“Sure.” Really? You’re going to act like nothing happened between us? This is what we’re going to discuss after what happened earlier?
“Well, then, I’ll leave you two alone to discuss it.” Jesse disappears into the crowd.
Wyatt leaves his arm around my shoulder, and for a minute we just stand there in a bubble of discomfort among the music blaring and the waves crashing and people laughing and carrying on. I’m surprised that the urge to push him away isn’t stronger than it is, but my heart is so full of him that even the hurt he causes me isn’t enough to make me want to push him away. His kisses consumed me. His touch made me feel ripe with desire and sexy in a way no man ever has, and I want more of it all. I want more of Wyatt.
He starts walking, and I’m moving alongside him, pressed to his side like old times, only my heart is hammering and my pulse is racing, and I’m not sure if I’m mad about earlier or if I’m hopeful for what this moment might bring.
We walk down the beach until the music becomes faint, and then we sink down to the sand. I’m still tucked beneath his arm, and it seems our bubble of discomfort has morphed into a bubble of silence, because neither of us says a word. It used to be that we could sit in silence all afternoon and never feel funny. Now every second that ticks by feels like an hour. I don’t like this new us. I wish I had magic shoes that could transport me back in time with a click of my heels.
I wish. I wish. I wish.
But I don’t have any magic shoes, and when Wyatt turns his dark green eyes on me and looks at me like he wants to kiss me again, there’s no place in the world I’d rather be.
Part of me hates that I’m a weak girl right now, falling under his spell and not wanting to break free. But another part of me feels his warmth, knows his kindness and generosity, and there’s no denying that he long ago claimed a piece of my heart that I know no one will ever be able to touch. I tell myself that it’s okay to be a swooning, weak girl when I’m with him.
“Are you okay?” His jaw isn’t clenched and his hands aren’t fisted, but his eyes are filled with what looks like regret. I don’t want it to be regret, so I hope I’m reading him wrong. He’s not really looking at me. His eyes are partially occluded by his hair, so I convince myself that maybe I’m misinterpreting it altogether.
It’s a simple question, one he’s asked me often. But the answer will be so telling that I hesitate. Am I okay? No, not really. But this very second, sitting with Wyatt like we used to, being in his world again? Yes. I’m okay right now. I love Wyatt’s world. I don’t respond, because if I tell him I’m okay, he’ll think I really am, and if I tell him I’m not, then he’ll feel worse than I think he already does.
“Cass?” He runs his finger through my hair, and it reminds me of his big hands tangled in it when we were making out.
I like that too much and fall deeper into him. My body sinks into his side. “Yeah?”
“We left things sort of hanging before, and I thought we should talk. I really missed you this week.”
He hasn’t shaved in at least a few days, and I find myself staring at the spot where the scruff on his cheeks meets his mustache. I reach up and touch my upper lip, remembering the way it tickled when we kissed, and I feel myself smile.
“I missed you, too.” I can’t drag my eyes away. I remember the feel of his tongue dragging across my lower lip, and wish I could feel it again. Nothing will ever come close to the feel and taste of his delicious kisses or the way his weight on top of me felt perfect and right.
He pulls me closer against him. Our knees are bent and our legs are pressed together from hip to calf. I feel the familiar rush of anticipation that vibrated through my body right before our lips met for the first time. I don’t ever want that feeling to go away, and I know it’s going to. I know he’s going to tell me we can’t be together, because didn’t he already tell me that once? But I’m not ready to hear it yet, so I stay in my bubble of bliss and hope he doesn’t pop it too soon.
Wyatt wraps his other arm around me and hugs me close. He presses his lips to my forehead, and I hear him breathe me in. I love the sound of it, like he’s memorizing my scent.
“Cass, kissing you was like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”
Thank you, thank you, thank you, God!
“Was it like that for you?” he asks.
This is one of the things I love about Wyatt. He talks and shares his emotions with me in a way that most guys don’t, and I know he doesn’t share them with other girls. It might have taken him six days to come back to me, but he did. Boy, did he ever.
I drop my eyes and nod. “Yeah.” I don’t spill my heart to him, because I still don’t trust where we’re headed. I’m afraid I’ll scare him off. I heard him loud and clear in my bedroom, and he wasn’t spewing an invitation for more. He was telling me that it was a mistake. A risk. I’ve never been very risky, but boy do I ever want to take this risk with him.
He touches my cheek and tilts my face up, so we’re looking into each other’s eyes. He’s so handsome and his eyes are so serious that it takes all of my concentration to remember to breathe in, exhale, then repeat it again and again.
“I want to kiss you again.” His voice is tender, but his eyes are dark and his stare feels urgent. His thumb slowly strokes my cheek as his fingers draw me closer to his lips.
“Cass.”
His breath whispers across my skin.
“I don’t know why it’s happening now, after all these years. It’s the totally wrong thing for us to do,” he says against my lips. I want to press our mouths together, to silence his words until they don’t exist.
“Why?” The word escapes before I can stop it. I don’t want to hear the answer. I’m afraid it’s going to make sense, and I don’t want that. I wish I could take it back. His fingers tighten against the back of my neck. His thumb presses against my jaw, making me even more aware of how close our mouths are.
“It’s tricky.” His other hand finds my thigh and holds me tight, like he’s afraid I’ll run away.
If only he knew that I don’t have control over any of my muscles at the moment.
“Why?” I manage.
“What if we…don’t make it? What if we do this…?” The word lingers between us, begging to be defined. “And it doesn’t work between us? I can’t lose you, Cass. It’s too much. I need you.”
“You need me.” I don’t know why I’m repeating him. Maybe to reiterate it to myself, but my brain isn’t working right. All I hear inside my head is kiss me, kiss me, kiss me.
His lips curve up at the ends. “More than you’ll ever know.”
“Then show me.”
His eyes darken like a lion about to claim his prey, and in the next second our lips touch, my eyes close, and the smell of the sea, the sound of the waves, and the cold sand beneath my feet fall away. There’s only Wyatt’s talented tongue, his luscious lips, and his strong hands touching me, sweeping my body beneath his. He settles over me with such ease, it’s like we’ve been together forever. He laces our fingers together and pins them beside my head as we kiss until my head spins. He’s hard. Rock-hard, and oh my Lord does he feel good. And big. Huge. I want to touch his body, to feel his strength inside me, but he’s got my hands pinned as he stares into my eyes with a look that says he wants to take me right here and now. I rock my hips, letting him know I’m right there with him. His eyes narrow, and he presses my hands deeper into the sand.
“Cassidy.” My name sounds like a warning as he grinds his hard cock against me, leaving no room for misinterpretation of his desires.
“I want you, Wyatt. I want this.” I’ve never said those words before. With Kyle I had sex because it was what was expected of me after dating for so long, but I never wanted him like I want Wyatt. I’m wet between my legs, swollen with need. My heart is beating like a battering ram against my chest, like it’s going to break through just to reach him.
He releases one of my hands, and I run my fingers down the ba
ck of his arm. I love the feel of him. He scoops his hand beneath my back and presses me to him.
“Cass.” It’s a guttural whisper against my cheek. “I want to be inside you. I want to feel you take every inch of me in and I want to love you until you can’t remember a time we weren’t together. I want to make you mine in every sense of the word.”
“Yes.” I realize it’s all I’ve ever wanted.
“Risky.” He draws back and searches my eyes, and I wonder why he doesn’t see the remedy.
“Then we’ll go inside.”
“Us. We’re risky.”
I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. I’ve completely misunderstood. I thought he meant being there on the beach, out in the open. I hear myself suck in air and I try to turn away, but my eyes betray me. They’re frozen on his, and anger bubbles out of my mouth like someone turned on a faucet.
“We’re risky, Wyatt? You fuck half the girls at school and we’re risky?” I can’t believe how bitchy I’m being, but I can’t stop myself as I struggle to get out from beneath him. His eyes widen, and his jaw falls open. I’ve taken him as much by surprise as I’ve taken myself.
Good. Let him hurt.
“Cassidy, that’s not what I meant.”
I flail my arms until my hands break free from his grasp, and I push him off of me.
“I can’t do this, Wyatt.” I stand and brush the sand from my clothes.
“Cassidy, wait.” He reaches for me, and I turn away and stomp back toward the house. He’s beside me in two seconds flat.
“You’re my best friend. You’re Delilah’s friend.”
“Big shit.” I can’t help it. It just comes out.
“Big shit? Is that what our friendship means to you? Cassidy, I can’t lose you. I can’t make out with you, make love to you, and then realize we don’t work and lose my best friend in the whole world.”
I stop walking, feeling like steam is coming out of my ears. My hands fist at my sides, and I force myself to face him.
“That’s what life is, Wyatt. One fucking risk after another. We won’t know if we work without trying. That’s the reality of life. We might work, or we might not, and if we don’t, then we don’t, but at least we would have tried.”
He clenches his jaw and steps in close. Then his eyes soften, and he tilts his head just a fraction of an inch. I wouldn’t even notice if I weren’t so in love with everything about him that I have every one of his mannerisms memorized. A flutter of hope floats in my chest. He reaches for my hand and drops his eyes to my lips, making my body hum all over again. How can he do that with just a look? For a split second I think he’s going to kiss me and tell me I’m right. When he lifts his eyes to mine again, the desire I saw before is tethered, as if he’d thrown a lasso and pulled it back in. He squeezes my hand.
“Nothing is worth the risk of losing your friendship, or losing you in my life forever.”
“Well, you’re doing a hell of a job of pushing me away.” I turn around, worried about the same thing he is, glad it’s just as important to him as it is to me, but I want him so desperately that I can’t control my emotions. He grabs my arm and pulls, and I stumble and fall against his chest. He takes me in a deep, passionate kiss that steals any chance I have at rational thought. I feel the rigidity of my muscles melting against him and hear the music filter back into my ears. What am I doing? He just told me we’re not worth the risk.
But this feels so good.
He feels so good.
He tastes so—stopstopstop!
My body stiffens, and I push away as my brain begins to fire again. We stare at each other for a long moment. He’s lightly holding my wrists, like he expects that I’m going to come right back into his arms.
I want to. Lord, how I want to.
But I made a really bad judgment call with Kyle, and I’m not going there. I know Wyatt. I trust Wyatt. I trust him with my life, and I trust him with my friendship, but he’s a one-night-stand guy, and I have no idea why after all this time this is just coming to the forefront of my mind. But it is. And it’s staring back at me like a marquee. I can trust him with so much of myself, and I’m ready to hand over my heart, even after he told me not to. He must know he can’t be trusted with it.
I should probably thank him for knowing himself well enough to protect us both, but all I can do is wonder how he can do this to me and try to remember I’m strong enough to get through this. I’m strong enough to survive without him. I’m not a weak girl! I’m smart and strong, and I survived being left behind for years, being forgotten, being cheated on. I can survive loving Wyatt Armstrong and losing him.
I pull my arms free and narrow my eyes in an effort to keep my angry tears from falling. I don’t have the words to say what I feel. How can I tell my best friend that he’s just broken my heart worse than the guy I dated for two years? How can I tell him that he’s drawn the line, and I’m not going to be foolish and force myself on him? I can’t afford to make another bad decision.
Walking away from Wyatt is the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life, but somehow I know it’s the only choice I have.
Chapter Sixteen
~Wyatt~
THE MUSIC IS blaring as I watch Cassidy storm off and disappear into the crowd. My chest feels like it’s compressing, like it’s too small to hold everything in and my body’s going to shatter into pieces right here in the sand. I need to go after her. I need to tell her all the things racing through my head, but I’m frozen in place. I’ve hurt her twice in one day, and I feel like shit. I stand at the edge of the crowd and watch her make her way across the deck, pushing her way through the people who are dancing. Tristan’s on her heels, and when she runs inside, he turns and scans the crowd. The scowl on his face is nothing compared to the knife I’m twisting in my own gut. He stalks down the steps and I wait, because I deserve whatever he’s going to dole out.
Tristan grabs my arm and drags me down by the water. His grip is tight, and if I didn’t feel like I deserved it, I’d knock him away, but I need the pain.
Down by the water the breeze is stronger, and it cools the sweat that’s formed on my brow. Tristan drops my arm and paces in front of me. He stops and puts his hands on his hips.
“What the hell?” His nostrils flare with anger. I expected him to slug me or to give me shit like I’d give anyone who hurt Cassidy. Instead, I’m staring at more than six feet and about two hundred pounds of muscle that could give me a fairly matched fight, and he doesn’t say another word. He doesn’t have to, because Tristan has these eyes that say a hundred things at once, and his message is loud and clear: I’m a dick.
“I love her, man. But she’s all we’ve got left besides you guys. She’s…” I cross my arms and turn away, realizing I’ve just admitted that I love Cassidy. I hadn’t even realized it myself, but hell if it isn’t the absolute truth.
Tristan scrubs his hand down his face, rubs the scruff on his chin. “Shit, Army. Then what the hell are you doing?”
I scoff, although what I really want to do is find myself in a back alley and beat the shit out of me. Since that can’t happen, I have no clue what to do but be pissed at myself.
“You love her? You’ve never been in love with a woman. You’ve never dated a woman for longer than a week.” Tristan lowers his chin and sets an assessing gaze on me.
“No shit.”
“So how do you know you love her?”
It’s a simple question. I bet a thousand guys could give you a million reasons how they know they love their girlfriends. I’ve got nothing. Not a single thing. I know what I love about Cassidy, which is every fucking thing, but how do I know I love her? All I can do is tell him the truth, no matter how lame it sounds.
“I don’t see fucking fireworks, if that’s what you’re looking for. She’s it for me, man. I feel it, okay? She’s always been the one for me and I’ve never let myself feel it. Hell, I didn’t even realize it until just now.”
His eyes soften,
but he doesn’t say a word. It’s like he’s trying to figure out if I’m full of shit, which, okay, yeah, sometimes I am, but not now. Never about Cassidy.
“I know it’s fucked up. You’re not supposed to fall for your best friend, especially when she’s your fucking twin sister’s good friend, too. And that’s why I’m letting her go, Tristan. I was a business major. I know all about assessing risk, and Cassidy? She deserves more than a risk. More than this risk. She needs me and Delilah as much as we need her, and I can’t screw that up for all of us.”
“Sit.” Tristan rarely gives commands, but the seriousness of his voice sends me to the sand. I’m relieved, actually, because what I feel like doing is taking off for a ten-mile run.
“You’ve got to tell her how you feel, all of it. To us you’re Army, the guy who parties hard and takes whomever he pleases. But to Cassidy, man, she sees all the things you don’t show us but we know are inside you. I’ve seen it in the way she looks at you, man. She loves you.”
I press my fingers and thumb to my temples and exhale loudly.
“She can’t love me, Tristan. If she gets that job in New York she’ll be leaving soon, and I’ve got all this crap to deal with. What are we going to do? Fall for each other and break up when she leaves? Because that’s worse, and you know me. I might not have had many girlfriends, but you’ve seen me with Cassidy. I’m possessive and protective of her, always have been. And that’s when we were just friends. Once I really let my feelings out, how long do you think I’d last with a long-distance relationship? You know damn well I’ll want her with me every second, and that’s not fair to her.” I pause, because the words vying to be released are more painful than any realization yet. But one look at Tristan’s expectant gaze and they fall free.
“And how long would it take for Cassidy to be swept off her feet by some rich city guy?”
“She doesn’t care about that bullshit, and you know it. That’s called jealousy, my friend. You’re just not used to it. You’re used to being possessive as a friend, but not jealous, like a boyfriend. It’s your own insecurities poking their ugly head out, and that’s okay. But Cassidy isn’t a cheater any more than you are.” Tristan pats me on the back. “Wyatt, what do you want with her? Because this crap you’re doing, making out one minute and walking away the next, it’s going to make you lose her faster than lightning.”
Catching Cassidy Page 15