The Last Plus One

by Ophelia London

  A split second later, he couldn’t see her face from all the water he was splashing at her—using both hands like the guys on the polo team had taught him. It was a literal wall of water.

  Her attempt to swim away was futile, but Hawk was forced to ease up when he was laughing so hard at her breathless giggles and pleas to stop.

  “White flag?” he asked, holding up one hand at an angle, ready to send another cut of water in her direction.

  “Yes, I truly and wholly surrender.”

  He quickly closed the distance between them. “That’s what I like to hear from you, Ashton James. Total submission.”

  “Show-off.”

  “Do not give me any of your sass, or you know I’ll make you pay in unimaginable ways.” He leaned in so their faces were only inches apart. “Believe me.”

  Just then, a wave crested, floating them high in the water. As it began to settle, the pull of the tide caused her soft body to crash right into him.

  Chapter 7

  Ashton didn’t even think about it. In a panic, she grabbed Hawk’s wrists, then his shoulders, then her arms were all the way around him, legs locked around his waist. When the water suddenly receded, all she could think to do was hold on.

  She could tell Hawk wasn’t steady on his feet yet, but every impulse in her body screamed to stay right where she was.

  “Whoa, whoa,” Hawk said, no doubt in major surprise. “It’s okay. You’re fine. We’re fine.”

  She knew they were fine, that she was fine. In fact, though her feet were off the ground, she felt as stable as a tree, yet her stomach and limbs were shaking. Maybe Hawk assumed she was in shock, because the next thing she knew, his arms were around her, too, holding her close.

  Then she felt about as unsteady as the lapping waves.

  When she still didn’t let go—enjoying the feel of so much of their skin touching, the feel of his strong muscles, the hard beating of his heart, his wet hair between her fingers—he said, “You can touch bottom now. It’s okay.”

  With eyes closed, she allowed herself one more moment of being this near to him before finally releasing her grip, letting her feet sink to the sand. The water was clear up to her bikini top—much higher than when they’d first swum out there.

  “Thanks,” she said, taking one backward step.

  “We’re safe,” he said, his voice strong and reassuring, making her want to hang onto him again. His hair was dripping and curly—insanely cute.

  She nodded in reply. “S-sorry.”

  “Are you all right?”

  “Why? Don’t I look all right?” Crap, did she have seaweed in her hair? Sand between her teeth?

  A slow smile spread across his face. “You look incredible,” he replied in a calm, quiet voice, meant only for her to hear.

  The comment made her lose her footing and stumble. It also made Hawk take her by the shoulders, drops of water trailing down his skin between the bulges of muscles. Maybe it was the pull of the ocean; maybe it was the pull going on inside her body to be near him—either way, she felt like an unanchored buoy in his arms.

  Gazes locked, as he drew her nearer, his head began to dip, while she felt her chin automatically tip up to meet him in the middle, her heart pounding in her ears, eyelids fluttering closed.

  Waiting…

  “Hey! Tide’s coming in fast! Everyone off the bar.”

  Opening her eyes, she found Hawk’s gaze gone from hers. She blinked at first, then zeroed in on the shore…at the guy calling out to them through cupped hands.

  “It’s not safe; we have to go in,” Hawk said, not letting go of her shoulders, yet drawing away, like he was helping her stay afloat, not about to kiss her.

  “Okay,” she said, unsure if she was annoyed or relieved by the seriously inconvenient tide.

  “Can you, um…” Wearing a serious expression, he nodded toward the shore.

  “Yeah—yes, I can swim. I’m fine. Thank you, um, again.”

  As he let her go, Ashton felt the heat of his body leaving. She wanted it back; she needed to be close to him again until she could memorize the wonderful feeling. But when? How?

  Side by side, they swam in silence for the first few minutes, heads down against the wind and waves. As they neared shore, Ashton couldn’t help pulling forward just enough to send one big splash back at him.

  “Woman,” he growled, gaining on her. “Don’t make me come after you.”

  If you only would… she thought, but then giggled and raced as fast as she could, both of them riding the same wave onto the shore.

  “I won!” she said, crawling on all fours, gasping and breathless.

  “You cheated,” Hawk said, sitting on his knees in the shallow surf. “And we weren’t racing. You’re so competitive.”

  “That’s what losers always say.” She kicked, sending a splash his way.

  He reached out and grabbed her foot, giving it the slightest tug. “Want to go back out there and prove it to me?” He had a shifty grin. “I won’t hold back this time.”

  Did he mean he wouldn’t hold back in swimming fast, or…that other thing…that thing that almost happened?

  From the sparkling gleam shining off Hawk’s chiseled and totally sexy face, Ashton had no idea which it was. They’d been out at the bar for over an hour, and she knew she was too tired to race back out there. But if he’d meant that other thing…

  Well, it was probably good they were interrupted.

  “I…think I should get back to the house,” Ash said, wishing she could spend hours out on the sand with Hawk, laughing and flirting—if that was what they were doing. She had no clue anymore. Was it possible to flirt with your best friend?

  “Now?” He looked disappointed. Perhaps he wanted a little more sunshiny flirting time, too. No, probably not. It was just the sun and lack of sleep that was making him so…attentive?

  So gorgeous? So hot?

  She blew out a breath and wrung the water out of her hair.

  “I feel bad about skipping last night,” she said. “I’ll head over to the yacht early to see if I can help out.” It was so typically richy-rich to have the stag party on a yacht, but that was what this whole weekend was about.

  Suddenly, Ashton felt guilty about something else. She’d hung out with Ty a few times in the last two days, but she’d barely seen Laurel at all. They were about to be sisters-in-law, and yet they’d only breezed by each other all week. Silently, Ashton made a personal promise to remedy that before Laurel’s feelings got hurt.

  That would also be a nice distraction from picturing Hawk’s perfectly toned bare chest that she longed to—

  “Good idea.” Hawk was already on his feet, rolling up their towels and picking up their picnic basket. “I’ll head to the house now, too.”

  “Cool,” she said nonchalantly. After all, it wasn’t like Hawk was leaving early solely so he could be with her. And she really needed to stop putting stupid ideas like that in her head. She might get used to it, spinning her expectations all out of whack. There was too much open air and sunshine around here. It made her feel all…

  “Shall we?” Hawk said, cutting into her thoughts. Looking all sexily towel-dried and whatever.

  Leaving the lovely sand and water behind, they took the trail toward the house. Her bedroom had a garden view, not an ocean one, and she could only imagine how stunning the vista might be from the other side of the hall.

  “That was fun,” Hawk said, holding the gate open for her.

  “What was?”

  For a moment, he looked at her kind of funny. “Swimming. We haven’t swum together in years.” He nudged her shoulder. “You’re a blast.”

  “How quickly you forget.” She nudged him back.

  “I know you want to get to the yacht early, but I wish we could’ve stayed out there longer.”

  “It was the tide’s fault,” she said as they neared the porch, weaving through rows of blooming flowers, junipers, and rows of blueberry bushes. “Plus, a
ll that holding back must be exhausting for you.”

  He stopped walking. “Holding back?”

  “Yeah.” She pulled at a hunk of her wet hair. “That’s what you said at the beach. That you’d been holding back. I assume you’re referring to what happened in the water.”

  “Nothing happened in the water,” he said, his eyebrows smashing together. “It could have. I wasn’t thinking—I mean, I was, but—”

  “Hawk.” She rested a hand on his arm and kept it there. On purpose. To see what he would do. “What are you jabbering about?”

  “Nothing.” He rubbed his jaw and looked away, not acknowledging her hand on him. “Sun must’ve fried my brain. Or maybe I’m dehydrated. My mind’s not…”

  As he faded out, she dropped her hand from his arm and continued toward the house. “Yeah. I get it.” Disappointment flooded her body, though she didn’t know what she’d expected him to say about the holding-back stuff. After all, she still didn’t know what he’d meant. Or what she’d meant.

  Ugh. What did it matter? All this overanalyzing was frying her brain, too. If even introducing the subject wrecked their friendship, it was so not worth it.

  “I’ll see you later,” Ashton said when they reached the bottom of the grand staircase. “Need to take care of some things before I go up.”

  Hawk wore that puzzled/disappointed expression again—the one that had no name yet. “Okay,” he said, then began up the stairs, his long, muscular legs, his bare back and arms, thick neck, wet red hair that looked almost black. It broke her happy concentration when he stopped and turned around.

  “About earlier,” he said, running a hand through the side of his hair. “With you, Ash, I’m always holding back.” He dipped his chin, smiled, then trotted up the stairs.

  With each step, Ashton felt more and more heated inside. Not from lust or anything like that, but something else.

  Perplexity? No.

  Frustration?

  Yes. Yes, it was pure sexual frustration.

  His fault. His fault!

  We talk and text and FaceTime practically every day. I thought he told me everything. What can he possibly be holding back?

  Why should she work so hard, set the perfect example of how to be open and honest if he was going to shrug it off? Okay, fine. Currently she wasn’t the best example of that, but still.

  Annoyed, she padded her way to the kitchen, hoping to find an oasis of appropriate daytime booze to get her mind off Hawk, and his stupid sexy smile that made her heart fly up her throat.

  “Hey.”

  Gah!

  “Laurel!” She gasped, then slammed shut the door to the pantry she’d been snooping through. “What are you doing in here?”

  “Hiding from my mother.” Laurel leaned against the counter and began pulling at the ends of her long blond hair. “They’ve got me on this insanely tight schedule. Would it ruin my entire wedding if I skipped the second cousin meet-and-greet?”

  When she rolled her eyes, Ashton laughed. “Sounds like a pain. Um, I was actually looking for you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Tyler’s soon-to-be wife grinned closed-mouthed, raised her sculpted brows, then peered at the pantry behind Ashton. “Seems more like you’re looking for…” Still grinning, she pointed to another door. “Our secret stash.”

  Inside were rows and rows of bottles. Ashton didn’t want to appear a total lush—drinking in the middle of the day. How would that look in front of her almost-sister-in-law? So she opted instead for a bottle of imported Swiss Alps water.

  “Were you going to volunteer to wear my dress around after the ceremony so I can sneak a piece of cake?”

  “What?” Ashton asked, after taking a small sip.

  “You said you were looking for me.”

  “Right. Yeah. Um… Just wanted to know how you’re doing. With the wedding and everything. You holding up?”

  Could she sound any more clichéd?

  Laurel smiled while gazing into the middle distance. “This is the happiest week of my life. I’m stressed out, probably losing hair, and I haven’t eaten a normal meal in weeks, but besides that, I can’t wait to start my new life with Ty. Your brother’s amazing.”

  “So he says,” Ashton replied with a wink. “I’m really happy for you both. And look on the bright side…at this point, there’s nothing you can do about it. In four days you’ll be on your honeymoon.”

  “Good point.” Laurel laughed and swung the skirt of her flowy dress. “Now, since we’re about to be sisters, do you want to talk about it?”

  Ashton looked up from where she’d been spinning the cap of her water bottle on the counter. “Talk about what?”

  “Whatever you’re pissed about.” Laurel tilted her head. “Is it a guy? Because if it’s a guy, no matter what the issue, I totally understand and take your side.”

  “Thanks.” Ashton chuckled under her breath. “You know I’m studying therapy and psychology, right? I’m used to asking people if they want to talk about it. Except in class and professional role-playing, no one ever asks me.”

  She paused and took a breath, figuring Laurel was so focused on her wedding that she might be a safe audience. After all, they weren’t that close, and she probably didn’t know her history with Hawk.

  “Yeah,” Ashton continued. “It’s kind of about a guy. I mean, yes, it’s one hundred percent about a guy.” She leaned on the counter to face Laurel. “But what burns me is I shouldn’t care. We’re friends—that’s it. I don’t know, maybe that why it’s so frustrating.”

  “Oooh.” Laurel grinned. “Sexual frustration. I’ve heard you talk about that.”

  I’m sure you have. Ashton inwardly rolled her eyes.

  “Isn’t that the best?” Laurel added. “And the worst. I get that, too.”

  “Oh, I’m not the one who’s sexually frustrated,” Ashton corrected, almost defensively. “It’s him. The guy’s holding back—apparently. Seriously repressed. I swear it’ll give him a stroke one day. What he needs is a way to unleash all that repression. A good roll in the hay, a night or two of full-blown debauchery.”

  “You should give it to him.”

  “Me?”

  While eyeing Ashton like a wise older sister, Laurel crossed her arms, engagement ring blinking under the lights. “Why not? You’re a professional—oh, not a sex professional, but a therapist.” She leaned a hip against the counter. “I’ve heard your philosophy on the subject.”

  “I’m loud, I know.”

  “Nothing to be ashamed of. People should get their feelings out.”

  “Right? That’s what I’m constantly saying. But do you think he listens?”

  “Men.” Laurel shook her head in sisterly camaraderie, then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Sugar shit. I gotta go before Mom has a coronary.” She walked around the kitchen island, gave Ashton a quick hug, and headed toward the door. “I hope your friend gets all the help he needs. And I hope you both get past your”—she paused to smile—“frustration.”

  Then she was gone.

  Yeah, whatever. Like Ashton was suitable at all to bust Hawk free of his repression. If he was “holding back,” that was his fault. And yeah, okay, so she was, like, uber-attracted to him and loved being around him more than anybody. But that wasn’t her job.

  She wasn’t about to push the boundaries of their friendship, no matter how it made her core tremble whenever she thought about those last few seconds at the sandbar.

  Hawk had such a major case of tunnel vision that at the top of the stairs, he actually ran headfirst into one of the marble pillars.

  “Careful, buddy.”

  While rubbing a hand across his forehead, Hawk looked up to see Tyler.

  “Hey. I was looking for you.”

  “What’s up?” Ty glanced at Hawk’s attire. “Were you at the beach?”

  “Nice day for it—the beach. Sunny. Not too hot. Warm enough.” Why was he talking like a dork?

  Easy answer…

  I
t was because right now, this wasn’t his oldest buddy standing before him. It was the older, protective brother of the woman he could not stop thinking about, wondering what it would be like to take her in his arms again, to fully love her. Open and unafraid. Despite all the reasons not to.

  “O…kay…?” Ty shook his head, perplexed but amused. “Anyway, you were looking for me?”

  “Yeah.” Hawk scraped his fist across his chin, knowing he needed to shave before tonight. Or maybe not. Hadn’t Ashton mentioned she liked his stubble? “Sorry I bailed on you last night. I’m a pretty worthless best man.”

  “Dude, it’s no problem. I know you had to be in Bangor. How did it go?”

  “Awesome. Really awesome.” He smiled, thinking of the way Ashton looked as she dashed from his car to get pie. How she looked when they pretended to be a couple in front of Knickerbocker. And especially how she looked that morning, sleeping so sweetly and peacefully in the bed they’d shared.

  “I mean, it went great—the interview. Ash was a big help.”

  “Ashton went with you?” Tyler stuck out his chin, though not full-on glaring. “Dude, we talked about this.”

  Yes, they had. And Hawk had made the conscious decision then to not set the record straight about his last college girlfriend.

  “She came as my friend,” Hawk said. “For moral support. Didn’t she tell you? I know she texted your parents.”

  “She might’ve. I haven’t been checking.”

  “The man who interviewed me from the school was pretty taken with her. He’d probably give me the job in a heartbeat if he thought Ash was part of a package deal.”

  “Your interviewer met her?”

  Stop talking, man. “Only because she was already in the restaurant eating pie when he showed up.”

  “Oh.” Ty’s jaw unclenched slightly. “She does like blueberry pie.”

  More like she’s obsessed with it, Hawk thought with an inward smile, remembering that one smudge of purple filling on the corner of her mouth. At the time, it had driven him to distraction.

  “Did something happen between you two?”

  “No. Of course not. Why?”