by Noelle Adams
Then she turned away. Smiled at that other guy. Forgot Robert even existed.
Brian wasn’t her type.
He wasn’t anywhere close to her type.
Why the hell did she find him so fascinating?
Robert bristled and made himself keep walking until he’d reached the gate off the pool deck.
It was dark out, so he didn’t go far. He just stood on the beach, listened to the ocean, and wished there was a cure for the ache in his heart.
He’d had it ever since Anne had broken up with him six years ago.
At this rate, it was never going to go away.
Six
ANNE WAS TRYING TO think about Brian as she got ready for bed that night, but her thoughts kept drifting in another direction.
Brian was a nice, smart, shy guy. They both liked books, and he’d seemed genuinely interested when she told him about her knitting and the new business she was starting. He was cute in a geeky way, and as far as she could tell, he might be interested in her if he could ever get over his ex-girlfriend.
He was the kind of guy she needed to fall for. He would be a good step toward a restarted life.
But she kept thinking about Robert instead.
He’d disappeared sometime during the evening, and he hadn’t come back. Riot was still on the pool deck when Anne had come up to her bedroom, so at least she was spared the horrible idea that Robert was off doing something with Riot.
No. He was alone.
But she didn’t know where he was or why he’d left, and it bothered her irrationally.
That last look he’d given her before he’d walked out on the beach. Intense. Searching. Almost angry.
She hadn’t known how to process it, so she’d quickly looked away.
She hadn’t seen him after that.
It was troubling. Not to know what was going on with him.
It left her unsettled and upset.
She’d changed into a little knit nightgown and was washing her face in the bathroom attached to her room when there was a knock on the door.
Probably Em wanting to share some gossip before bed.
Anne hurried to the door without hesitation and swung it open with a smile.
Her smile faltered when she saw Robert standing in the hall, his expression sober and as intense as it had been earlier.
“What?” she demanded when he didn’t say anything. Her heart was hammering so hard that she could feel it in her neck and her ears.
Robert opened his mouth, but no words came out.
She waited another minute, but the suspense was too much for her. Her voice was sharper when she repeated, “What?”
Robert’s face changed. “There’s no reason to snap at me.”
“Seriously? You’re telling me not to snap at you? When you’re the one who knocked on my door after midnight and then stands there like a statue not saying anything? I’m asking you again in a very nonsnappish tone. What do you want?”
His expression twisted with something like resignation. His voice was milder when he replied, “I don’t even know.”
She sighed and stepped out of the doorway to let him in.
Maybe it was a mistake to invite him into her bedroom at this time of night. (It was almost certainly a mistake.) But he looked lost and almost helpless right now, and it was exactly how she felt herself.
Robert came into the room a few steps. His eyes made a quick circuit around the room, noting the basic furniture, neat bed, and open suitcase on the bench near the window. Then he met her eyes again. “Things feel awkward,” he said at last.
“Yeah. They definitely do.”
“I don’t know what to do to fix them.”
She felt better now that the weirdness was out in the open. The tension in her shoulders relaxed slightly, and the pounding of her heart wasn’t deafening her quite so much. “I honestly don’t know if they can be fixed, Robert. What happened, happened. We were never really friends. We started dating as soon as we met. I don’t know that becoming friends now is much of a possibility.”
“I know. But I don’t like feeling this way.”
“Neither do I.” She sighed and shifted from foot to foot. Robert wore shorts and a faded Navy T-shirt. There was a small wet spot in the middle of his belly, so he must have been sweating recently. His forehead was still slightly damp, and his blue eyes were holding hers without wavering.
He needed to shave. His hair was mussed. He smelled like the beach.
She wished he wasn’t everything she wanted.
“So what do you suggest?” she asked at last, since someone needed to say something.
“I don’t know.” His voice was just slightly raspy. “Maybe we could try.”
“Try what?”
“To be friends. I don’t like feeling like...”
“Like what?”
“Like I can’t settle down. Like I can’t take a deep breath. Like I’m always ready to explode when I’m around you.”
It was so close to how she felt herself that she blinked up at him. “Yeah.”
Robert licked his lips. “So you want to try?”
She nodded. “If you think it’s worth a try, I’m in.”
“I think it’s worth a try.”
“I’m in.”
His cheeks were slightly flushed, and she didn’t know why, but she found it ridiculously sexy. It made him feel more real, solid, alive. So did the ocean scent of him. And the way the thick, dark hairs on one of his eyebrows were ruffled. “Okay.”
“Okay,” she said, swallowing hard.
His hands were fisted at his sides. “Okay. So we’ll try to be friends.”
She nodded. “Friends.”
“Friends,” he repeated.
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Then something else broke in the tension between them. Robert gave a soft groan and hauled her into his arms, kissing her deep and hard.
She kissed him back with just as much fervor, all the need and desire in her heart erupting into action without warning, without volition.
No matter what she tried to tell herself, it just was.
She clutched at his shirt, arched into his body, tilted her head back as far as it would go to give him better access to her mouth.
Before she could even register that his tongue was in her mouth, he was gathering her up in his arms and carrying her over to the bed.
“Robert, your leg!”
“My leg is fine.”
She wasn’t entirely convinced. His face looked too strained. But they were only a few steps from the bed, and he was already lowering her to the mattress. She wouldn’t let him go, even as he tried to toe off his shoes before he climbed on top of her.
They fumbled around until they managed to get their clothes off, and then they were kissing again, tangled up together, her legs wrapped tightly around his middle.
It was exactly what she wanted. Exactly what she needed. Like the space against her naked skin was created for him alone. Her mind wasn’t clouded with alcohol this time—even slightly. She knew exactly what they were doing and what it meant, and nothing about that knowledge was capable of stopping her.
Because this was what she wanted.
He was what she wanted. What she’d always wanted.
Robert. And his deep heart and his conflicted feelings and his solid strength and his nakedly hungry blue eyes.
“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he mumbled against her skin, kissing his way from her mouth to her neck. “So hot. So soft and warm and... and...”
She arched up in pleasure at his words and his touch. “And what?”
“And alive,” he finally concluded, reaching her right breast and taking it in his mouth.
It was so close to the way she was thinking about him that she moaned. When he tugged at her nipple with his mouth, she moaned again and reached out to clutch at the bedding.
He kissed and caressed her all over until she was writhing helplessly, but he d
idn’t seem any more in control of this than she was. His mood and his touches felt so urgent they were almost clumsy, and she loved him that way.
It had been so long since she’d felt like anyone had needed her this way.
The last time had been Robert.
She’d reached between their bodies to find and stroke his hard erection, when he almost threw himself off her and onto the bed beside her. He lay on his back, panting and staring up at the ceiling.
“What’s the matter?” Her voice wobbled slightly because she was so afraid he’d changed his mind. Her body was throbbing with need, but her heart needed this even more.
He couldn’t be stopping now. She couldn’t stand it.
“Nothing.” He glanced over with a wry twist of a smile on his damp, flushed face. “Just trying to keep it together. I was about to lose it.”
“Oh.” She giggled in relief. “That’s all right then.”
“Do you have a condom?”
“Yeah. In my purse.” Fortunately, she’d set her purse on the nightstand earlier, so it was in reach. She stretched one arm out to snag it, and she handed Robert the condom packet she dug out of an inner pocket.
Robert tore it open, rolled it on, and then moved between her legs again. She wrapped her arms and legs around him as he edged himself inside her.
Then he was kissing her again, even as they moved against each other urgently. It all felt deep and tight and intense and so incredibly real. She eventually lost coordination, drowning in the ache of so many conflicting feelings. She gasped and squirmed and dragged lines down his back with her nails, desperately seeking relief to the knot of agonizing tension.
Robert was huffing, pumping his hips, his eyes never leaving her face now that the kiss was broken.
“Oh fuck. Fuck, you’re so good. So good. Can you come?” he rasped after a while.
“Y-yes. I’m trying.” She whimpered slightly as she released his neck so she could feel her way down between their bodies with one hand. She had to squeeze it in to get to her clit, but she moaned loudly with relief when she was able to rub herself.
“Yeah. Fuck. Yeah!” Each word was increasingly louder as she tightened around him inside her. “That’s right. Just like that. Come. I want you to come.”
She bit her lip to stifle the sob of pleasure as she rubbed her clit frantically. Then all the tension broke, and she was shaking and choking out helpless sounds of relief.
Robert came too, right after her, like he’d been holding back just for her. His body jerked and shuddered as he mumbled out words she couldn’t quite understand. Then his body started to soften deliciously as he gasped against her neck.
She felt good—good in every way—when he gave her one more kiss before he rolled off her and dealt with the condom.
He sat on the side of the bed, panting, his head dropped forward and his eyes closed. He looked worn out but more than that. Satisfied. Like he’d needed what they’d just done as much as she had.
It had meant something. More than physical lust.
Only a fool wouldn’t know that.
They still wanted each other. Maybe they could work out everything that had gone wrong between them.
Maybe it wasn’t as impossible as she’d always believed.
“Robert?” she prompted when a couple of minutes of silence went by.
She needed to know what was going on here. She needed to know right now.
He turned to look at her, an ache in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “We need to do better.”
Her throat clamped down in surprise. “Better?”
“Better at being friends. This is what I would call a complete flop.” He was trying to keep his voice light, but it was strained. Like he was upset. Like he was upset about what they’d just done.
A flop. A mistake. Something he regretted.
This obviously didn’t mean to him what it meant to her.
She’d never stop being stupid about him, no matter how many times she tried to restart her life. Stand up for herself. Be the person she wanted to be.
But she wasn’t going to give him everything. She wasn’t going to give him her pride. She managed a little smile in response. “Yes, this was not a high point of friendship activity. We’ll have to try again to be friends.”
He looked away. Stared at the floor for a minute before he gave a jerky nod. “We’ll try again tomorrow.”
Then he got up and grabbed his clothes as he went into her bathroom.
After a minute, he returned fully dressed and composed again.
“I’m going to leave now. We can talk tomorrow if you want. I do want to settle things between us. I do want us to be friends—even if we can’t be close friends.”
She nodded and smiled and prayed he couldn’t see how torn up she felt. “I’d like that too.”
With one more nod, he left, leaving Anne alone in her room with nothing but her stifled tears.
ANNE SLEPT ONLY FITFULLY that night, and she woke up at seven tired and sore and aching inside and out.
She gave herself a mental pep talk as she took a hot shower and dressed in capris and a light hoodie since it was cool and breezy this morning. Then she went downstairs, made coffee and poured some into a travel mug, and then took it outside to walk on the beach.
The sun was hovering just above the horizon—an orange-gold orb in a pink-and-purple sky. It fit her mood—stark and casting a harsh light on the world as it rose. It lit but didn’t warm.
She stood on the sand, sipping her coffee and staring at the orange reflection on the water. She tried not to replay the events of last night in her mind, but she couldn’t help it. She still felt the passion, the excitement, the intimacy, and then the jarring thud of pain when Robert once again believed their being together was a mistake.
He might still be attracted to her. He obviously was, or he’d be able to keep his hands off her. But attraction was never enough to cover emotions of the heart. And his heart hadn’t yet healed from their broken relationship in the past.
It probably never would.
She needed to give him up. Move on like she’d wanted to do from the beginning.
If the way to do that was to be his friend, then that was what she’d do.
If the way to do that was to never see him again, then she would live with that too.
“Anne.”
She jumped. Literally jumped as she whirled around.
Robert was standing a few feet behind her, dressed in shorts and a sweatshirt and looking like he’d just rolled out of bed. There were dark circles under his eyes, indicating that he hadn’t gotten any more rest than she had last night. “Sorry if I startled you.”
“It’s fine.” She swallowed and tried to recover her composure. “It’s fine. I just didn’t know anyone else was up yet.”
“I just got up and saw you out here.”
“Oh.” She had no idea what to say. No idea what to do. “I just wanted to take an early walk.”
“Okay. I’ll walk with you, unless you want to be alone.” Robert seemed different today. Quiet. Hesitant. Almost shy, if that was possible.
She nodded since her voice wasn’t currently working. Her throat was tight, and her hands were shaking slightly. She had no idea what Robert was thinking or why he wanted to walk with her right now.
When he didn’t say anything else, she turned and started to walk south down the beach. Robert fell in step with her, and they walked for several minutes before either of them said anything.
Then finally Robert burst out, “I’m sorry.”
She jerked her head up to study his face. “What for?”
“For last night.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I feel like I might have hurt your feelings, and I’m sorry about that.”
“You didn’t. I mean, you didn’t do anything wrong. We shouldn’t have had sex. You were right. It was a mistake.”
“Yes. I know. But we did have sex, and I shouldn’t have treated you the
way I did afterward. You don’t deserve that. No one does. I feel bad about it, and I’m sorry.”
She nodded, something relaxing in her throat. “Thank you.”
This felt more like the Robert she remembered. He’d always cared about other people’s feelings. It was almost a relief that he hadn’t transformed completely even though everything else was different now.
They started to walk again, and after a few minutes, Robert asked in a different tone, “Why did you quit your job?”
She glanced over to check his expression and saw a real question there. He wasn’t just poking at her. He wanted to know. “The job changed over the years. It wasn’t what I signed up for. I guess that’s inevitable, but it ended up requiring constant travel, so much so that there was nothing left in my life but my job. I want more than that.”
“Did you think about getting a new position in marketing?”
“Yes, but jobs like that aren’t easy to get in this area, and I really don’t want to move right now.”
“I see.” He was staring in front of him now, not looking at her.
She waited but he didn’t continue. “What?”
“You gave me up for that job.”
The words were mild, but they hurt like a slash through her heart. She breathed a few times before she could manage to respond. “And you gave me up for your job.”
He opened his mouth like he would argue, but he stopped himself before he did.
“I know joining the Navy was more than a job for you. I know it was your duty, your service. I know it’s an important part of who you are, and not doing it would have been turning your back on an important part of yourself. I don’t blame you at all for choosing the Navy over me. I really don’t. You’d feel less than yourself if you hadn’t done it. But maybe you could think about why you automatically assumed that my job—what I had felt called to do—wasn’t an important part of who I was. Why you assumed I should have given it up without it making me less than I was. I know I ended up quitting the job I took, but I had no idea that was going to happen back then. I was twenty-one years old. I did the best I could with what I knew.”
