Kissed in Paradise (Valentine's Inc. Book 9)

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Kissed in Paradise (Valentine's Inc. Book 9) Page 4

by Crystal Lacy


  I poke her in the side. “Shut up. I’m not a sad single. I’m an adequately content single.”

  “Fine, be a not-sad single. Whatever happened to solidarity?”

  “How ’bout you show solidarity for me by not being sad instead? That sounds like a much better plan. And I wasn’t finished with my story.”

  “My bad. Continue.”

  I take a steadying breath, trying to the follow the thread of my story. Right. “It turns out he went to my high school. Back in North Carolina.”

  “Wow,” says Bridge. “Small world.”

  “Small fucking world.” My tone is almost vicious. “Too small. Small enough he also happens to be one of the guys I crushed on.”

  Bridge turns, dislodging me from her shoulder, to stare me in the face. “Math club president?”

  “Nope.”

  “The guy from the track team?” she tries again.

  “Nah.”

  She lets out a gasp. “W-T-F. Locker room dude?”

  I cringe. “Do you have to call him that?” Cary was far from the only guy I’d crushed on in high school, but he was always the one who got away. The nice one I thought I might’ve had a chance with, if only he were gay.

  “You’ve got to admit, it’s got some poetry, does ‘locker room dude.’ But that’s besides the point. The point is: locker room dude?”

  “Yeah. Turns out he’s not straight. And I kissed him. Or he kissed me. We kissed each other.”

  “Wow,” Bridge repeats. “One afternoon with my phone on silent and this is what I miss? Also, are you supposed to be doing that? The kissing?”

  “Often it’s negotiated. Like if a client wants me to pretend to be their boyfriend. Usually it’s just hand-holding, hair-stroking, that kind of thing. One guy sat on my lap for an entire evening while we had a Thanksgiving dinner at his Republican parents’ place.”

  “Your job is awesome.”

  “I know.” And kissing Cary was awesome. But I really shouldn’t have done it.

  “But that’s not what I meant when I asked if you’re supposed to be doing that,” she continues, voice stern. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes, you do. Because the last time you did it, you told me to tell you never to do it again.”

  I sigh and pull the blanket further over me. “You haven’t told me that yet.”

  I feel rather than see her shrugging, shoulders brushing against mine. “Maybe it won’t be like last time,” she says carefully.

  I scoff. “Because I’ve learnt from my mistakes? Not gonna put my stupid heart on the line again for anyone who just wants a good fuck?”

  “Yeah, let’s go with that.” Bridget pulls me into a hug. “You really like this guy.”

  I always liked him, from that first moment we met in third grade. We were never close, but I always took comfort in the fact Cary was a decent guy. He was one of the good ones. And now. Now, I know what his career goals are, what foods he likes, what kind of music he has on his playlist. I know what his mouth tastes like, too.

  “How can you tell?”

  Another shrug. “Your lips says ‘my heart is stupid’ and ‘I shouldn’t have done it,’ but your face says ‘kissing him is awesome’ and ‘I’m fucking happy about it.’”

  Fuck, that really does sum it all up. I let out a sigh and sink into our hug. “Just hold me until I feel less like a dumbass, will you?”

  “Sure.”

  We stay still for a while, Bridge’s familiar warmth anchoring me, making it easier for me to filter my thoughts. Mostly those thoughts consist of Cary and my inability to stay at all objective about him. It’s like my crush from high school never disappeared. It’s grown instead, and now is so gigantic it’s too huge for me to hang onto.

  “Bridge?”

  “Mm?”

  “I’ve got rules in place for a reason. Last time I broke them it didn’t turn out well.”

  “I remember.”

  “Bridge.”

  “Yeah, sweetie?”

  I whisper the words because maybe if I don’t say them out loud they won’t really count. “I want to break the rules for him.”

  But I won’t. Nothing that happened with Cary has been real. Our time together is limited to the days I’ve been paid to spend with him. He’s leaving to go back to his life in less than a week.

  I’m not going to break the rules for him.

  Chapter Five

  Cary

  I almost expected Fei to avoid talking to me after the awkwardness of the night before, but I wake up to a text on my phone, asking me to let him know when I’ll be ready for snorkeling.

  Cary: I can be ready in half an hour.

  Fei: Meet you at the hotel bar? Bring a change of clothes and dress to swim.

  I set the phone down and go to get ready for an excursion, my pulse picking up at the thought of being near Fei again after last night. After that kiss.

  After Fei left last night, I hauled myself to bed and lay there jerking my cock, thinking of his tongue in my mouth and his hands on me. Now, stepping into the shower to rinse off before meeting him, I consider touching myself again, just to take the edge off so I can see him without sprouting wood.

  But then I’d have to face him after having jacked off to him twice in 24 hours.

  I spend so much time debating and not actually doing that I have to rush out the door by the time the half hour runs out. At the hotel bar, Fei’s drinking a soda on one of the stools, wearing a sleeveless T-shirt and a pair of swim trunks that show off his toned calves. He’s sitting with his back toward me, so I take a moment to admire him. His body’s all compact grace, and I’m already imagining how those clothes will look clinging to him when we’re in the water.

  God, don’t be such a perv, Cary.

  My heart thumps with nerves as I approach him. We’re going to have to talk about last night, and I don’t have the luxury of being tipsy with alcohol to soften the impact of his inevitable rejection.

  To my surprise, Fei only turns and smiles at me when I utter a tentative greeting.

  “Hungover at all today?” he asks, grinning at me. “Did you have breakfast?”

  So I guess we aren’t going talk about what happened last night. Which is fine by me right now. I haven’t been able to process my jumble of thoughts and feelings about Fei yet. I shake my head. “Don’t really get hangovers. No to breakfast too.” The second statement I say a little sheepishly. “Does that mess with your plans?”

  “Nah. Not if you’re okay with stopping by a drive-thru somewhere.”

  We pick up McDonald’s on our way to the spot one of Fei’s friends has recommended, a half hour’s drive from the hotel. Fei offers me the cable to plug my phone in, and we spend most of the drive flipping through songs on my playlists, with Fei making periodic comments about the song or the lyrics. It’s an easy way to pass the time, and while the tension between us hasn’t disappeared, I can ignore it for a while as we laugh and sing along to my favorite songs. I almost don’t want the drive to end when we finally stop.

  “Anything in particular you want to see?” Fei asks, opening the trunk to pull out the snorkeling gear he’s borrowed from someone for the occasion.

  “Fish? I should probably have looked it up so I know what I’m looking at, huh?” The words make me realize I didn’t bring my camera—not that it would make a difference, since neither my camera nor the phone are waterproof. “Shit.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t have anything to photograph the fish. Or whatever the hell we end up seeing down there.”

  To my surprise, Fei grins. He pulls out a plastic bag from the trunk and holds it up. “Disposable waterproof cameras. I stopped by the ABC Store for them just in case. Not very high tech, but they’ll do in a pinch.”

  “Saved the day again. Man, I could kiss you.”

  I realize what I’ve said as soon as the last word leaves my mouth, and I almost cringe outwardly. “Uh
. I mean. I… thank you.”

  Fei accepts the verbal fumbling without much reaction, nodding and muttering a “You’re welcome” as he checks our inventory of snorkeling gear.

  I’m contemplating whether I want to segue into a conversation about last night since kissing has come up, so I don’t notice Fei taking his shirt off and tossing it into the trunk until he slams the trunk shut. When I look up at him, though, his shirt is most definitely not there.

  I’m confronted by smooth, golden skin that looks like he spends every weekend frolicking in the sun. I’ve already seen the arms, but now there’s the impressive sight of Fei’s well-defined torso, hard pecs and abs on full display for me.

  Fei says something and looks at me expectantly, but I haven’t heard what it was he said. Fuck. I feel myself flushing up to my roots. “Come again?”

  Lips quirked in amusement, he repeats himself. “Want to leave your shirt here?”

  “Sure.” I pull my T-shirt off, feeling oddly self-conscious as Fei’s eyes roam over my body, just as appreciative as they were in the hotel room yesterday. Not for the first time this trip, I’m glad I kept up with weight training and workouts even after college football. Fei’s admiration warms me, giving me the confidence to let my own eyes linger on him.

  “You’re good for my ego,” Fei tells me as we make our way toward the water, snorkeling gear in hand. It’s late enough that there are a few groups already in the shallows: parents with their kids, a lone swimmer hauling a bucket, a man and woman cuddling up a few meters away, two heads bobbing in the water.

  What would it be like to feel Fei’s body against mine in the water, my hands slipping over his wet skin?

  I snatch my mind away from that thought because swim trunks are not going to hide anything if I get hard now perving on Fei. And there are kids around.

  “So you know how to use all this stuff?” I ask Fei, and focus on his explanations on how to use the snorkeling gear.

  “I have a few friends who’re into it. It’s relaxing. Easy to do if you don’t feel like surfing or kayaking.” He says it like it’s no big deal to regularly do stuff like snorkeling, surfing, and kayaking. “Before we head on in, we should apply sunscreen. Like. All over. It’s easy to get burnt to a crisp in the water without realizing it after an hour or two.”

  From the same plastic bag the cameras came in, Fei pulls out a bottle of spray-on sunscreen. My mind travels to the bottle of regular sunscreen I spied in the trunk when Fei had it open earlier. Did Fei purposefully get this so he wouldn’t have to touch me? So I wouldn’t touch him? That’s a lowering thought.

  But when we get near the water, Fei instructs me to spin around so he can do my back. The spray hits my skin, pleasantly cool and smelling of coconuts, and then there’s Fei’s hand, hot on my back as he rubs it into me. Damn, that feels better than it should.

  “Do me too?”

  He’s already turned around, which is a good thing because it means he can’t see the dazed look on my face as my hand glides over his back, smooth and tan and muscled underneath my fingers. Don’t get hard, don’t get hard, don’t get hard.

  Thankfully, the thought of how awkward it would be to have Fei see me with a rager in my swim trunks when he turns around does manage to quell the fire in my loins. My face must still convey something to him, though, because his lips quirk into that small amused smile when he looks up at me.

  “Ready for the water?”

  I nod, wondering if the sun’s already getting to me, because I feel flushed all over. “Ready.”

  The water’s surprisingly warm when we wade in. It’s amazing when we finally go under, the already gorgeous green-blue around us enhanced by the goggles, my vision going clear and bright with color.

  Fei nudges me with a hand on my arm to guide me toward a cluster of coral reef to our right. It feels intimate, that touch underwater, no sound but the rush of water in my ears and my own breathing through the mouth piece. And Fei’s face is paler in the water, blue-cast, his wet hair floating in a halo around his head. Even the snorkeling mask can’t seem to take away from how utterly beautiful he looks like this.

  He points to a school of tiny striped fish as they pass us on their path underneath an outcropping of coral directly beneath us. I stare at the beauty surrounding me, not the least of which is Fei, strong legs kicking, strong hand closing around my wrist as he leads me farther away from shore.

  “We’re gonna need more sunscreen soon if you want to stay any longer.” Fei rakes his gaze over my back, a slight frown tilting his lips. “Probably should’ve picked something with a higher SPF.”

  After nearly an hour of snorkeling, we went back to shore and deposited our gear with the rest of our stuff on a beach towel, then went back in. Now we’re under the shade of a boulder, our toes sunk into the sand, just floating and enjoying the water.

  “Yeah, I could stay a while longer. If you don’t— Ah, holy shit!” I nearly slip when I feel something crawl up one of the legs of my swim trunks. In one quick motion, I yank the trunks down, wriggling in the water to make sure whatever it was hasn’t latched onto anything.

  “The fuck?” Fei exclaims. His eyes are wide as saucers as he peers into the water--directly at my still half-exposed dick.

  “Shit, sorry!” I pull the waistband of my trunks up again, covering myself. “Something swam up there.”

  “Like… a fish?”

  “Something.”

  His initial astonishment at my fit over with, Fei now has a deeply amused crinkle to his eyes. His voice trembles with laughter as he speaks. “Be thankful we’re not in Africa. I’ve read they have fish there that crawl up your—”

  “Nope. Never going to Africa.”

  He’s laughing outright now, and I’m torn between satisfaction at being the person to make him laugh and indignation that he’s laughing at me. “If I knew it was so easy to get you out of your pants, Cary…”

  ’Kay, yeah, screw indignation. “You would’ve tried to, in high school? If you knew I was so easy?” Because hell yes, I can be easy now. So, so easy.

  All of a sudden, Fei’s laughter isn’t quite so full of humor. “Do you remember me in high school, man?” And then the laughter dies abruptly. Color rushes to his face.

  Oh, hell, is he blushing?

  I clear my throat. “Yeah, I do. You were…” Hot. Cute. Smart as fuck. Just as beautiful as you are now.

  “Skinny, geeky, and abrasive.”

  That surprises a laugh out of me, because it’s mostly true. “Not skinny. Just not as fit as you are now. Ten years makes all the difference.”

  Fei hums softly. “Not that much difference, apparently,” he mumbles.

  I’m about to ask him what he means, but he tips his head back, wetting his hair in the water before straightening and turning away from me. He nods to shore. “Let’s go reapply, and we can swim some more before lunch, okay?”

  I hesitate, wanting to continue along this line of discussion, talk more about our shared past. Reassure him that I like both versions of him—the Fei of ten years ago and the Fei of right now. He’s clearly done with the conversation, though, and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable. Maybe he doesn’t care either way. I have to remember this whole thing is just a job for him.

  Whatever connection you feel right now isn’t real. It’s only wishful thinking.

  After spending hours snorkeling and lazing about in the water, we pour ourselves into Fei’s car. I sit in the passenger’s seat and sigh, not really wanting to leave yet. It was a dream, floating next to Fei in the water, fish and coral all around us. Even the other snorkelers couldn’t quite diminish the sense of magic that surrounded the morning.

  My stomach growls, reminding me why we packed up to leave in the first place. Beside me, Fei makes a sympathetic noise.

  “Let’s get some food in you. I’m starving too. It’s all fun and games in the water until you get out and your limbs feel twice as heavy.”

  “My treat? To
thank you for the good time.”

  “All part of the date experience,” Fei quips. Something in my chest twinges. I don’t want it to be just the experience. Not this morning. Not those touches of Fei’s hand on my arm in the water.

  Just be cool. Enjoy this, I tell myself.

  “Lemme treat you anyway. I want to.”

  He flashes me a lightning quick smile before returning his attention to the road in front of us. “Do I get to pick the place, then?”

  “Sure. Whatever you want.”

  “Okay, there’s this place by Ala Moana that serves pretty good beer.”

  “Okay, yeah. I could drink some beer.”

  That’s how we end up at a brewing house eating sweet potato fries and kalua pork sliders, and sharing not one, but two flights of beer. As Fei is still the designated driver, it falls upon me to finish most of the beers we’re sampling. I can’t even complain very much, because I’m having so much fun tasting the various flavors with Fei.

  “Here,” Fei says, pushing another mostly full six-ounce glass at me. “Try this one.”

  He bursts out laughing when I take a huge gulp and nearly spit it out. “Oh, my god, your face, man.”

  I choke down the mouthful, and make another face. “It’s like they tried their best to replicate cough syrup and it worked out really well for them. Shit.”

  Fei’s smiling broadly. He pushes another one toward me. “Okay, sorry. This one. This one you’ll like, I promise.”

  I shoot him a glare full of mock-suspicion, but drink the next glass anyway. “Hm. This is much better. Although… are you trying to get me drunk? Because it’s probably gonna work if I down the rest of these.” I gesture at the colorful array of beer glasses lined neatly in front of us on two separate trays.

  Fei tilts his head to one side and drawls, “Do I need to get you drunk?”

  It’s a joke. A tease. But damn, I want to lean in and kiss that smirk off his lips to convey how much he doesn’t need to get me drunk.

 

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