Read Online Not For Sharing (Romance with Sizzle) by Kenzi Costello - Free Book Online

begins
to snigger but flinches immediately, holding his chest in a sequence of
amusement and pain. The cycle continues, as the farce we find ourselves in
slowly dawns on us.
    “It’s your
fault anyway, you’ve turned me soft. I was undefeated though so that’s something
to smile about, and I mean smile , not laugh, whatever you do, don’t
laugh,” he says clutching at his chest again.
    “Then in
that case, it’s the most awesome, most romantic and the most dumbass thing
anyone has ever done for me. Oh wow, I can’t believe thatI’m actually going to Australia, and I’ll be
there with my favourite person in the world.”
    Ethan stares
at me, stony-faced. “Hey, I thought I’d warned that bastard to keep away from
you.”
    I lie beside
him and smother his face in kisses. “I mean you , you silly fool, thank-you,
thank-you, thank-you. I’m sorry for being such a cow yesterday, I don’t deserve
you.”
    I pray he
cannot hear the perplexing guilt etched in my words. A look of concern appears
on his face.
    “You’ve no
need to apologise,” he stresses, tucking my tangled hair behind my ear. “I
promise from now on that whatever doesn’t make you happy, I will fix.” His
voice is quiet and heart-rending, and he kisses me tenderly. I squeeze him
tight and melt into his arms, elated by his sentiment.
    My joy is
interrupted by the guilt of my imagined indiscretion, compounded by the fact
that Ethan is so bloody perfect. I’m not even sure how to articulate what has
just occurred.
    If one
falsely believes they are being unfaithful, is it still classed as infidelity?
    However, as I contemplate whether
I should reveal my secret to anyone, I recall a friend once advising another:
    ‘Confession may be good for
the soul, but it's often bad for the reputation.’
    So I
promptly dismiss the conundrum. That’s one for the philosophers, rather like
Descartes’s ‘if a tree falls down in a forest…’enigma.
    My shock dissipates
and I feel revived, like a phoenix from the flames. I realise our passion had
never really disappeared, just mislaid in the confusion. I take comfort from
his impassioned eyes, knowing that we are just like any other couple, bumbling
through love’s ups and downs and sometimes being lucky enough to meet in the
middle.
    So who cares
that I wouldn’t be doing ‘the walk of shame’ to shock my friends with? I had
just experienced something more precious, an unabashed lust for the man I had
tried so hard not to fall in love with, when it was quite simply unavoidable. I
leap up with a newly-found vitality, turn on the side-lamp and straddle his abs.
I notice a pair of jeans airing over the radiator, a familiar pair of jeans…aha,
it’s the red chino’s making their second appearance.
    “Why on earth are they damp?” I
ask with curiosity.
    “Uh…when your head was on my lap
in the taxi last night…”
    “Yes.”
    “Well, you
kinda threw up over them so I rinsed them out,” he says; and then in anticipation
of my horror, he quickly adds, “I never liked them anyway.”
    I bury my
head in my hands. I may, one day, be able to recall this night and smile
nostalgically. Although, not right now. Luckily for me, materialthings hold no value for Ethan, especially when
that material is covered in re-cycled cocktails .
    “Pru, you
were very entertaining, it was like watching a sexy Bambi learning to walk. Now
come out from behind there. I’m missing that beautiful face.”
    He always
knows how to make me feel wonderful, no matter what I do or say.
    “You know
for a moment earlier on, it was as if you were surprised to see me,” Ethan
comments casually, rubbing non-existent grit out of his eye; a displacement
gesture I believe it’s called in ‘body language’ terms.
    Oh God,
Oh God, Oh God, he knows....For Christ’s sake Pru, speak…say anything! I
can’t understand why I can’t just lie to him. It’s like I’m a child all over
again with my kindly father drawing out the truth from