I walk back into my bedroom and shut the door behind me, leaning my head against the wood. My heart is pounding. I can feel myself getting hard under my jeans.
Jesus.
I haven’t been this turned on in a long time. Years, probably. Behind my eyelids, the vision of Layla pressed up against the wall flickers in technicolour. I can still see her melting against Josh. Kissing him hard. Moaning as he kisses down her neck, her cleavage practically spilling out of her low neckline. My balls throb, and I run a hand over my eyes.
I need to get myself together. She’s my neighbour, for God’s sake.
My phone bleeps in my pocket. I pull it out, swallowing a groan when I see Amy’s number. I’ve been ignoring her messages for months now. Ever since I got her first wedding invite shoved into my letterbox. I didn’t know what to respond, so I’ve just been putting off answering.
AMY: The wedding is in five weeks, and you haven’t RSVP’d. I need an answer today. Are you coming, and are you bringing a plus one.
AMY: My mum is gonna think it’s some massive drama if you don’t come.
I sigh. I want to go to my ex-wife’s wedding about as much as I want to get shot in the head. But she’s right; people will only gossip more if I refuse to attend. Besides, Josh and Zack will both be going. It’ll look weird if I don’t make it.
LUKE: I’m coming. No plus one.
Then, before she can reply, I switch off my phone, closing my eyes.
I’m happy for Amy. Really. We divorced almost ten years ago. Any bad blood is gone. I just wish she’d stay out of my life. Which will be a lot more difficult after the wedding, since she’s marrying Josh’s older brother.
I suppose it kind of is my fault. She met Josh’s brother Rob at a Three Single Guys liveshow. We brought them together. And now they’re getting married, I’ll probably have to see her a Hell of a lot more. I’m not looking forward to it.
There’s a knock on the door, and I step back as Zack pushes into the room. He squints at me standing alone in the dark, then laughs loudly.
“Man, you are so screwed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I flick the lights on and drop my phone onto the bed, walking over to my desk and picking up a stack of printed listener emails.
Zack leans in the doorway, watching me. “You’re blushin’.”
“I am not.”
“You are.” He tilts his head. “You know she’d let you join, right? She likes you.”
“Who?” I say, flipping mindlessly through the papers.
He sighs. “Don’t play dumb, Luke. Layla. She likes you. And you obviously want to join in, so…”
“I don’t,” I cut him off. “You’re being ridiculous. I’m ten years older than the girl. I used to be her teacher.”
“Yup,” Zack says unhelpfully. “That’s pretty hot. Bet she had a schoolgirl crush on you. Bet she wrote your name all over her notebooks in class…”
My stomach twists. I slap the papers back down onto the desk with too much force. “Yes,” I emphasise. “A schoolgirl crush. Because when I was a married adult with a full-time job, she was a teenage girl. I’m not going to kiss her, that’s disgusting.”
Zack’s face darkens. “She’s not a teenage girl anymore, dumbass. She’s a woman. She’s pushing thirty. She’s your friend. She wants help, and we’re giving it to her. Quit acting like we’re doing something wrong because of your weird guilt complex.” He slams out of the room, leaving me standing alone, my head reeling.
