Tiger clearly heard it too, as he put his palms out to her. ‘I know, I know. I’m sorry. I was joking. Of course, I don’t expect. I wouldn’t . . .’
Angie nodded reluctantly. ‘I know. It’s just . . . Well, I like this bloke, Jax, it feels different to the others, kind of special, you know?’ It sounded so cheesy, even to her.
‘Is he some form of demigod?’ Tiger asked. ‘Or has he put you under a spell? You going all soppy over a bloke! Who are you and what have you done with the real Angie Osborne?’
‘Don’t be such a dick, Tiger,’ she said. ‘He’s nice, that’s all. And the whole world doesn’t revolve around you, you know. Stuff happens whilst you’re busy floating about the planet without a care.’
Tiger’s face fell and Angie wondered whether she might have gone too far, but then he rallied.
‘Well. I’m chuffed for you,’ he said. ‘I really am. It’s about time you found someone special.’
He wrinkled his nose in a way that reminded her of when he was eighteen, and the tension that had settled on them dissipated. Resigned to what would be, Angie helped herself to one of the beers from the fridge and sat down on top of him.
18
They were just into their third beer each when the doorbell rang again. By that time, Angie had almost forgotten that she had been waiting for Jax and her first response to the bell was a mild irritation that someone was disturbing them. And then she remembered.
She got up hastily, flattening her hair with her palms and rearranging her clothes.
‘Do I look okay?’ she asked Tiger.
‘You look hot!’ he replied. And then, ‘I don’t mean hot as in too warm. I mean hot as in . . .’
Angie nodded. ‘I got it. Thanks. Could you, er . . . ?’ She cocked her head at his prone position.
‘Oh, yeah. Don’t want to look as if I live here. Might give your man the wrong impression. What’s his name, anyway?’
‘I told you. Jax,’ Angie said.
‘Jax? Isn’t that a girl’s name?’ said Tiger as he levered himself into a sitting position.
‘It’s short for Jackson,’ replied Angie. ‘And could you do something with those?’ she added, nodding at the empty bottles as she flew towards the stairs.
‘Yeah. Right,’ said Tiger vaguely.
At the front door, Angie gave herself a second to compose herself. She sucked her lips in and took a deep breath, which she released slowly as her head cleared. Then she opened the door.
She had forgotten how sexy she found Jax. Well, not forgotten exactly, but he still made her head and her stomach spin a little when she first saw him. He was taller than her but not tall, and his nut-brown hair hung around his shoulders in soft spirals. He had those eyes that look like melted chocolate, too. It was his eyes that did for her every time. Come-to-bed eyes, he’d once told her they were, the cocky so-and-so.
‘Oh God, it’s so good to see you. I thought you’d never get here. It’s been like torture waiting for you.’
He opened his arms and she fell into him, his arms closing around her and squeezing her tight. She could smell the cut-grass scent of outside on his jacket, and beneath that, his own earthy aroma.
‘Hi, baby,’ he said. ‘You missed me then?’
Angie nodded into his shoulder and stood, enjoying his physical presence until he gently pushed her away from him.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in?’ he asked.
‘Yes, sorry. Come in, come in. But an old mate from my travelling days has just turned up unannounced. He does this from time to time. His timing is awful. I’m really sorry but I’ll get rid of him tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’ said Jax, disappointment thick in his voice.
‘I know. It’s a bummer, but he’s only just got back to the UK and he’s got nowhere to go. I’ll sort it, though. I promise.’
Jax sighed, a slightly impatient sound tinged with irritation, but he didn’t complain as he followed her up the stairs to the flat.
Angie was pleased to see that Tiger had indeed moved the bottles, tucked his rucksack behind the sofa and was sitting cross-legged on the floor when they walked in. He stood up at once, proffering a hand to Jax who took it and shook it.
‘Hi. Sorry about this, mate,’ he said. ‘I had no idea Ange would be entertaining. But look, I can get out of your hair. Where’s this pub that you mentioned, Ange?’
‘Don’t worry, mate,’ replied Jax. ‘No need to race out on my account.’