Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
“I’m fine. Just a little crick in my neck.”
Oscar returned with our drinks, setting them down in front of us before he went to serve his next customer. “Come here,” Conor said, reaching out to grab my stool and pull it closer to his. A whoosh of air escaped me as he brought his large, warm hand to my neck. I was so stunned by him touching me that I found myself blinking rapidly as he asked, “Where does it hurt?”
“Um, a little lower,” I said, heart fluttering as his palm descended, gently pressing in when he found my sore spot. “Yes, there,” I went on quietly and he began to massage. This would’ve been less awkward if I were turned away from him. Instead, we faced each other, his hand on my neck, impossibly handsome eyes on mine as he teased away my tension. A small breath left me and a spark of interest lit his gaze.
I made a small, barely audible moan and his pupils flared. “You’re good at this,” I breathed.
“Hmm,” he said, almost like a hum as he continued to soothe my ache. He seemed far away then, like he was lost in thought.
Nearby Kylie was talking to a few of the club employees. She glanced my way and waggled her eyebrows, throwing an immediate bucket of cold water over whatever was happening between me and Conor. I shifted away from him and he withdrew his hand as I focused on taking a long, fortifying sip of white wine. When I looked at him again his face was questioning.
“Sorry,” I said, my voice low as I flicked my gaze to where Kylie still stood. “I have very nosy employees who love to gossip.”
At this, understanding dawned and he smiled. “I see.”
“So,” I said, swallowing down the lump of desire that seemed to have gotten wedged in my throat. “What do you think of the place?” I motioned around the club.
Conor turned on his stool, taking it all in before he looked back at me, another smile tugging at his lips. “I think it seems like an impeccably run establishment. Must have a very talented and capable manager.”
At this, I chuckled, “Ah yes, very talented and capable indeed.”
“And pretty. I get the sense that the manager is very pretty, too,” he went on, and I flushed, casting him a speculative glance.
“You’re in a good mood.” What I meant to say was he was in a ‘flirty, touchy-feely, gives excellent neck massages and turns me on an unsettling amount’ type of mood.
“Just happy to be sharing a drink with an old friend,” he answered back and I inhaled sharply at the hot look in his eyes.
“Listen, Conor, maybe I’m getting my signals wrong but—”
“You aren’t,” he interrupted, his elbow gently nudging mine. “I’m flirting with you, Yvonne.”
My pulse quickened as I frowned. “Right, well, maybe you shouldn’t.”
“Oh? You aren’t interested?” There was the faintest hint of challenge in his voice.
I swallowed thickly and noticed his gaze lower to my throat, then my lips, before finally rising to my eyes. “It’s not that—”
“So, you are interested?”
I made a small noise of frustration. “Can you let me speak?”
He chuckled low. “Of course. Go ahead.”
Another nervous swallow. Good Christ, what was wrong with me? I was flustered and it was all his fault for being so open and charming. So straight forward with his intentions. It would be refreshing if I didn’t have to turn him down right now.
I lifted my wine glass and took a shaky sip before setting it back down again. “Conor, I’m incredibly flattered by your attention, but it really would be selfish of me to start anything with you. I’m not the right…fit for you. You’d only be wasting your time. Time I’m sure would be much better spent finding a more suitable person to date.”
“What makes you think you aren’t suitable?” he asked, holding my gaze, his expression serious. “And please don’t say anything about an age gap because I don’t care about age. We’re both adults. It isn’t an issue.”
“Well, that’s not true,” I countered. “If you want children then it’s certainly an issue. You’re young and successful, have everything going for you. Honestly, Conor, I’d only hold you back.”
“Children? I’m not proposing marriage, Yvonne.”
I stared at him. “Then what are you proposing?”
He shifted closer, his knee touching mine as he lowered his mouth to my ear. “I’m proposing we spend some time together and see where things go. No pressure, just fun.”
I suppressed a tremble at his heated words and tried to compose myself. “Right, but that’s my point. Things wouldn’t be going anywhere. I have five failed past relationships to prove it. I’m terrible at being a girlfriend, Conor. I’m the worst. I work so much I’d never have any time for you. You’d soon realise that and I don’t want to go through the heartache of a breakup when that realisation inevitably comes.”