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was so often his wont. And, my God, when Jack
Whitby let himself be, he was one hell of a presence!
    His hand was
warm and firm and…absolutely huge! I don't know why I'd never
noticed before, but I might as well have had doll hands the way his
completely enveloped mine. They were nice, his hands, clean, well
cared for, but slightly rough in that 'I am man, man will not
moisturise' kind of way.
    Hmmm, was it my
imagination or was I getting tingles in the belly and warmth in my
cheeks? Christ! Jack, because he is neither stupid nor blind,
noticed my reaction and the slightest hint of a smile curled the
corners of his lips. Was he laughing at me? Surely my sweet Jack
didn't find my discomfort amusing? Although, now I think about it,
discomfort wasn't really what I was feeling...
    Just as I was
about to open my mouth and ask Jack what he was doing he leant down
until his mouth was close to my ear and his cheek was almost
resting against mine.
    "Lesson number
one," he said quietly, his voice, for some reason, making the
tingles in my belly shoot up in a burst towards my throat, "the
simplest touch can sometimes be the most effective."
    He pulled away,
but I stayed frozen. Seeing my stunned mullet impersonation he
really did smile. With a chuckle he released my hand and then
grabbed his bag off the floor.
    "See you later,
Tally," he called out over his shoulder, walking towards the door
and then exiting it with a final wave.
    As the door banged shut I finally relaxed. What the hell
had that been all
about? Getting that little bit of frission going with someone was
as simple as a handshake? Well that was easy! Why hadn't I managed
to figure that out before? Shaking my head to clear it of the last
bits of Jack-induced fuzziness I headed for the
bathroom.
    Better make
that shower a cold one.

Chapter 4
     
    For the rest of
the day I couldn't get lesson 1 out of my head.
    The simplest
touch can sometimes be the most effective? Well maybe when you have
hands like Jack’s, but I couldn’t see myself giving guys tingles in
their bellies with just a handshake. Do guys even get the tingles?
Whatever, all I can say is that Jack has a great talent.
    I arrived home
from work that night, thankful that the Thursday was over as I only
had one class on a Friday and no work, so it was basically the
weekend for me. I hadn't seen Brad at all throughout the day, but I
did have a lecture with Allison which had been a bit awkward.
    I'd been
looking forward to some lazing about in my pyjamas and maybe even
another 'lesson' from Jack when I got home. Unfortunately, I had
forgotten about 'the boys.'
    I know technically there are only five of them, but when they're all
together in a clump it seems like there are millions of the
buggers. There's always one in the loo, another rifling through the
fridge, two having a ridiculous argument, another three or so
challenging each other to a drinking competition and at least ten
others doing something they're not supposed to. Yes, I know that it
is not strictly possible, but it damn well seems like
it.
    As I entered
the flat they all looked up from the television and I was greeted
by a chorus of grunts which, in boy land, passed as a greeting. I
waved unenthusiastically in reply and headed to the kitchen for an
apple. Someone once told me that an apple is more effective than
coffee at waking you up and, since I hate coffee anyway, I've
chosen to believe them. Just as I was about to take a bite of the
wonderfully cold, crisp fruit (always keep apples in the fridge, no
matter what people tell you) the phone rang.
    "Phone's
ringing," Matt offered helpfully from the couch. This was his
ever-so-subtle way of saying that he wasn't going to be the one to
answer it. I made a face at him and picked up the receiver.
    "Hello?" I
greeted, eyeing my apple enviously. I could virtually see its
wonderful coldness seeping out.
    "Darling, did
you know that the Neanderthal's brain was bigger than modern
mans’?"
    I bit into