Nanny for the Neighbors: Chapter 19

Later that evening, I curl up on the sofa, watching Cami sleep. It’s almost nine o’clock. I know I should go home, but I just can’t bring myself to. I want to see Sebastian again before I leave. To make sure we’re on okay terms, and he’s not just going to step back into the flat and immediately fire me.

I really need this job. If I get fired, I’m absolutely screwed. I’ll have to move out. I’ll probably have to sell all my stuff, too. I won’t even be able to afford a storage unit.

Just the thought floods me with anxiety. I’ve spent the whole afternoon and evening a nervous wreck, although I’ve managed to channel most of the stress into housework. Sebastian certainly can’t complain about the mess now; I’ve tidied away all of Cami’s toys, hoovered, cleared the countertops, done the dishes, and even cleaned the kitchen. The flat is sparkling. So he can’t be mad anymore, right?

I stiffen when I hear a key in the lock. The front door pushes open, and Sebastian steps inside. He looks exhausted: his tie is hanging loose around his throat, and his collar is unbuttoned. He shuts the door behind him and blinks, confused, around the room.

I know immediately that I’ve messed up. I’ve taken it too far. He’s weirded out. What kind of loser gets shouted at by their boss, and responds by deep-cleaning his house?

His eyes finally alight on me. He looks stunned. “Beth—”

I stand up, forcing a smile onto my face. “Cami took a while to get to sleep. She’s just dropped off now.” I head to the front door, slipping on my shoes. “She only ate about half of her dinner, so don’t be surprised if she needs an extra feed in the night.”

He doesn’t say anything, staring around the room with wide eyes. I lace up my converse, then straighten. “Well. See you tomorr—”

“Beth.” He grasps my wrist, and I freeze. “You didn’t have to do all this. You’re not a housekeeper. I just didn’t want all the stuff on the floor.”

I nod, not looking at him.

He frowns, loosening his grip. “Beth, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I just… mess stresses me out. And those papers were really important.”

I yank my hand free. “She’s a baby,” I say, my voice coming out sharper than I intended. “Babies make messes.”

His mouth falls open. He looks completely taken aback. I grab my keys from the dish by the door and cast one look back at Cami. “See you tomorrow,” I mutter.

He nods, and I leave.

The next day is miserable. The guys mostly stay out of my way, although I notice Jack tossing me some concerned looks. Every time our eyes meet, I remember his lips on mine. His hands on my cheeks. His blush as he told me, I have a crush on you.

God. Why do I have to make everything so bloody complicated? This is the first time I’ve had a steady job in over a year, and I’ve already snogged one boss, and fought with another. It’s like I want to be unemployed and starving.

I try to just focus on keeping my head down and getting my work done, but it’s a struggle. By the time my shift is over, I’m so flustered and stressed out that I can’t handle it anymore. So, I do what I always do when I need advice: I tuck myself up in bed and call Benny.

Unfortunately, he’s not very helpful. In fact, he mostly seems to find the situation funny.

“Wait, wait. Your neighbor kissed you, and you ran to hide in the loo?” he squawks down the line.

“Stop laughing!” I demand. “It’s not a joke.”

“Yeah, okay, Sister Ellis. Don’t get your wimple in a twist.”

“You think I’m being dumb?” I ask, incredulous. “You know I don’t date!”

“Yes, and I respect your decision to remain single. But I don’t know where you got the idea that kissing equals dating. What are you, a fifth-grader? If you hold his hand, do we have to plan a wedding ceremony for you both in the playground? Can I please be the flower boy? I’ll make you a dandelion bouquet and chuck leaves at you as you walk down the aisle.”

I consider this for a few moments, my heart sinking. “I’ve overreacted, haven’t I?”

“The boy you fancied kissed you, and you ran away like he was a murderer,” he says cheerfully. “I’d say that you did, yeah.”

I groan, flopping back onto my bed and plucking at my quilt. “It’s just… he said that he had a crush on me—” I break off as Benny wolf-whistles deafeningly, directly into the receiver, “Yes, okay, thank you—and I’ve fancied him for ages.”

“So, what? You think you won’t be able to snog the man without falling for him? I think this is a good thing. If you don’t want a boyfriend, ease yourself into it. Go on some dates. Kiss some faces. Have casual sex. You won’t be this pretty forever.”

“Thanks.” Guilt churns in my stomach as I remember Jack’s worried expression this morning. Benny’s right. Running away from the kiss was dumb, and avoiding him afterwards was honestly downright mean. Damn it. “I think it’s kinda too late now, anyway,” I sigh. “The ship has sailed.”

“No it hasn’t. Drag the ship back. Anchor it in your harbour. Then shag it.” I pull a face. There’s some rustling noises, and I hear a muffled shout in the background. “I’ve gotta go now. Thanks for making me feel better about my own shitty sex life. In comparison to you, I’m Hugh Hefner.”

“You’re welcome?”

“You’re still on for Friday night, yeah? I need to buy tickets for the club before they sell out.”

“Sure.”

“Sweet. Love you.” He hangs up. I drop the phone onto my stomach and lie there, staring up at the ceiling.

I’m such a loser.

I spend most of Thursday morning working out a new routine for Cami. Since Sebastian apparently can’t handle mess, the activities we can do together are quite limited. During tummy time, I lay out a mat in the middle of the floor, then we both sit and survey her toy boxes.

“What do you fancy today?” I ask Cami, bouncing her on my knee. “Remember, nothing messy.”

She reaches for the blocks, flopping over in my lap. She loved playing with them the other day. We built a whole city, and then I held her up while she stomped through it, sending all of the soft cubes flying like some kind of baby Godzilla. I don’t think I’ve seen her laugh so much since I’ve met her. It was so relieving to see her let loose and have some real fun. It was a milestone: it meant, despite her complete shift in environment, that she now felt safe enough here to relax completely.

But of course, her dad didn’t see it like that. All he saw was the mess in his way, and the disruption to his work. I do feel bad that he tripped, but he came running out of his room without looking where he was going. What did he expect?

Honestly, if he was any other parent, I would probably just play normally and make sure that the clutter was cleaned up before he got home. But I’m worried. Since he got Cami, I haven’t seen Seb make one move to touch her of his own initiative. I’m so scared he’ll get mad and decide to send her away.

Cami babbles, grabbing at the pink cubes, and I sigh, shaking my head. “Nope,” I tell her cheerfully, reaching for a big light-up ball. “If you dad comes out of his room and sees you playing with those again, he’ll probably fire me.”

Cami’s face crumples. My heart hurts. I pull her up to my chest and smush her against me. “Don’t cry, baby. You’ve got lots of toys to play with. Look!” I show her a rattle, shaking it around.

She reaches for the blocks again, and I sigh, moving them out of sight. “We can’t, honey. Some other time.”

She doesn’t like this, and we spend most of tummy time with her being incredibly fussy, crying and smacking the crinkly play mat with her hands. Eventually, I just give up and heft her back up into my arms. “Maybe you just need a nap,” I mutter. I pop her down in her cot, then pick up the room and get to work on the dishes, cleaning up the remnants of her lunch. I’ve just settled down with a cup of tea when Jack emerges from his room, rubbing his eyes. He smiles at me weakly. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I say, suddenly nervous. “Um. Kettle’s boiled, if you want some.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” He makes his own cup, then stands awkwardly by the couch. “Can I join you?”

“It’s your sofa.”

He nods and sits down. I steel myself. Now is the perfect moment. I need to come clean and apologise. I take a deep breath.

“I’m sorry,” we both say simultaneously.

He frowns. “Wait, what? What are you sorry for?”

I bite my lip. “For avoiding you yesterday. For not speaking to you after… what happened in the coffee shop. It was immature.”

He shakes his head fiercely. “You have nothing to apologise for. It was my fault. I shouldn’t have kissed you.” He grimaces. “I can get stuck in my head sometimes. I’m not always the best at reading other people. So if I read any signals wrong, I am so, so sorry. It’ll never happen again. I—”

“I have a crush on you, too,” I blurt out, cutting him off.

I don’t plan on saying it. The words just fall out of my mouth without approval from my brain. I snap my jaw shut as he stares at me, his blue eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, what?”

I set down my mug. My heart is beating so fast I can feel my pulse in my skin. “You don’t need to apologise, Jack. And you didn’t misread any signals. I really, really like you. I’ve, um, fancied you for a long time as well, if we’re being honest.”

He looks at me like he can’t believe a word I’m saying. “But you seemed so upset yesterday.”

“Yeah. It was nothing to do with you, though. I promise.” I twist my fingers together. “I’m sorry I ran away. I just freaked out, I guess. I don’t really do relationships.”

“It was just a kiss,” he says softly. “I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything serious. I swear, I wasn’t trying to trick you into a date by taking you to the cafe and paying for your drink. Shit, I guess it kind of looked like that, huh?”

I shake my head. “I overreacted. You have nothing to be sorry for. I actually,” I swallow down my pride, embarrassment flooding through me. “I really enjoyed the kiss. You know. Before I ran away.”

He blinks, surprised. “You did?”

My cheeks flush. “Yeah.”

“Seriously?”

“Yup.”

“Oh.” He turns and looks out of the window. “Huh.”

He’s silent for a long time. I squirm in my seat, wishing that I was anywhere else. Eventually, he clears his throat.

“So you don’t do relationships.”

“Nope.”

He looks at me sideways. “But do you date casually? No-strings-attached?”

My stomach flutters. “I could,” I say, trying to play it cool. “Maybe. If there was a guy I liked enough.”

His mouth quirks. He leans in slightly, so our arms are brushing together. My blood thumps through me. Holy shit. He’s flirting with me. He wasn’t turned off by me being a socially awkward weirdo after all. “If I kissed you again,” he says slowly, “would you run and hide in the loo? Because the lock is kind of tricky. Don’t want you getting stuck in there.”

“Dunno,” I whisper. “Try it and see.” My hands are sweating.

His smile widens. He reaches out to cup my face, giving me time to pull away.

I don’t. I press into his touch. His lashes dip. Very tentatively, he leans forward, brushing his mouth over mine.

I kiss him back, hard.

He responds instantly, wrapping a hand around my neck and pulling me closer, crushing our lips together fully. I twist a hand in his shirt and soften against him.

The kiss goes from zero to one hundred, fast. Months’ worth of pent-up frustration is heating up my body, lighting me up like fire under my skin. His big hands slide around my waist, and we both rock into each other. My fingers stroke under the hem of his t-shirt, and he shudders, the muscles in his chest tensing.

“Beth—” He gasps against my mouth. “I—”

A wolf-whistle pierces the air, and we both yank apart as the flat’s front door bangs open.