Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths

Home > Other > Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths > Page 14
Beach Side Beds and Sandy Paths Page 14

by Becca Ann


  “Says you. Why’d that happen to you anyway?”

  He rubs at his neck, looking down before blinking back up at me. “You were wearing that green tank top of yours. The one that made your eyes even darker.” He runs his finger down the line of my bikini top. “And cut just low enough. That shirt got me every time.”

  “I loved that one. Mom borrowed it and snapped the strap off. I totally forgot about that. Wait that was like seventh or eighth grade.”

  “Seventh,” he says so matter-of-factly.

  “I turned you on even then?”

  Ryan sits up and wraps his arm around my shoulders. “Lex, you’ve been turning me on before I even knew what that meant.”

  I take in a ragged breath and look up into his eyes. “Really?” Kaylee mentioned Ryan had been in love with me forever, but hearing it from him is something completely different.

  His hand rests on my cheek and rubs small circles with his thumb. “Really. Lex, I’ve been in love with you since day one.”

  All thoughts of why we were still on the beach rush out of me, and I jump up, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. He shifts slightly in his board shorts and holds his towel in front of him.

  “Where are we going?” he asks with a laugh.

  “This way,” I say and walk faster than I’ve ever walked before. Even faster than all those times Brewster, my favorite client’s dog, dragged me down a block and a half before Ryan caught up with me and took his leash.

  The house is in sight and somehow I manage to move faster. Ryan starts to lightly jog to keep up with me. Loud music drifts down the path leading to the house. That’s weird. I didn’t leave music on. Maybe Kaylee thought it would set the mood? 50 Cent is a weird choice but hey who am I to judge?

  I all but run up the path, the music getting louder, only for me to come to a complete halt. Ryan runs into my back and if it wasn’t for his hand wrapping around my waist I would’ve nose-dived into the stairs leading to the house.

  People line the deck and even more are packed in the house like nail polish on a shelf. No. No. You have got to be kidding me.

  “Just in time for the party!” Nick says, tossing Ryan a beer. I don’t even need to look to know he tossed it right back. After our biggest blow out ever I don’t think he will ever touch a drop of alcohol again.

  “I’m good,” Ryan says as it lands in Nick’s hand.

  Damn it! Nick’s been so scarce I thought for sure he wouldn’t be here. .

  “Suit yourself,” he says and turns back to the two blonds anxiously waiting behind him. Is she eating the brownies I made for Ryan? Oh my God she is! And my rose. Oh no. That other bimbo did not take my rose and use it as an accessory on her overly large ear.

  Before I can rip it away, they disappear into the crowd and I plop on the steps, my head falling into my hands.

  My eyes sting and my throat burns with disappointment. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much planning I put into it, it always goes to shit. Story of my life.

  “Hey,” Ryan says kneeling down in front of me and taking my face in his strong hands. “What’s wrong? I threw the beer back. I wouldn’t.”

  I hate that he thinks it’s his fault. It’s not. It never is.

  I shake my head. “I had the whole rest of our day and night planned and this”—I throw my hand out scanning the raging party—“was not supposed to be a part of it. Every time I try to do something for you it goes wrong.”

  “What are you talking about? What else has gone wrong?”

  “When I was trying to act all sexy for you, and my boob exploded! Who knew that could even happen?”

  “Lex.” He sits down on the step beside me and takes my hand in his. “You don’t need to act sexy. You could be wearing a shit brown rain poncho, and you’d still be sexy as hell.”

  “Really?” I ask, blinking up at him. He takes my face back in his hands and swipes his thumbs under my eyes.

  “Really.”

  “Then why won’t you have sex with me?” I don’t mean to blurt it out like that again, but a girl can only endure so many rejections before thinking it’s her. “You love me, right?”

  “I hate that you even have to ask that.”

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  He looks down at the ground and rubs the back of his neck. I put my hand under his chin and urge his eyes to mine. “Talk to me.”

  “The problem is.” Pain flashes across his face. “I love you too much.”

  I don’t know how to take that. I still have so many questions, but by the look on his face, for the first time, I don’t think I want to know. Ryan has always been able to talk to me about everything. Well…except for the fact that he has been in love with me from that very first day on the playground, but still. When he’s ready to talk, I know without a doubt, I’ll be his first and only stop.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, running my hands through his hair and locking my fingers behind his neck.

  “For what?”

  “For being a horny zoo animal.” He laughs, and I smile before continuing. “I’ve been so obsessed with having sex with you that I’ve been missing out on all the reasons why I want to have sex with you.” I run my finger down the contour of his face. “Can you do me a favor?”

  “You know I will, you goof,” he says and presses his forehead against mine.

  “Tonight can it just be like old times? We don’t need the old amusement park, or you riding me on your handlebars. All these moments I tried recreating. I didn’t have to. Because the only thing we need is each other”

  Chapter 21

  Ryan

  The sun filters into the room, and I ease from Lex’s hold and grab my phone. She’s facedown into the pillow, mouth wide open as she sleeps. I want to reach over and wipe the mess of her hair from her eyes, but I don’t want to wake her. The first thing on the agenda today is to get rid of all the beer cans and SOLO cups.

  Luckily the rooms were off limits—all except Nick’s which by the smell as I walk by, got its fair share of use. I hear someone downstairs as I pad across the top floor landing, surprised there aren’t many remnants of the party up here.

  The clang of aluminum gets louder when I hit the bottom step, and Nate quirks a smile at me as he stuffs a stack of cups into the garbage bag he’s carrying. I shake my head because all he’s wearing is his hat, suspenders, and boxers. When he bends over to grab an empty beer can, I wrinkle my nose at the word “Lucky” spread across his ass.

  “Dude,” I groan and bolt to the adjoining kitchen for another bag. “Put on some pants.”

  “Did you see any evidence of alcohol upstairs?” he asks, ignoring me.

  “Nope.”

  “Good. Kaylee’s pissed off enough. I don’t want to make it worse.”

  I nod him over to me, gesturing to the counter. He drops his bag, hops over the couch, and sweeps the entire countertop into the bag I’m holding at the edge.

  “Why would Kaylee care about the alcohol?” I ask, tying the end of the plastic.

  “Lexie will. And Kaylee cares about Lexie.” He blows a sigh and looks around the rest of the house. “Apparently I screwed up bad last night.”

  “Yes,” a squeaky, but stern voice says from the stairwell, “you did.” Kaylee trudges in, her hair unusually up in a ponytail and not her normal braids. She fixes her bright purple beach cover up—or whatever the hell that thing is—and plants a kiss on Nate’s cheek. “I forgive you because I know you got up hours ago, and you’re nursing a killer hangover.”

  “Will you tell me now what it is I did wrong?” Nate asks as she grabs his hat and settles it on top of her head. She pinches his nose and wiggles it.

  “Not in front of Ryan.”

  I snort and grab another bag from under the sink. “Suddenly you’re concerned about that? Where was this concern when you two started dating?”

  Kaylee fake laughs and snatches the bag from my hand. My cell goes off, and I fumble to get it out of my pocket before
it wakes everyone up. It’s my grandparents.

  “Hello.”

  “Hey, son,” Pop-pop says. “How’s it going?”

  I give Nate and Kaylee a minute finger and step outside to the porch for some privacy—theirs and mine.

  “It’s going good.”

  “You and Brett getting along?”

  Yes. No. Sort of. “It’s been okay.”

  “Good. I was just checking in.”

  “We’re all fine. Having fun and keeping out of trouble.” We’ll just forget the mess I’m cleaning this morning.

  “How’s the Lincoln treating you?”

  My eyes drift to the car. “I haven’t driven it since I got here, but I’ll check it today.”

  “Good. You’re heading back in a couple days, so I’d drive her around a bit to make sure she doesn’t stall on you. Let me know if I need to move money into your account for any oil.”

  “Got it.”

  “Reminds me, I got a job for you when you get back. 1980 IROC, broken transmission. You up for it?”

  “IROC? Who the hell still drives one of those?” I smirk as Pop-pop’s gravelly laughter fogs up the receiver. The door opens behind me, and I crook my neck at Kaylee.

  “You almost done?” she mouths and I nod and pat the porch step.

  “I was thinking,” Pop-pop says as Kaylee plops down next to me, “since I’m barely of use anymore as a mechanic, maybe Brett could give you a hand.”

  My grin fades. “Grams put you up to that, didn’t she?”

  “Actually, no.” He sighs, and Kaylee must notice the sudden change in my tone, and she softly nudges my elbow, then puts her arm through mine. Pop-pop’s voice shallows. “Brett is your family, whether you like it or not, and it’s time you stop whining like a damn child.”

  “If you heard what he said about Dad, you wouldn’t be—”

  “Does it matter, son? You put that aside and be a man. Your brother needs you, and even though you don’t want to admit it, you need him, too.”

  I pull in a deep breath, and Kaylee squeezes my forearm. I try to pay attention to the soft comfort of one of my friends instead of the tight pain in my chest.

  “And not to mention,” Pop-pop says, his tone lighter, “this job pays three grand. I want to make sure it gets done in time, and you and Brett can split the money. Got it?”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “Love you, son.”

  “Love you, too.”

  We hang up and Kaylee settles her chin on the heel of her hand, raising her eyebrows at me.

  “What?”

  “You look tense.”

  I let out a hollow laugh. “Yeah.”

  “Everything okay?”

  My shoulders lift a little, and I tuck my phone back in my pocket. “Brother stuff. Same shit.”

  “Hmm…” She drums her fingers against her chin, and I nudge her with my elbow.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” She sighs. “Just thinking of ways that could help you…release the tension.”

  Groaning, I bury my face in my hands. “Not you, too.”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “I know what you’re not saying.”

  Her teeth come out over her lip as she bites her smile away. “Trust me, my friend, mad hot sex is just what you need. What both of you need.”

  I laugh, shaking my head at the porch. I pick at the wood next to my thigh.

  “If I was just aiming for some mad sex I would’ve done it already. That’s the point though. I love her too much to use her.”

  “Use her?” Kaylee swivels on the step so her leg divides our bodies. “How do you mean?”

  “I don’t want it to be because I’m trying to forget about… well, about all this shit.”

  “Okay…”

  I can tell she’s not getting it. Sex has never been just sex for me. It’s been this thing in the back of my mind that should mean something with someone. Hell yes, I’ve pictured taking this step with Lexie. I’ve come close several times since we started dating. And I think because I’ve pictured it so many times, because I’ve come close, because I am in frickin’ love with this girl, I hold back because this moment should be perfect for her. So many things in her life aren’t perfect, and this should be something that is.

  I clear my throat and turn on the steps to match her position. “Lex is your best friend.”

  She tilts her head a little to the side and nods.

  “I know you’re looking out for her,” I say. “But you’re only getting her side of this.”

  “True.”

  I rap my knuckles against her knee. “She’s my best friend, too. So that’s what I’m doing. I’m looking out for her.”

  A flash of a smile runs across her face, then she purses her lips and lightly smacks my hand. “Fine. Make sense and be adorable.”

  “They are my finest qualities,” I say with bravado. She sticks her tongue out at me and shoves my shoulder.

  “I get it, I do, and I’m going to butt out…after I say one little thing.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “If you keep waiting for the perfect moment, chances are you’ll never find it.”

  Did I say that out loud? She rolls her eyes and laughs at my raises eyebrow.

  “There are probably several right moments that don’t feel right because they aren’t perfect. So, your brother’s in town. So he said some pretty nasty stuff about your family. So he’s barged in on your life, and it sucks major. So what? Look at Lexie. She works two jobs to pay for a college she’s not even sure she’ll get into. She takes care of her mom, drunk, sober, and everything in between. She’s done it for years. What if she waited to tell you how she felt about you because she was angry with her life, and she didn’t want you to be a part of it? What if she had waited for the ‘perfect’ moment, when her mom got sober, when she’d been accepted at college?” Kaylee settles her hand on top of mine. “I’m not saying jump in the sack because everyone else is doing it. I’m just saying don’t let anything outside of you and Lexie determine when you take that step.”

  That’s a hell of a big “little thing” she wanted to say. And damn it, she makes even more sense than me. I squeeze her fingers and pull a little hard on her pinky.

  “Fine. Make sense and be adorable.”

  “They are my finest qualities,” she says in a horrible impression of my voice. We laugh, and she tucks an arm around my shoulder and rests her head against my arm. After a few minutes, Nate comes out with a couple of trash bags.

  “All right, I know you guys are guests and shit, but will you help a guy out?”

  “Only if you put on pants,” I say, and Kaylee leans back and smacks me.

  “No, he looks good. He’s staying like that the rest of the trip.”

  Nate drops the bags and tickles her sides, and I get the hell up so I don’t get hit by an elbow. My knees crack as I bend to get the garbage, and I head to the dumpsters.

  “Oh wait, Ry!” Kaylee says from under Nate’s arm. She gives him a look, and he lets go of her. She jogs up to me, dropping her voice. “FYI, the beach house will be totally empty this afternoon.”

  “Kaylee…”

  “I’m not saying anything. Just letting you know,” she sings, then she turns back to her half naked boyfriend. And even though she was kidding—I think—my heart palpitates a hundred times faster.

  I wonder if Lex threw that condom out, or if it’s still in her purse.

  ***

  The room Lex and I share looks right out over the beach. It’s a floor to ceiling window, pretty damn cool looking, and I’m standing in the middle of the floor, watching my girlfriend talking with her best friend. Nate and Brett are sitting nearby, and it looks like Nate’s pulling out coins from nowhere. Lex is pacing the shoreline, kicking up the water with Kaylee. She’s got her sandals in her hand, the slight breeze is whipping her hair around her neck, and she looks content. Happy.

  Sexy.

  I t
ake a deep breath and slowly close the white drapes. Cracking my knuckles, I walk the three steps to the dresser and stare at the condom sitting on top.

  Damn. I’m eighteen years old, and I have no idea how one of these things work. I get the logistics. Rip the package, roll it on…seems simple enough, but I’ve never had to use one since it’s been just me since I was twelve. And I thought they’d do the banana lesson in health class at one point, but that never happened.

  All I keep picturing is how weird it’s gonna be when Lex and I are… and I can’t seem to… what if it flies off? Or breaks? Or I can’t get the package open or I’m too big for it or worse…I’m too small. I bring my hands to my hair and yank the strands, trying not to freak myself out now that I’ve decided the only thing holding me back is how to work this thing.

  “Okay,” I say to no one. Bending over to the duffel, I search the side pockets and grab a five pack strip I found in Nate’s room. Lex had the one Grams gave her, and for some really jacked up reason, I find it weird to use that one for… its intended purpose. I smack my hand over the one on the dresser and compare the two brands, read the packages, but my eyes keep going in and out of focus. The bed bounces as my legs move up and down. I’m trying to concentrate, but after a few minutes of that failing, I say, “Screw it,” and tear into the single.

  The foil was easy to rip, but the condom was lubricated, and I wasn’t prepared for the sudden appearance of it. So it flies from my fingers and lands on the floor. Oh man, I’m glad I’m practicing.

  Checking over my shoulder to make sure the door is still locked, I take a deep breath and pull out the banana I grabbed from downstairs. I’m not exactly…ahem…hardened enough to practice on my own junk, so I settle the thing between my knees and say, “Hell, Ryan, if anyone knew you were doing this… ah shit.” I put it on backward I think. It won’t roll. So I flip it around and try to yank the rubber into place, but my hands are shaking so much, and I feel like an idiot that the thing doesn’t look right. Or maybe it does and I have no idea. There’s no picture on the packet, and I’d rather risk the awkwardness than Google “how to put on a condom.”

  I chuck the banana in the trash, then bury it with a bunch of tissues. Awkward trial run out of the way, so when it comes down to the real deal, I’ll be ready for it.

 

‹ Prev