Word has it that opposites attract. Jessica Keith would give the pithy expression two middle fingers because a wild party girl like her and the prim do-gooder, Matthew Parkinson are opposites hopeless to attract, let alone breathe the same air.
Howe...
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Jessica
Miles is tucked in bed hours ago and the house is eerily silent. If it wasn't for my unbudgeable craving for pizza, I would've been in bed, dreaming about island made out of donuts. I tiptoed around the house, a shopping bag on one arm. My cheeks seared at the thought of a shopping bag. Miles picked the wrong shopping bag. It should've been the overtop, feather boa I brought for my grandma's birthday. Or the silver, backless gown I planned on wearing to her party.
Anything! Just not the one that made me want to dig a hole on the ground to bury my face in. Life has this way of punishing me.
I flicked on the light in the living room. Since "everybody else" in the house is probably asleep, it's probably safe to be out of the confines of my bedroom. Just thinking about being in the same room with him again makes me want to bang my head against the wall. Just not now. I have to glue back together my shattered self-confidence.
I slumped down on the floor and began wrapping my gift, waiting for the pizza to arrive from that one pizza place who's mercifully open at this hour. And then I went to the kitchen to pour myself some wine. Two glasses later, I decided to grab the bottle and leave the glass in the kitchen.
Straight from the bottle it is.
I slipped back into the living room, gulping down wine only to choke right by the doorway because Matthew is sitting quietly on the sofa.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." He walks over to me, his hand going behind me and started rubbing my back.
Despite the fact that I was choking to death, I couldn't help but notice he's wearing a plain, white t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I think this is the most casual I've seen him look. When the coughs slowly subsided, I realized he was close and smelled nice.
Is that aftershave?
"Are you okay?" He asks, his hand still rubbing my back.
I swallowed hard. "Yeah. What are you doing?"
"Waiting for you."
"Oh," I blinked, "wait what? Why the hell would you wait for me?"
"I wanted to talk to you. I knocked at your bedroom and realized you were not there. I came in the living room and noticed your... stuff."
I stepped out of his proximity and walked inside. "I was just wrapping a gift."
"For whom?" He asks thoughtfully. Like it wasn't just making small conversation.
"My grandma."
He nods. And then there's was that look on his face.
I sighed. "No. I'm not giving her the lingerie."
His blue eyes broadened a bit. "I didn't say anything."
"Well, your face definitely said something." I clasped my hand around the bottle of wine and swallowed a couple of gulps.
