the fuck would you panic, Zeb? We slept together. That’s it.

Panic should be reserved for running away from tornados or erupting volcanos.

Not sleeping with the office joke who will be forgotten as soon as he leaves. ”

“Where the hell did that come from?” I say angrily as he marches towards the door, grabbing an amber-coloured jacket as he goes. “No, you wait a fucking minute. You’re not going to be forgotten like that and who the fuck ever called you the office joke? Wait, where are you going?”

I follow him into the hall and he whirls to face me.

“I am going to breakfast. Alone ,” he says as I open my mouth.

“I don’t want to speak to you for a while, Zeb, because I’ve just realised that you’re a bit of a fucking cunt.

” The door slams behind me and his mouth quirks.

“And you’re going to be super busy soon anyway.

You’re in the corridor naked apart from a sheet, and now you’re locked out of our room.

” He shrugs. “Still, as you’re such a fucking grown-up, I’m sure you’ve got a spare key somewhere on your person. See you later.”

He gives me a casual wave of his hand and disappears down the stairs. A door opens behind me and I turn and sigh. “Oh, of course it would be you.”

“Good morning, Zeb,” Nina says icily. “Nice to see you taking your messy private life onto the hotel corridors.”

“Fuck my life,” I groan and bang my head against the locked door. It hurts and maybe it should.

JESSE

I make my way quickly downstairs and out towards the lake.

I need to be outside where I can pace and try and get rid of this tight feeling in my chest. My eyes feel hot, and I rub them briskly until the moisture goes away.

I knew this was going to happen. I bloody knew it.

So why did I do it? I shake my head. Because I want him.

I want him all the fucking time and that was my chance to have him.

I rest my back against a tree and look out over the lake.

A storm is threatening and the sky is a heavy golden-grey colour, infusing everything with that strange glaze.

The water reflects the sky back, making it look somehow magical like a portal into fairy land.

I bite my lip. If I had the chance, I’d fuck off to fairy land straightaway.

Never mind the enchanted food and drink.

Just the chance not to have to face Zeb would have me signing up for wings and a wand.

I pull my coat around me because it’s noticeably cooler now and tap my fingers on my knee, hooking my nail into the slight rip there and tugging on the loose fibre. It unravels slightly and a bigger hole appears in the denim. Sort of appropriate for the way I feel this morning.

Voices sound in the distance and I push myself closer to the tree.

I don’t want to talk to anyone at the moment.

But then equally, I sort of do. I want to talk inanities so I can push away the look on Zeb’s face when he woke up this morning in bed with me.

The shock and shame were written all over him, and, for a minute, I’d wanted to shrivel up and die.

Was he wishing I was Patrick or just wishing I was anyone but me?

The thought makes bile rise in my throat.

I’d gone to sleep so happy wrapped around him, and to be cast aside like this is startling.

My phone vibrates, and when I look down I can see a message from Zeb. Actually, I can see five messages from him. I wonder if he’s managed to get back into the room without embarrassment. I hope he hasn’t.

Having the phone in my hand, though, reminds me that there is one person I can always talk to, and I pull up his contact details. The ring tone sounds and then the call connects, and I hear the lovely Welsh tones of my best friend.

“Jess?” he says. I can hear what sounds like cutlery and the radio in the background, so he and his boyfriend are probably having breakfast.

“So, hypothetically if I’d gone away for the week with my boss to pretend to be his boyfriend and ended up sleeping with him and then falling for him, would you say that was wise?” I say in a jumble of words.

There’s a long silence. “And how hypothetical would that be?” he says slowly.

I hum contemplatively. “Yeah, no, not at all hypothetical now that I come to think about it.”

There’s a longer silence and when he speaks next, he sounds incredulous. “Your boss being Zeb?” His voice goes high. “Oh my God, you fucked Zeb.”

“Yep,” I say glumly. “And it was bloody amazing, but I think he’s still in love with his ex and his ex is definitely in love with him, but he’s committed to marrying this woman so he can have children and please his parents and so he wants Zeb for a bit on the side.”