Page 71 of Resisting Mr Black
Art strolls into the kitchen, his black Under Armour t-shirt stuck to his upper body with sweat and black shorts glued to his toned, muscular legs. He runs a hand through his sweaty hair and places a hot kiss on the back of my neck. “Morning, beautiful.”
I stare down at my phone as he walks round the island and stands with his back to me, opening the fridge door. He looks like a gorgeous, sweaty fitness model and I need to focus to get the answers to the questions floating around in my head.
“Your friends visited while you were out,” I say.
“Friends?”
“Big Steve and Tara.”
A slight tension appears in his shoulders, but he remains silent staring into the fridge.
“He asked if you were going to be popping into work tonight.”
He pulls a carton of orange juice from out of the fridge door.
“Why would you be going to the gym on a Friday night?”
“Friday night’s boxing club. I’ve told you, sometimes things can get out of hand with some of the guys. Testosterone and all that.” He shuts the fridge door. “I’m going out with you tonight, so no, I’m not going.”
“He implied that you hadn’t told me something and that he was worried I was going to get hurt.” I hate the fact that I’m about to admit the next bit because it means I’ve allowed Tara to get under my skin. “In fact, they both said I didn’t really know you.”
He takes a swig of orange juice and turns around to face me, his dark eyes fixing me a look. “Firstly, Big Steve knows you’re not like the other women I’ve been with. He’s worried that I’m going to treat you the same way and hurt you, and I’m not. Secondly, Tara is just jealous of what we have.”
The coil of uneasiness in my stomach is slowly unravelling. “What don’t I know about you?”
He places the carton down on the counter and takes my hands in his. “We’ve agreed to share everything about ourselves, haven’t we?”
I look down and watch as he brushes his thumbs across the top of my knuckles. “Yes.”
“And I will, but it will just take time. Like it will take time for you. Do you trust me?”
I lift my eyes to find him staring down at me. More than anything. “Yes, I do.”
“And I trust you and that’s all that matters.”
He lets go of my hands and walks around the counter to where I’m sitting. I shriek in surprise as he slides his hands under my buttocks and lifts me up against his damp t-shirt. He might need a shower, but I’m not complaining.
“What are you doing?” I giggle, giving him a playful slap on the arm in mock protest. “You’re all sweaty.”
He flashes me a wolfish grin as he begins to carry me towards the bedroom. “And I’m about to get even sweatier.”
Twenty-One
My nerves are already frayed as Art parks up over the road from Carluccio’s and I’m beginning to think inviting him wasn’t one of my best ideas. Mum could barely contain her excitement when I’d called her earlier to tell her I’d be bringing him along. He’s the first guy I’ve introduced to them since Theo, and I’m really not sure how tonight’s going to go.
I glance anxiously through the passenger window at the restaurant with its green and white striped canopies hanging over each window. Whenever there’s a celebration or special birthday, Mum and Martin always come here and it’s now a tradition.
“It’s not going to be like Le Gavroche, you know.”
He frowns at me and looks mildly offended. “I’m not a snob.”
“I know, I know,” I say, fiddling with the hem of my green dress. “I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all.”
He rests his hand on top of mine in my lap. “Stop worrying. Relax. Everything will be fine. If anything, I should be the nervous one because this is the first time I’ve met The Parents.”
My eyes slide to him. “And are you?”
“Not at all.”