I sneak a glance at him. “Maybe.”
He chuckles, and we lapse into a comfortable silence. Until he says in a gruff tone, “Michael’s boat is barely in the black. And my mom’s been late on her last two mortgage payments. One more, and they’ll have to foreclose.”
I gasp. “Oh no. Ayden, I’m so sorry.”
He nods. “I didn’t find any of this out until after the second late payment. I would have helped her out earlier, but fucking Michael didn’t tell me.”
“Let me guess; he did it to protect you?”
He nods at me, his expression grateful that he doesn’t have to explain further. “Those were his exact words.”
“So you got a job that paid a lot more,” I surmise. “And you’re going to give all that extra money to your mom so she can keep the house.”
“Except Michael won’t let me. He says he’s the one living on my parents’ property, so he should be the one to pay the mortgage. He told my mom if she uses the money I send that he’ll personally send it back to me out of his paycheck.”
“But if his boat’s struggling…”
“He’s being a stubborn ass.” Ayden shakes his head. “I need to get him on the same page as me. Ma’s feeling torn between us, and she doesn’t want Michael upset.”
I reach out and take his hand in mine. “It will be okay, Ayd. I think Michael will come around. Maybe the memorial party for your dad will help him somehow.”
“Maybe.” Ayden tugs me closer to him. “So how long are you going to stay in that cashier’s booth?”
“Duck,” I say before I drop underneath the cool water.
When I emerge, the blue of Ayden’s eyes is so dark it looks black, like the ocean when it’s stormy. “Bella, you deserve everything good. A forever plus one, and a singing career, if you still want that. Your ex didn’t kill your dreams. And staying here won’t help you bring them back.”
Before I can say anything, he says, “I want you to move to L.A. with me, Bella.”
My breath catches in my chest.
I was prepared for Ayden to ask me again. Ever since he hinted at it weeks ago, I knew he’d circle back eventually. I just didn’t know when.
And tonight? Tonight, as usual, Ayden’s caught me off-guard. So I go on the defensive. “Question: why?”
He backs up a step. “Why what?”
“Why do you want me to come with you?”
His cheeks flush. “That’s a stupid question. You’re my best friend. And you can pursue your singing dream there. Of course I want you to come.”
“So you want us to what—be roommates? Or would I get my own apartment?”
He splashes at the water with his hands. “I don’t know. But it would make sense for you to live with me in Dylan’s apartment. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, so you could focus exclusively on your music. And it’s a two-bedroom. But until now, I guess I hadn’t thought it through.”
“I don’t think you’ve thought much of it through,” I say, feeling the pain slice through my heart like a knife. “Because you’ve dated every woman in town here, and you’ll no doubt do the same thing in L.A. And while that’s worked out fine when we aren’t actually living together, I have to be honest—I don’t know if it will be as easy for me when I’m watching a parade of women come and go from your bedroom.”
Ayden’s back in my space, his breath hot and smelling like mint. “What do you want to say? Spit it out, for Christ’s sake.”
My hand grabs at his soaking wet body for support because I truly think I might fall over. “Forget what I said about the women.”
“And what?” His eyes zero in on mine. “I need more than that. Tell me.”
He’s shaking as much as I am, and the emotion swimming in his eyes unnerves me.
God, I was so not prepared for this conversation. But it’s here, and it’s big, and I have to somehow muddle my way through it. Even if it feels like too much, I need to stand here and face him. “You just…you act like it’s so easy for me to pick up my life and move again. I’m not like these women you’ve dated where if you say jump, they will. I’m never going to be like them, Ayden.”
“I don’t want you to be like any of them, for God’s sake.” He takes hold of my arms and crowds me up against him, his breath coming quickly. “You’re my...you’re the only damn woman who’s ever meant anything to me. Just because we swore we’d never fuck…”
I let out a small gasp, and he rephrases.
“Just because we swore we’d never have sex with each other doesn’t mean you’re not the most important person in my life. You always have been, and you always will be. You have to know that you’re everything to me, Bella.”
“I do.” I clench my teeth. “I absolutely do. And you’re the same for me. Which is exactly why this feels so…” Explosive. “Challenging. I don’t want either of us to get hurt, Ayden. And I’m not sure how to avoid that if we continue down this path. We have to stay clear-headed so neither of us does something we can’t turn back from. You mean far too much to me to make that kind of mistake.”
Without waiting for him to answer me, I duck under the water. The cold hits me hard, and I pop back up, my hair now slicked back against my head.
Ayden flicks his gaze to me. “Truth, Bella? I think you’re torn.”
I shift my attention away from him and stare out at the shore. The stillness is soothing. “Torn how?”
“I think you want things you don’t think you deserve.”
I drag my lip between my teeth and turn my head to meet his determined gaze. “Like moving back to L.A. you mean.”
“Maybe. I think it’s more than that.” His eyes fix on me as he raises a topic that used to be taboo between us, even out here in the middle of the pools—“Truth or duck, Bella—I think you want me to fuck you, but you’re scared.”
Holy, holy, holy shit. I drop back down under the water, and I hold my breath as long as possible before I have to pop back up.
Ayden’s standing in the same spot he was, waiting for me. “Are you embarrassed?”
“No,” I lie.
“Am I right?”
“Maybe.” Another lie. Of course he’s right. As if to offer silent proof, my gaze slides to his mouth, and I’m still focusing on his lips when he speaks again.
“Truth or duck—how’s your dare coming along?”
I break into a soft laugh. “Shitty. Super shitty.”
He shoots me a half-grin. “Yeah? Mine too. I’m pretty much batting zero.”
“Me too.”
“Truth or duck—did you sleep with the tool from the bar?”
I go back under water, and I come up spitting water. Ayden rubs my back until I stop hacking.
“Too personal?” he asks me, his cheeks flushing red. “I know we don’t usually ask each other that question. But I’ll tell you one of my truths, Bella: I’ve never been this jealous before of men you’re dating.”
“How come?”
Now he ducks under the water. When he resurfaces, he exhales. “Changed my mind. I’ll actually take the truth on that question.”
The air thickens. “Y-you will?”
“I will.”
I wave a shaky finger in the air. “So-o. Tell me. How come you’re jealous?”
He steps closer to me so that our noses are nearly touching. “Because I’ve never wanted to kiss you as much as I do right now.”
My gaze locks in on his mouth. God, his lips are so sexy they should be illegal. I go back under water.
Ayden’s dimple is showing when I re-emerge cold and sputtering.
“It wasn’t even your truth,” he says with a smirk.
I’m shaking, and I deflect. “No, it wasn’t. Here’s one for you—did you sleep with Jenny Woods?”
Ayden cups my chin in his hand. “No. I’ve been solo all summer. And I know that’s a first for me,” he adds when I let out a surprised gasp. “And these last ten days where we only saw each other when we had to? I’ve
been completely miserable.”
I exhale. “Ayden, it’s been the same for me. It’s honestly been the loneliest ten days of my life.”
“How come?”
“Because I missed you so much every second.”
“Bella…”
“And to answer your question, I didn’t sleep with Trey.” I hold out my arms in a surrender gesture. “I never want to talk about this stuff, but I will now. Yes, I was angry I had to leave L.A. Yes, I felt like Trevor forced me out. But no, I wasn’t sorry we broke up. And not just because he likes men and we were clearly not meant for each other, but because I didn’t love him. I thought I did for a moment or two, but I didn’t.”
“How do you know that?” Ayden’s voice drops to nearly a whisper.
“Because I didn’t miss him when we were apart. I missed him a little, but not like…”
I suck in a breath and catch Ayden’s eye.
“Not like what?” he asks me.
“Not like I miss you.”
Ayden swallows hard as his gaze shifts to my lips.
“Ayden…” I struggle to withstand his hot stare on me. “This is so…”
“There you two are!” Tari and Peter wave to us from the shore. “Come on! We’ve got tequila!”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We all sit down on pieces of driftwood. Tari asks me how things are going with my father’s party planning, but Ayden is on my other side, and he puts his hand on my back as he chats with Peter. The sensual heat of his hand through the thin fabric of my shirt takes up my full attention, and I can hardly focus on what Tari’s saying.
“Honey, let’s get out the tequila!” Tari calls out to Peter.
“Since when do we drink tequila at the beach?” Ayden asks.
“Tonight, my friend.” Peter reaches into his bag and pulls out a bottle of tequila, as well as paper cups, limes, and salt. “This is a gift from Timmy for taking over his shift all week. So let’s not waste it.”
“Oh no,” I say. “Every time I get drunk, I always regret it.”
“One shot each,” Peter says. “That’s all I ask.”
It feels like a bizarre rite of passage—the four of us standing in a circle and licking salt off our hands, downing the shot, and then sucking on the lime. Tari begs me to have a second shot with her, and I do.
Peter puts salt on Tari’s neck and licks it off before his next shot. Tari giggles and tells Ayden to do the same to me. I tell him to stay right where he is. He grins and doesn’t take her up on it.
Within a half hour, the three of us are good and buzzed. Ayden stays sober, saying he has to work at six a.m. Tari and Peter giggle their way down the beach, and I sit down next to Ayden. Courtesy of Peter, I’m still holding all the ingredients for another shot, even though I don’t plan to use them.
Ayden takes the lime out of my hand and holds it. Then he wets his neck with a touch of tequila, takes some salt out of my other hand, and puts it on his neck.
“I dare you, Bella,” he says, his voice barely audible.
His eyes are fixed on mine, but his expression gives nothing away. And I’m too tipsy to think straight. So I finally stop and let go.
I lean over and lick the salt off Ayden’s skin. He laughs and pulls me closer. His arm wraps around my back, and I melt into him. His neck is so warm, and he smells so good, like pine and tequila and ocean.
I lick his neck again. And again. And then I suck on him so hard I’m sure I give him a hickey. A sexy, masculine sound escapes his throat, and his arm tightens around my waist.
By the time I pick my head up and swallow down the shot, Ayden’s eyes are liquid with heat. His gaze follows my movements as I grab the lime out of his hand and suck on it. When I’m finished, he cups my cheek with his hand.
“Bella. Damn.” He leans in so close to me, his face inches away, that for a second I’m certain he’s going to kiss me. But his eyes flick down to my empty shot glass, and with a low curse, he abruptly pulls back. He takes the glass out of my hand. “You can’t drive home,” he says. “I’ll take you.”
Ayden
I nearly fucking kissed her.
And if she hadn’t been drinking, I would have.
Kissing Bella Wesley has never been on the table before.
It just wasn’t an option.
Except that things have changed.
When she fucking licked me, I swear to God I nearly came in my pants. Bella and I have done such a damn good job of never crossing the line, but tonight it felt like the line was definitely blurred. And I know I enjoyed that blurring a hell of a lot more than I’ve ever wanted to admit to.
And suddenly, I don’t want to turn the train back around to the safe friend zone. The direction it’s going in feels pretty fucking great.
Because I’m the only one sober, I take Tari and Peter home too.
“Bella, let’s meet there for breakfast tomorrow,” Tari says as we pass Lou’s Diner. “We’ll pick our cars up before.”
“Uh-huh.” Bella’s head is propped against the door window, and her hair’s covering her face so I can’t see her expression.
Desperate to be alone with her, I drop off Tari and Peter first even though it’s ten minutes in the opposite direction.
After they get out of the back seat, Tari walks around to talk to Bella, who opens her door and nearly falls out of the car so she can whisper something to Tari.
Peter leans his head in the open window of the driver’s side and says to me in a low voice, “Trying to talk to her about a lifetime of shit between you isn’t the best idea when she’s drunk, man. Just saying.”
He’s right. I know he’s right. Doesn’t mean I want to listen to him.
“I’ve got it,” I say. “I won’t fuck anything up.”
He pats my shoulder and walks away with Tari to their front door.
I glance over at Bella, who’s tucked her long, sexy legs underneath her. I lean over to make sure her seat belt is on, and pull out onto the road.
“Hey,” I call to her softly.
She turns to me, her eyes sleepy and unfocused.
“You want to come over for a while? I’ve got leftover Thai food in the fridge.”
She smiles so sweetly I nearly lean over and put my mouth over hers. “Sounds perfect, Ayd.”
When we reach my driveway, I pull in slowly and turn off the car. “Let me help you out.”
I hop out of the car and open her door, sliding my arm around her waist when she practically falls into my arms.
I pause outside the car, my face buried in the crook of her neck, inhaling the scent that always reminds me of her, the intoxicating smell of flowers and mangoes and ocean. My hand tightens on her hip, and I actually have to stop myself from pressing my lips to her soft, edible skin. She wraps one hand around my hat, knocking it off my head and onto the driveway.
“Oh, no.” She pulls back and her eyes widen. “I keep messing with your hat lately. I know how you hate that.”
I bend down to retrieve my hat, and then I tip my head until our noses touch. “Do I seem like I hate it?”
Her eyes become pools of liquid heat. “I…I’m not sure. No?”
I shake my head, keeping my nose on hers. “No. I don’t hate it at all when you mess with me, Bella Wesley. Got it?”
I step back just in time to see her tongue darting out to lick her plump bottom lip.
I stifle a groan. She’s going to kill me tonight. Right here in my damn driveway. Her nipples are poking through her shirt that provides hardly any coverage at all without her bra in the way. And I know she’s wearing no panties underneath those tiny cut-offs that barely cover her ass. I grab her sea-soaked bra and panties out of the car and slip them into my pocket.
Just getting Bella to the door and inside my house without backing her up against the wall and wrapping her legs around my waist feels like a near impossible feat. I’m so turned on right now that my mind has stopped leading the show, and my dick is in full control.
All I can think about is tasting Bella, touching her, and tangling my tongue with hers.
When she looks up at the stars and points out how “twinkly” they are tonight, I take the opportunity of her distraction to cup my crotch and quickly adjust myself.
Then I walk Bella into the house.
Bella
Ayden wants me to be comfortable, and he insists I need to shower off the cold ocean water so I won’t get chilled. He says he’ll lend me a t-shirt of his to wear.
“Ayd, parading around naked is the opposite of comfortable for me.”
He licks his lips and stares at me before quickly rustling through his dresser and deciding one of his high school football jerseys is the largest shirt he owns.
I grumble, but it turns out he’s right. I take a quick shower and pull on his jersey, and the darn thing comes to the middle of my thighs. I would ask him for sweatpants too, but it’s hot out tonight, and he doesn’t have air conditioning.
I find Ayden sitting on his living room floor. The lights are dimmed, and I go join him.
“You already sold your couch?”
“Michael wanted it.” He chuckles. “Couldn’t wait to get his hands on it once he found out I was moving.”
He puts a pillow behind my back for me to lean against the wall.
“Hope you don’t mind the seating. The rug’s pretty soft, right?”
I laugh. “Yeah, it is.”
His living room’s still pretty full with the TV, an armchair that’s too small for two, and two bookcases filled with stuff. But without the couch it feels empty somehow. I can see the glow of Ayden’s refrigerator from here. I remember the day his old one conked out and he and I went shopping for a new one. It took us all weekend to find one that seemed worth the hefty price tag.
“What are you going to do with the fridge?” I say softly.
“Try to sell it I guess. Unless Michael wants it.”
He gets up and goes into the kitchen to fix us plates of Thai food.
When he returns, we eat quietly, enveloped by a silence broken only by the consistent humming of the refrigerator. The emptier the space around it, the louder it sounds.
Ayden Page 13
