Page 22 of Love At First Fright

Need flaming through her, Rosemary knocked back the rest of her drink.

“I think I need another one.”

“I’ll get it for you.”

“No, it’s okay.” She waved him off and hustled to the bar. She needed a minute to gather her thoughts because of course he couldn’t just be fucking hot, he also had to like Jane Austen. Dina and Immy were going to have a fit when she told them about this.

Rosemary waited at the bar as the bartender served someone else.

She perused all the local ciders on tap but quickly decided that she would go with her preferred anti-anxiety drink: rum and Coke.

She would usually order a dark and stormy, but she had learnt the hard way—and with much teasing from Dina and Immy—that you were not meant to ask for cocktails in small English pubs.

“A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be buying your own drink.” A man appeared beside her, leaning on the bar. “God, the moment I said that I realised how clichéd it came across. Let me start again: I’m Josh, hi.”

“Hi, Josh. Your second impression is better than your first.”

Josh grinned mischievously, running a hand through his sandy-blond hair. “I bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Just the ones who are buying my next drink.”

Who was she and what had she done with regular, anxious Rosemary? She’d never been able to flirt this easily with someone, and Josh was…nice to look at. He had a sharp jaw, pretty brown eyes, and a wonky smile. What was not to like about that?

Maybe it was just easier to flirt back when you could actually tell someone was flirting with you in the first place. All the cards were on the table, and truth be told, she did need to get laid. Maybe this would do it. Anything to wipe Ellis from her mind.

Speaking of, Rosemary could practically feel Ellis’s eyes boring into her from across the room, no doubt taking stock of how she was about to embarrass herself with a local. She turned her body away from the table and Ellis, to face Josh.

“So, what do you do, Josh?”

“Straight to business,” he said, sipping his beer, “I like it. I’m a maths teacher, at the local primary school. Or, as you Americans would call it, ‘math,’ singular.”

She realised he was trying to crack a joke, so she let out a small giggle.

Josh seemed pleased. “What do you do then…”

“Rosemary.”

“What do you do then, Rosemary?”

“I write horror books.”

“Fuck off, that’s incredible. I think you’re my dream woman.”

“You’re laying it on thick, Josh.” She swatted him with her arm. He was cute. It felt easy. So why did she feel nothing at the touch of his arm against her hand?

“Rosemary, there you are.” Ellis stood beside her, looking grumpy as hell.

“Can I help you?” she snapped at him, giving him the universal widening of eyes signal to explain that she was busy here. Ellis chose to ignore it.

“You’re needed back at the table, Lance wants to chat more about books with you.”

“Well, if that’s the case, then Lance can wait because I’m a bit busy right now.” She gritted her teeth.

“Hey, don’t I know you from somewhere?” Josh said, leaning towards Ellis.

Ellis crossed his arms. “Not likely.”

Josh nodded, looking slowly between the two of them. He held his hands up in surrender. “Message received.” He bent towards Rosemary. “If your guard dog ever leaves you alone, come find me at that table over there, I think we could have a good time.” Josh left.

Rosemary turned on Ellis.

“What the fuck was that?”

“What?”

“ You know what. That guy was cute, he was flirting with me, and I might have had myself a fun little night before you came over.”

“Cute? Come on, Rosemary, you can do better than that.”

“You’ve clearly had too much to drink, Ellis, you’re losing the ability to see clearly.”

His breath was hot on her face as he backed her against the bar. “I can see very fucking clearly, love.”

“Oh, and what do you see?” She crossed her arms.

“You deserve someone better.”

“Well, if you see this better person, please direct them to my table. I’m going to order my drink now,” she said, evading his gaze.

“Careful with those local bartenders, they make their drinks strong.”

“I used to drink whiskey in cornfields as a teenager, I’ll be fine, Ellis.

And…” She pivoted back to face him, breath leaving her lungs as she realised just how close he was to her.

“I don’t need you swooping in here like I’m a damsel in distress, because all I am is a woman who needs to be d—” She stopped herself, realising what she was about to admit. Fuck it. “—Who needs to get laid.”

Was she imagining it or did his eyes darken? Did his gaze turn hungry and drop to her lips?

“What did you just say?” Ellis growled, almost angry.

“I said I need to get laid, Ellis.”

“No you didn’t, you were going to say something else. Tell me, Rosemary.” The command swept over her, a knot tightening in her core. She opened her mouth to tell him, but—

He’s with Jenna Dunn. The thought doused her need to reply.

Rosemary forced herself to turn away, ignoring Ellis.

She ordered her drink. When she turned around, Ellis was back at the table, taking a long sip from his drink.

Good, he should stay away. She thought about going to find Josh and continue their conversation, but that held less and less appeal.

Besides, it was hot in here. Rosemary needed a breather.

She paid for her drink and took it outside.

—

Rosemary leant against the bandstand and people-watched, her brain slowly clearing.

She looked on through the curved glass windows at the people inside the Thimble she could feel her pulse fluttering where he touched her.

“In, um, what context?”

Ellis levelled his hungry gaze at her. “You know what context.”

Rosemary squeezed her thighs together, not that it helped. She was a goner.

“I like power play, you know, being submissive.”

Ellis exhaled. She watched as his hands gripped the railing. When she turned her eyes to his face, the pair that met hers were all pupil.

“It’s not that odd, you know,” she babbled, “to want that sort of thing. It’s actually very common. Power dynamics. And it doesn’t mean I have a submissive personality. It’s just that I like what I like, okay, and—”

“Stop, love. You don’t need to justify yourself to me. I understand it. More than you might expect.”

Here, in the cold October rain, unsaid words suddenly became too big.

She wanted. Here, in the quiet space of the bandstand, insignificant things became significant: Ellis’s breath on her face, the small silver scar above his eyebrow, the droplets of rain that haloed his hair.

He moved his hand to cup her jaw, and brushed his thumb over her lips.

It nearly broke her apart. Rosemary leant closer.

“Why did you tell me all this?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“You don’t know?”

Her eyes widened. “I—”

A crash sounded from the pub entrance, the door swinging wildly on its hinges as a drunken Lance, arm in arm with Arthur and Vincent, stumbled out singing a bawdy French song.

They tripped onto the road, spitting curses at the pavement for daring to trip them.

The secret moment between Ellis and Rosemary was over, even if she didn’t want it to be.

“We better get them a cab,” he said.