Michael Taylor was sure- he was in love with Lydia Saunders, even if she was engaged to someone else. He had been for years and no one else came close. Not until that kiss happened.
Suddenly, Lyanna Saunders- the woman he vowed to hate forever- was...
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I'm not one of those guys who is obsessed with sex. Ok, maybe when I was in my twenties and competing with Isaac, I might have been obsessed with it but since I entered my thirties and watched as most of my friends settled down, it felt less and less important in comparison to making an emotional connection with someone. That's not to say that it isn't important altogether but it just takes a backseat to getting to know a person.
That's how it's been over the past few weeks with Lyanna. We've been dating for a while and while we flirt and kiss and stuff, we haven't gone beyond some over the clothes touching and maybe my wandering hand sliding up under her shirt. Everything leads to nowhere. It's frustrating.
I'm too scared to tell Lyanna all this because what if she thinks I'm like all the other jerks out there and that I've just been using her for sex? I know she has trust issues; she's never outrightly come out and said that but I've seen the way she sometimes catches herself when she feels like she's said too much or opened herself up too much and she starts to shut down. I don't want her to think that I'm like that. I don't want her to shut me out because whether I like it or not, I'm far too emotionally involved to ever let her go. I'll not only lose Lyanna, but I'll also lose Max and as silly as it sounds, I'm not prepared to lose him either.
"This wedding- the second one that's just for show- what exactly am I supposed to pack?" Lyanna asked as I met her from work. It's Friday afternoon and Max is with his father until Monday afternoon, meaning that Lyann and I are alone for the weekend. I've booked for us to go away until Sunday but I've yet to land that one on her because it's a surprise. I've yet to work out if she likes surprises but I'm going to guess that she probably doesn't. Closing the passenger door of my car, Lyanna buckles up and turns to look at me, a frown between her forehead. "I mean, is it a casual affair or do I need to dress up? Will Ted Baker do or is this more a Dolce and Gabbana type of wedding?"
I laugh. "Wear whatever makes you feel comfortable, Lyanna. I want you to have fun while you're there. Now, I have something else I want to-"
"Maybe Emilia Wickstead or Jenny Packham would be better, you know?" She continues to say, lost in her own thoughts. Twirling a strand of hair around her finger, she bites down on her lips and shakes her head, the smell of her perfume wafting in my direction. Feeling intoxicated, I reach over and grip her knee. "What's up?"
