Wait For Me

Chapter 6.

         Goose bumps had begun to pucker my skin and the fair hairs on my arms stood on end as a cool draft swept in across my unshielded shoulders. The rough carpet dug into my back as I clung to his chest - Zach rested his warm hand on my bare waist, his shirt just managing to stretch across our bodies as a makeshift blanket. He was still panting. His body sheened with sweat and his hair stuck to his forehead, his eyes dark and hot with ardour. The familiar heat crawled up my neck and my cheeks set on fire when I recalled our fiery reunion. 

         "Lou. Lou. I fucking love you."

He had repeated over and over, my name like a frenzied prayer on his lips. 

I touched his collar bone with my fingertip, allowing myself to trace his skin and convince myself he was actually here. I still couldn't believe it. He watched hesitantly for a few seconds before rolling over so he was leaning on his elbows above me.

"Happy birthday." he grinned devillishly. 

"Shut up." I hissed, snatching his shirt and cocooning myself with it. He laughed, bending down to kiss my forehead. 

"My, my. Moody, aren't we?" he whispered as he curled a strand of my hair around his finger. "It seems you're getting grumpy with your old age."

"Old?" I whipped off my cocoon angrily, and he raised his eyebrows cheekily as he ran his gaze down my body. "Twenty one is not old. You must be at least thirty by now!"

He gasped dramatically, letting out a deep laugh. "I'm twenty eight!"

"Still pretty close. The big three-zero is nearing!" I joked, prodding his stomach. "You'll be bald with a beer belly soon enough." 

"I didn't know Phil was your type." he quipped, a smirk curving his lips as he pinned my wrists to floor above my head. 

"He isn't." I huffed. 

"So who is? The Scot?" he suddenly questioned, a serious tone in his voice. 

"What are you talking about?" I narrowed my eyes. 

"I saw the way you looked at him." he muttered as he moved away from me and rose to his feet, scooping his clothes up from the floor. He distanced himself to the other side of the room, shrugging on his clothes as I stared at him. 

"I don't understand what you're implying." I retorted, but I knew very well what he was thinking.

"What would your answer have been if I hadn't interrupted? Would you have gone out with him?" he shot his answers at me like harsh bullets, dragging his jeans up over his knees to his hips and fastening them with fumbling fingers. 

Where was this coming from?

"No! I would have said no. I don't like Lachlan like that!" I told him as I grabbed my underwear. Oh God, even I knew that tone in my voice was a complete lie.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself that?" he bit out, snatching his shirt and hauling it over his head. Before I could respond he laughed viciously. "Don't even answer."

"Zach listen to me-"

My half finished sentence was abandoned in the air as the doorhandle to my flat jolted. Who the hell was that? Lachlan? God, his timing could not be worse! It clicked fervently as I scrambled to dress myself. The ribbon at the back of my corset kept tangling in my hands and I almost screamed with annoyance, promising myself I will never wear such a fiddly thing again.