Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,67

grin.

I snort, glad for the attempt to break the heaviness. ‘Yeah, no one is coming out in this snow.’ I look across at the frozen lake.

I hear his boots crunching towards the door.

‘Oh, but, Phoebe?’.

I turn just in time to get assaulted with a snow ball to the face. Icy shards of snow trickle down the front of my top, stinging my skin.

‘Oh my god, you bastard!’ I can’t believe he just did that. And so soon after apologising.

He doubles over laughing. Well, I’ll show that dickhead. I quickly bend down and scoop up a handful, chucking it at him. It breaks up in the air before it even gets close to him. Damn.

He smirks. ‘You’re gonna have to do better than that, Poodles.’

‘Ugh!’ I scream. ‘I hate when you call me poodles.’

I bend down to collect more snow, but then he’s behind me and shoving snow down the back of my jeans.

‘Hey, pervert!’ I jump up and down on the spot in an attempt to get it down and off me. Goose pimples rise all over my body. So, so cold.

I quickly scoop more snow and run over to him. He’s still trying to make one so I take the opportunity to throw it close range. I won’t take any chances this time.

The snow hits him in the face. His shock is hilarious, only then I realise I’m slipping. I grab onto him to steady myself but just end up bringing him down on top of me.

His chest thuds onto mine like a brick.

‘Oooh!’ I huff, scrunching my eyes up at the pressure weighing down on me.

‘Shit, are you okay?’

I open my eyes to find him staring down at me with such concern in those piercing forest green eyes that my whole body tingles, and not just from the freezing snow.

He looks down at my lips. I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing. That he’s touched me in intimate places but never actually kissed me on the lips.

I will him to kiss me, my chest heaving up and down with the struggle to breathe. I can’t seem to do any basic function around him; breathe, talk. It all turns to mush when he’s looking at me like that, with the promise of more.

He finally lowers his lips, hesitating for two heart beats before merging them with mine. My brain screams in celebration. Clooney is kissing me! His lips are welcoming and warm against our cold bodies. He opens our mouths and strokes his tongue against mine.

Jesus. How can this feel more erotic than him finger banging me in the bath? It makes no sense, but damn, this tongue. His dances with mine like we’ve done this for years, while one of his hands goes into my hair and the other cradles my head, like I’m a delicate flower that needs to be cherished.

He pulls back slowly, almost begrudgingly. The second his lips leave mine I feel bereft. Bereft, cold and awkward.

He smiles down at me, biting his bottom lip. Damn, he’s fine. How have I got such a beauty to kiss me?

Quick Phoebe, think of something to say. Anything at all would be good. Just say something.

‘So… you like to gamble?’

Shit, Phoebe, really? That’s what you choose to say at this moment?

It’s like his walls come crashing down. His face falls and mistrust lights his eyes. Just when I was making some progress.

‘Who told you that?’ he demands, his jaw rigid.

He removes his hands from me and pushes himself up. So it’s true? Why else would he react so badly?

‘Err, no-one. I just noticed you were gambling on your phone the other day.’ I don’t even know why I said that. Verbal diarrhoea is pouring from my mouth right now. Someone get me an Imodium.

‘You were going through my phone?’ He practically spits in disgust.

I stand up, feeling awful. My gut is telling me to run away and hide. He’s furious. How could I have been feeling so good just moments before. Why did I have to go and ruin it again? I wrap my arms around myself, needing the comfort.

‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything.’

His eyes turn cold. I don’t recognise him at all like this. ‘No, you shouldn’t have. My private life is just that; private. You’re way out of line.’ He turns and storms into the pub.

‘I’m sorry,’ I call after him feebly. But it’s too late. He’s gone and the damage has been done.

Well done, Phoebe.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Thursday 22nd October

By the next evening we’re crazy