by Anthology
I swallowed. “Uh, I have to go.” When I yanked myself from his long, muscular arms, I sensed the loss immediately. Damn, it felt too good to be in that space.
“Wait!” he shouted as I ran away. “Fin!”
Mortified, I rushed toward the door. Moments later, Stef was beside me. “What the hell happened back there?”
“That guy? The one you wanted me to kiss?”
“Did he hurt you?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t some random guy, Stef.”
“Who was it?”
“Reid. Reid Watson.”
“Holy shit.” His tone said he knew what I’d been thinking—I’d kissed the guy we’d both lusted after all through high school, the one who’d inspired Kelsey to bully us during those four years.
“And you kissed him?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Did he kiss you back?” I nodded. “Really kissed you?”
“Turned me inside out. Oh, my God. I could not have imagined he’d kiss like that.”
“Seriously? He’s that good?”
“Colin? Colin who?”
“Damn. What are you going to do?”
“Get the hell out of here. I can’t face him! It’s Reid! I can’t even look at him without conjuring inappropriate fantasies.”
“You and me both,” he muttered. “Oh, shit. He’s coming outside. Quick! Let’s go!”
With that, we scurried to the car, and I was damn glad that Stef had planned to be DD because there was no way in hell I wanted to wait around for a ride.
By the time we’d arrived at Vince’s, I’d sobered considerably. A few glasses of water and pre-emptive ibuprofen, and I woke ready for a run instead of hung over.
Not that it made a difference in my shame. This was why I didn’t drink. I leaned toward foolish when alcohol hit my blood, and I knew better than to tempt fate. Usually.
I’d promised Stef that we could walk down to the beach, so we found a cooler, stocked it with water, and lugged that, the umbrella, beach chairs, and our bags to the sand in front of the house. At this early hour, not many people had arrived, so it was the perfect time to run the beach and take a swim.
Stef parked himself beneath the umbrella and promptly returned to a dozing position. I texted him my plan, inserted my earbuds, cranked my music, then picked up the pace.
Half a mile from the house, as “Mine” began to play, someone entered my peripheral vision. Soon, they matched my steps, but they ran in my blind spot. Though it seemed odd, I attempted to ignore them.
Until I turned at the mile mark and nearly crashed into the same sparkling smile that had haunted my dreams (and okay, fantasies) last night.
“Oof!” I declared as my shoulder bumped into his bicep. We both stopped. “Are you following me?”
Reid removed his earbud. “What was that?”
I paused as Taylor sang about Romeo and pebbles. “I asked if you were following me.”
He laughed. “I could ask you the same.”
“I’m running on the beach where I’m staying.”
“Funny, so am I.”
“Wait, what?” That could not be possible.
“My family has had a house on this beach since before my dad was born. What about you?” Panting as he attempted to catch his breath, he exuded sex appeal.
I cleared my throat. “Family friend’s house.” That was close enough. Vince was a family friend.
“Well, then you won’t mind if I run beside you back the same way we came, right?”
It would only make things worse if I pitched a fit. “Fine.” I touched play and ran along the shore. To lose him, I increased my speed a little as we neared Vince’s house. He met me stride for stride. I pushed for an all-out sprint, and he didn’t relent. Finally, I saw the bright blue umbrella, and I slowed. Reid did the same.
Breathless, I tapped stop. “What were you doing?”
“Racing?” His damn grin infuriated me. That, and the sweat glistening on his naked chest muscles. In the daylight, he was more beautiful than I’d thought last night, all ripples and sinew and crap. Which reminded me of my stupidity.
My lack of response didn’t deter him. “Unless you were running away from me again?”
Ass. “No.” His brows rose. “Fine. Yes.”
“And why would you do that, Fin? Am I a terrible kisser?”
More like the best kisser I’d ever had, but I wasn’t going to say that aloud. “That was a mistake.”
“Really? Didn’t feel like a mistake.” He leaned closer, still panting. “I heard you moan.”
“That was before I knew it was you.” Damn, that was a low blow, but I was desperate.
He stood straighter. “Okay. I guess your boyfriend must look like me from behind.”
Before my brain could tell my mouth to shut it, I blurted, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Reid smiled wider. “Good to know.” He crossed his arms and cocked a hip, all casual as if this was just some normal conversation between friends. “Have coffee with me.”
“No.” Did my voice sound shaky? It was from that last bit of exertion during the race. Must be.
“Come on. We’ve already kissed. Coffee can’t hurt.”
I backed away. “No can do. Big plans this week. Sorry. Have a nice vacation!” I ran straight toward the house, didn’t pass Go, did not collect Stef or our belongings.
Slamming the door, I rushed into the bathroom and stripped my clothes, hopped in the shower and turned it to cold. Because even the idea of coffee with Reid Watson, after sharing that electric kiss, made me ache between my thighs.
Damn, this was going to be a long week.
In the kitchen, Stef’s nostrils flared as he glared at me. “Do you know how embarrassing it was to field questions from Reid Watson while you licked your non-existent wounds in the bathroom? Hmm?”
God, he could be a drama queen. “Sorry, your highness.”
“Shut up. You forgot how to flirt.”
“I have no interest in flirting with Reid Watson.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Come again?”
“I told him you were free tonight.”
“You did what?” My heart beat a million miles an hour. This could not happen. Reid and me, we were a bad idea.
“It’s not a lie. I have a date.”
“How the hell do you have a date?”
“While you were getting your lip action with Reid, I was practicing the skills you’ve lost. Dash is off tonight. We’re going to dinner and a movie.”
“Bartender guy? Seriously?”
“Yes! He’s fabulous.”
“I can’t believe you told Reid I’m free tonight.”
“He asked if we had plans, and I told him that I had a date. It was a gut reaction. I couldn’t help it.”
I knew what he meant; interacting with Reid had always been that way for both of us. We did a lot of blurting around him. Stupid, pathetic exclaiming without boundaries.
“How did I factor into it?”
“He asked if my plans were with you and seemed relieved at my no. Guess he didn’t get the Kovac is gay memo.”
A laugh erupted involuntarily. “Oh, my God, Stef.”
“What? It’s true. I mean, how did he not notice?”
“Probably for the same reason that he never realized how much I drooled over him in high school.” With another deep breath, I said, “I’m heading to Dunkin’s. Vince has shitty coffee. Want anything? Or to go with me?”
“Grab me a large, will you? After that little encounter, I need a shower and some alone time.”
“Ugh. I did not need to know that.”
“You didn’t do the same?” The flush on my cheeks told the truth. “Exactly. That slice on the beach still inspires me.”
“I’m leaving,” I shouted as I walked away, grabbing my keys along the route. Visions of Stef as he thought about Reid were n
ot on my list of pleasant images.
Within ten minutes or so, I’d found a nearby Dunkin Donuts. While I stood in line, I sent a text to Stef to ask about muffins, then texted Anna, the inn’s chef, giving her shit about their little scam to get me down here. Her desperate response made me laugh—she alluded to a possible firing if she didn’t comply, which we both knew was bullshit. My parents not only adored her, but they also were not stupid enough to think they’d function without her.
“Must be a hilarious message,” Reid’s voice said in my ear. I jumped.
“Do you always sneak up on people like that?” I snapped.
He took it in stride and grinned again, the jerk. “Only when they’re adorable, occupied former classmates.”
If I’d bothered to still look at him, he’d have seen my eyes roll. But I refused. If I glimpsed at him, it’d be like Medusa, only I wouldn’t turn to stone, I’d turn to mush.
“We can’t keep meeting like this,” he murmured, his mouth close to my ear again. And I swear to God, I almost melted right there in the middle of Dunkin’s.
After I cleared the frog, I muttered, “We weren’t meeting this morning, and we’re not meeting now.”
“I think the universe must be telling us something, then. Three times in twelve hours can’t be a coincidence. We haven’t seen each other in nearly four years.”
“Imagine that.”
“She does speak!”
I whirled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you seem to run every time I see you. I was wondering if you planned to skip coffee and run now.”
“You’re a jerk,” I said as I faced the counter again. Damn, this line was long.
“Hey.” I ignored him. After last night, I already felt like an ass. “Fin.” Reid’s palm squeezed my right shoulder. “Come on,” he begged. “Talk to me. Please.”
Oh, God. I couldn’t take his pleading. A shiver ran down my spine. “What?” I bit. But, damn, I didn’t mean it. If I’d said it honestly, he’d have heard me panting without any real effort. That voice, it was warm, salted caramel on a sundae—it melted everything and only made it better.
Finally, I turned. “What do you want me to say?”
“Say that you’ll have coffee with me. We’re both here, and you can sit at the next table if you’re too embarrassed to be seen in my company. We can talk adjacent, and you can pretend you’re not really with me.”
“You just don’t give up, do you?”
“I’ve been told I’m persistent.”
“How about a pain in the ass?”
“That, too.” There was that gorgeous smile again. “What do you say?”
“I’ll buy my own coffee.”
His hands rose in a surrender motion. “If you prefer. But when I take you on a date, I’m buying. I insist.”
“That’s a huge assumption.”
“Persistent, remember? And irresistible.”
It was my turn, so I didn’t retort. Once I’d ordered, I moved to the side to wait. A minute later, Reid joined me.
“Want to sit there?” He pointed at the two-person tables.
Against my better judgment, I gestured to the corner table. “We can sit at that round one.”
“Ooh. Bold choice,” he joked, and I made sure to roll my eyes at him this time. He winked. Nothing fazed him.
As we sat and adjusted our seats, our knees bumped. I did my best to ignore it, but Reid wouldn’t let me. “Sorry. Personal foul.”
To avoid smiling, I sipped my coffee, but it didn’t work.
“Huh. She does smile,” Reid noted, an adorable smirk lifting his mouth. “So, tell me, what brings you to Destin?”
That was how he was going to play it? Okay. “I could ask you the same. Why aren’t you in Panama City or Miami?”
“Family house. Remember? Plus, I hate the hoopla around spring break. And you didn’t answer.”
Tilting my head, I sighed. “Touché.” His brows rose, and he batted his lush lashes at me. “Fine. My parents basically forced me.”
The hearty laugh startled me and drew attention to us.
“Why is that so funny?”
“You’re what, twenty-two, right? And your parents had to make you go to Florida for spring break. What could possibly deter you from fun in the sun?”
“My father had a heart attack six months ago. I didn’t want to leave the inn to my parents. I’m the assistant innkeeper, and when I’m not there, they have more to do.”
“Wow. I’m sorry to hear that. Is your dad okay? I remember when he had a heart attack our senior year.”
Hiding my surprise that he knew at all, let alone remembered four years later, became a challenge. “He’s fine. It was a minor heart attack, but he’s supposed to keep his stress level down while he recovers. And running Peyton’s Place at the end of ski season is not exactly low-key.”
“You’re still at home, then. And now, you run the inn?”
“Does that surprise you?”
Reid sipped his coffee, then shook his head. “No. You were always one of the most responsible people I ever knew.”
“Gee, thanks. Great to be remembered as responsible.”
“I meant it as a compliment. You always seemed to have it together, like you knew what you wanted from life, and you just… took it.”
The look on my face should have said it all. “We clearly didn’t know each other.”
“So, you were irresponsible and had no goals?”
Uninterested in exploring where this discussion could lead, I figured it was a good idea to end it. “I have to go,” I said as I stood. “Stef is waiting.”
Reid followed me. “Don’t go. I’m sorry. I was a jerk.”
He really wasn’t, but delving into high school with the one guy who’d made it both heaven and hell? That was not on my list of spring break plans. As I walked toward the door and my car, he followed. “Thanks for the coffee.”
“I didn’t buy your coffee,” he noted. “But I want to take you to dinner. Go out with me, Fin.”
“I can’t.”
“Kovac said you were free tonight.”
Muttering, I said, “Kovac should learn to shut it.”
“Then Kovac was wrong? Do you have a date already?”
“Yep,” I lied. A date with Taylor while I danced in the kitchen and made dinner, followed by binge reading, did not count for what Reid meant. But he didn’t know that.
The look on Reid’s face—it almost made me tell him the truth. He couldn’t be disappointed?
With a sad smile, he said, “I’m not giving up.”
“I have to go. Coffee.” I lifted Stef’s cup. “You don’t want to see him when his coffee is cold.” Another lie. Stef waited for his coffee to be cool, then he guzzled it. Dunk’s coffee was always so damn hot that it usually took him an hour to drink it. He wasn’t waiting for me.
Before he could delay me further, I slipped into the car and started it. I shouldn’t have been surprised at the knock on my window. “Can I have your number?” Reid asked.
My heart wanted so badly to give it to him, but my head prevailed. We’d taken math classes together for years, so I knew he was up for a challenge. “It’s a cell exchange that’s one digit off the inn’s, but in reverse. Goodbye, Reid.”
“Fin!” he declared as the rental car’s window scrolled up. “That’s not fair.”
“You’re smart, Watson. You’ll figure it out. Eventually.” I smiled as I buckled up and backed away.
Later in the day, we returned to the beach to people watch. Stef insisted that I owed him, and I felt guilty that I’d bolted earlier without helping him bring stuff to the house.
At one point, his magazine flew off the cooler in a stiff breeze and landed a few feet away. Stef ran to grab it, and as he stood, shaking the sand from the pages, a soccer ball flew in his direction. Instinct had me leaping from my seat and diving toward wh
ere it should land—around his skull height—with my hands outstretched like the goalie I’d long been. Thankfully, I still played in the adult league at home.
“Jesus,” Stef shouted as I knocked him on his ass and caught the ball.
“Sorry,” I said. “I figured it was better than being beaned in the noggin.” We helped each other stand.
“Only slightly. Um, Fin.” Stef’s chin pointed behind me.
“What?” I turned, and there he was again. “Reid. How can we help you?”
“That’s my ball,” he replied, gesturing to the object in my hands. Behind him stood his doppelganger, but he had no brothers. “Sorry about that, Kovac. Ry switched to football in high school, and he’s forgotten how to kick a soccer ball without aiming for the goalposts.” He spoke as he took the ball and shoved it into the guy’s chest.
“Yeah, sorry. The soccer ball has a lot more surface area.”
Reid rolled his eyes. “Ryan Watson, this is Finley Powell and Stef Kovac. We went to high school together. I had classes with Fin all through school, and Kovac here was the star forward on the soccer team. Fin, Kovac, this is my cousin, Ryan. He’s here for his first spring break, too.”
Stef glowed with pride and a barely-tamped smile. “Great to meet you, Ryan.” He extended his hand.
Did I catch a blush from Ryan? “Nice to meet you, too.” He turned to me and offered his hand. “Were you a goalie?”
As I shook it, I said, “Since the first year I played soccer.”
“You’re good. You should play for a pro team.”
Now, it was my turn to flush. “Thanks,” I mumbled.
“She was all-state four years in a row,” Reid said. Ryan’s brow rose.
I couldn’t believe he knew. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“Shut up, you,” Stef interjected. “You know it was a big deal. She coaches the peewees. And she plays in the adult league at home. I tried to convince her to play for UVM, but she wouldn’t try out.”
“Will you shut up?” I said from the corner of my mouth.
“Why not?” Reid asked. Once again, he was standing there with his sexy arms crossed over his athletic chest. His arm muscles bulged, and I had to swallow hard.
“College athletics are demanding and not conducive to a full-time job.”