by Piper Lawson
Kent smelled like salt and the ocean, all wrapped up in an addictive package. I tipped up my chin, until were breathing the same air.
“Dal, we shouldn’t do this.” His lips landed on one corner of my mouth, and for the first time it felt too patronizing, making impatience mingle with desire inside me. It wasn’t enough, not nearly.
“You don’t want to?” I whispered against his lips, reaching to tug him closer. I arched my hips against the hardness in his jeans, a growl of satisfaction starting low in my throat. “Because I do. Kent, it’s all I can think—”
My voice was cut off, along with my breath.
I’d imagined his lips being firm, but the little bit of give when they found mine was sexy as hell.
So was the sound in his throat when I opened under him.
His hands smoothed down my sides, teasing my skin through the holes in my dress, his thumbs grazing my breasts. Kent’s tongue moved against mine, and his arms banded around my lower back, pulling my hips against his.
I was trapped. The best kind of trapped. He was over me, around me, everywhere. Still, it wasn’t enough.
The rigid length in his jeans cut through my hazy consciousness, feeding the ache between my thighs.
Friends.
The word felt like some lost language, faded centuries ago in the wake of this. The blinding need rising up, taking me over.
Kent was here, warm, hard and murmuring promises in my ear.
On a groan, he grabbed my bare thigh and hitched my leg around his hip. My shoe clattered on the linoleum.
If this was what it meant to want someone, I’d been missing out. My entire world collapsed into a single point, into him and me and the tired linoleum under our feet and the wall at my back.
My fingers found the corded muscles of his back and shoulders as I pulled him closer. Any space between us was too much. The hard ridge of his fly coupled with the even harder part of him beneath that made me ache.
He was like doing heroin when I’d never so much as smoked a joint in my life. I needed all of him, even though I knew, somehow, I wasn’t ready for any of it.
Isn’t that what all this is about? Facing your fears?
No. This wasn’t about facing fears, at least not the kind I’d thought. It was something entirely new.
The feelings coursing through my body hadn’t come from the feel of his rough touch on my thighs, his teeth scraping my ear.
They’d started when he’d etched my words on his boards. When he’d showed up to bring me coffee. When he’d studied me, hard, needing to know I was okay. When he’d held me in the water, wanting me to see the world like he did.
My brain had been hijacked by the feel of him. I was a rocket on a one-way mission to discover, to take, to witness. I wanted everything he’d give me, and maybe more than that.
Incoherent words spilled from my lips to his.
“God, I love this,” I panted. “I love…”
“Dal? Where are you?” Mac’s voice croaked from the bedroom.
Kent pulled back. His eyes were dark, his breathing rough.
My chest heaved as I searched Kent’s eyes in the darkness, reality starting to seep back in.
I’d promised myself the next time I got caught up in a guy, it would be for the right reasons…
But this didn’t feel like a save. Because now that he wasn’t kissing me, things weren’t good at all.
We were here in my dingy apartment with my drunk roommate, and the only remaining hint we’d been anywhere else was the lingering dampness of my panties.
My leg unhooked from his hips, but even with both feet on the ground, things were sideways.
I glanced down, blinking for a moment before I stepped out of my other shoe.
“Hello?” Mac groaned again.
“Don’t leave,” I whispered. “You can wait here. Or—“ I hesitated “—you can wait in my room.”
Kent’s jaw tightened. “Dal…”
My fingers dug into the corded muscles of his arms for a moment before I pressed up on my toes, brushing my mouth over his cheek. “Don’t. Just…stay.”
Then I let go, slipping into Mac’s room.
I gave her some water, held her while she threw it up again.
The sound outside had me straightening.
Before I got back out, I knew it’d been the click of the door.
I crossed to the window, pulling back the curtain to see his Jeep disappearing out of the parking lot.
9
Kent
I prefer spending my extra time in the ocean. But this morning I couldn’t bring myself to get to the beach in time to catch a wave.
Instead, I stood under the spray of the shower, pressing my forehead against the marble until the heat scorched the fog in my head.
When my phone rang in the next room I stepped out, hitting the speaker button as drops of water still clung to my hand. “You know you don’t need to check up on me.”
“I’m not checking up on you. I’m checking up on Ethan’s vinyl collection. He woke up in a sweat after some dream that it’d been stolen.”
“Nope.” I cast a look out the guest room door as I knotted the towel around my hips. “Maybe a side effect of vacationing at altitude.”
Jordan laughed. “It’s hardly been the vacation we planned on. I’ve been on conference calls every day for our Fashion Week show this fall in New York. Plus Ethan’s doing business twenty-four/seven. He has this idea of revolutionizing the way the West Coast does condos.”
I pictured my friend making a face.
“You keeping an eye on our girl?” she asked as I reached in my duffel bag for a clean pair of jeans.
“You mean Dal.” My fingers stilled on the button.
The girl who’d swapped friendly texts with me by day. Then appeared in the last place I’d expected, looking like a mirage in the desert.
The scrap of clothing covering her body barely qualified as a dress, but that wasn’t what did me in. When she looked up at me with those eyes, wide and turned on, asking if I wanted her… Seeing that brave girl trust me not once but twice.
It was humbling.
It was God-making.
When her hands snuck under my shirt, her cool touch turning me on like nothing in recent memory, I couldn’t not kiss her.
I’d been fucking lost in her from the second she slid a hand down her body. When I laid my hands on her, I was drowning. I’d needed to taste her, touch her, show her how good it would be.
Because I knew it would. I knew it like I’d never known anything in my life.
Until she’d started saying those words that had the room closing in on me, that yanked me back to reality faster than anything else could.
Part of me had wanted to throw everything out the window. To carry her to the bed, or the couch, or the damned floor and discover every inch of her body with every inch of mine.
But that would’ve been the worst kind of weakness. Dal wasn’t the kind of girl I normally wound up with. That was part of the reason I was so attracted to her.
Still, I had no right to go there with her. Especially when she looked up at me like she wanted to spill secrets that could hurt us both.
So I’d left.
“We have high hopes for her.” Jordan’s voice cut into my thoughts, but the ache in my chest lingered. “She’s going to be the future of our business on the West Coast. But I need her to get a win this week with this interview.” She paused. “I know you care about her.”
I reached for a T-shirt, tugging the material over my head.
“Of course I care about her,” I said finally. “Like I care about you.”
Jordan let out a low laugh. “If you looked at me like you look at Dal, Ethan would bury you under the floorboards instead of letting you sleep in the guest room.”
And there it was.
There are lots of ways to care about someone. You can look out for them. Be interested in what they have to say, in whether they reach thei
r dreams.
Being with someone physically was safe. Even if part of me knew it would never be satisfying, I could keep it in a box, draw a line between what we’d done and everything that mattered in my life. My friends. My boards. My family.
With Dal, I couldn’t draw any lines. And her whispered half-confession last night reminded me of exactly why.
Because she’s not some girl you can sleep with and forget when it stops making sense. She’s the real deal, and if you’re not careful, someone will get hurt.
“Kent. Are you okay?” Jordan asked, sounding surprised.
“Yeah.” I rubbed a hand over my damp neck. “I’ll catch you later. Tell Ethan his vinyl’s safe.”
But Jordan’s words dogged me as I fixed a coffee and went outside to my Jeep.
I navigated down the coast to Huntington Beach, my gas dwindling to dangerously low levels.
I owed Dal a text—no, a call—after the way I’d bailed last night.
But if I’d stayed with her, if I’d followed her to her room, pulled her under me, there was no telling what would happen.
Jordan wanted me to help Dal, but I could barely keep my own shit together.
I looked around my space, the boards I’d poured my blood, sweat, and tears into. Then I kicked the tent peg, shoving my hands in my pockets and starting out across the sand.
She was the perfect wave. Impossible to resist, even when you knew it might be your last.
As if Dal could read my mind, a text appeared.
Dal: Hey. I got some images from the photographer and wanted to share them.
I jerked out my phone and started typing. Then erased it as dots appeared.
Dal: He’s coming back for re-shoots later. If you see anything you want more of, let me know
I dropped onto the edge of a picnic table next to the cafe food truck, unable to resist clicking through the link.
“Three and a half feet, sixteen seconds.” The familiar voice had me looking up before Tasha dropped onto the seat next to me.
I turned, looking out toward the ocean. A guy took a wave and my brain analyzed as he carved, switching frontside to backside. “North swells.”
“Yup.” She rested her elbows on the top of the picnic table behind her, the faded tank top following her movement. “What’re you so engrossed in?”
I held out the phone and she leaned forward, peering over the screen at the photos.
“Those are good. Send them to me.”
“Why.”
“So I can include a picture of your boards when I tell the world you’re sponsoring me.”
I pulled my Ray-Bans down my nose. “I have no budget, Tasha.”
“I know. But you said you’d give me the board I rode yesterday to ride for semis. So it’s only fair to credit you.”
“Thank you.” I meant it.
“Guess how many times I’ve been approached by sponsors.”
“I’m not in the mood—”
“Five. This year.” My brows rose. “And I always said no. You know why?”
“Couldn’t guess.”
“Because they want to sell product. They don’t understand that.” She pointed toward the beach. “I looked you up. You were good. Why’d you stop?”
I shrugged. “My grandfather was my biggest fan. When he died, I realized it wasn’t the same. All I saw was how much money I had to pour into it. Figured I’d better grow up. No offense.”
Tasha flashed a grin. “None taken.”
“I haven’t followed the tour since I went to school. I couldn’t stand to see what I was missing out on.”
“But you still go out there.”
“Every day.”
She nodded. “Then fuck the tour. It’s not about that. If you love something, you never really walk away from it. It’s obvious in every board you make.” She took my phone, flipping through the images. “What’s with the clothes?”
“My friend’s company.”
“The girl at the bar last night.” Tasha raised a brow. “You guys are cute.”
“We’re just friends.” I took the phone from her, looking at the photo of Dal, laughing with one of the other girls behind the register. Her lips curved, her eyes bright as she shared a moment with Kyla, I think her name was.
Friends. The kind of people who supported each other. Who didn’t walk out on each other.
Guilt snaked through my gut. I’d bailed on her not once, but twice. Sure, I’d thought it was the right thing to do. But what if that wasn’t a good enough reason?
She needed my help, and I wasn’t there for her.
“I have to go.”
“You’re not staying to watch semis?”
“Nah. You’ll do great.” I shifted off the picnic table, my pulse hammering in my forehead as I reached for my keys and my wallet, praying I had enough for gas.
10
Dal
“He wants you.” Kyla murmured the words against the rim of her coffee cup.
“He’s doing his job.” I sighed, looking up from the computer. Dmitri, oblivious, lined up shot after shot of clothes and boards, pausing to send me a smile every few minutes.
“Re-shoots my ass. The pictures were perfect. The question is, what are you going to do?”
“Nothing.”
She bumped my hip with hers. “Come on, Dal. He’s hot.”
My gaze ran over his lean frame, the long-sleeved shirt rolled up to the elbows, his deliberately styled hair.
All of it did nothing for me.
“I’m finished,” Dmitri announced, his voice smooth and his smile bright enough to blind me.
“Thanks so much.”
“We should make a date to review them together, don’t you think?”
“Ah—“ I felt Kyla’s I-told-you-so eyes on me “—I appreciate it, Dmitri. But it’s a crazy week getting ready for the interview with Emma, and I didn’t sleep at all last night.”
He lifted a shoulder, like he truly didn’t care. “Suit yourself. But you’re meeting Janice tomorrow. Not Emma.”
I straightened. “Excuse me? I thought it was Emma.” I flipped through my calendar with tense fingers.
He checked his phone. “It’s Janice. Good luck.” With a wave, he shouldered his equipment and slipped out the door, lifting his phone to his ear and speaking in some language I couldn’t place.
The blood drained from my head and Kyla’s eyes went round. “Who’s Janice?”
“The gotcha journalist of lifestyle publications. She wrote this scathing article about the new development in the Hills,” I murmured. “Ethan knew about it, he told me pre-sales went from fifteen in a week to zero.”
“Shit,” Kyla whispered.
Normal people do this. Sit down and talk with another person.
Which was what Janice was.
Even if everything I’d turned up pointed to her being the devil. Or at least, asking questions that made everyone look bad, that turned the most composed business owner inside out.
Kyla went to help a customer and I typed “how not to choke” into the search engine.
Heimlich diagram.
Heimlich video.
The fifth entry down was a Men’s Health article geared at how to land that promotion by improving your pickup basketball performance.
“Preparation is everything,” I murmured, reading the heading.
Which I’d been planning on doing. With Kent, who’d practically suggested it.
But now, he was nowhere to be found.
What pissed me off more was the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking of him.
How he’d looked at that bar.
How he’d driven me and Mac home.
How he’d touched me like it was the only thing he wanted in the world.
Right up until he walked out.
I shifted close enough to the screen that my eyes crossed, the black type blurring in front of me.
I mean, okay. I’m not a kissing ninja, but I’ve never heard any outright c
omplaints.
Did he think I was going to go all doe-eyed and profess my love for him or something?
Of course not.
At least, I’m pretty sure I wasn’t going to. Sure, his tongue had this uncanny ability to make me melt, and the way he’d touched me might’ve had me saying things I wasn’t entirely aware of…
Okay, I had some feelings for him. Maybe hanging out with him these last few days gave me more optimism that there could be a guy out there for me. One who made me happy and breathless and bold in the best possible way.
Still. What mattered right now was securing my future at this company.
I shook myself, forcing my gaze to refocus on the words on the screen. “Visualize what you want.”
The doorbell dinged and I looked up.
Kent stood inside the doorway. The faded green T-shirt hugged his body and made his eyes look like the stormy sea. His gaze locked on me and he crossed the room in a few short strides, rounding the front desk as if he belonged there. “We need to talk.”
He looked completely edible and my body was suddenly remembering last night.
I unclenched my hand from the mouse. “I have to get ready for the interview.” I shot him a pointed look before turning back to the screen.
Picture your competition naked.
“What the hell kind of advice is this?” I x’ed out of the window.
My jaw clenched, I turned to find Kent staring down at me, those impossibly blue eyes full of stubborn determination. “I’m not leaving.”
I wished I’d worn heels so I didn’t have to look up at him, because every second I did made me want to give in.
“Fine.” I brushed past Kent and headed for the storage room. After he followed me in I shut the door behind us, pressing my back against it. “You want to talk? You drove me home last night. And then I…and then we…”
He shoved his hands in his pockets, the corner of his mouth twitching. “We’re back to this, huh?”
“Stop!” The half-smirk, as if I was an amusing kid, made me want to scream. “The point is, you bailed on me last night.”
The smile fell away. “I know.”
