“You have a good point,” I tell him, gently pulling away to insert some more space between us.
“I get the feeling you aren’t feeling this,” he says. Sterling pulls his arm from my shoulders and relaxes in his stool.
“I just know I’m going back home at the end of the summer and—” honesty won’t get me anywhere right now. Beyond the cocky behavior he has exhibited several times tonight alone, he’s just too good-looking. That means trouble if I pursue a relationship with him.
“Don’t you ever just live in the moment?”
“Sure I do,” I snap back, but it’s a total lie. I don’t live in any moments. I’m a planner.
“So, how about this, you kiss me, and if you feel nothing, I’ll leave you alone, and we can see each other when we see each other. If you like it, though, we’ll take it one day at a time. What do you think?”
I think my lips are speaking louder than my heart and it’s scaring me. If I open my mouth, I might answer irresponsibly.
While considering his offer, Jade’s hand is in the center of my back, pushing me. I glance over my shoulder, finding her still lip-locked with Cleary. Nice, Jade.
Sterling stands up from his stool and offers me his hand. “Come for a walk.” Again, Jade’s hand pushes me. God, okay, I can take a hint.
“Where are we going?” I ask him.
He takes the empty wine glass from my hand and places it down on my stool, just as he did with his. Without offering a response, he guides me around the restaurant toward the back, where we walk down a quiet path. “Have I come across too strong?” His question surprises me. It sounds sincere, but unusual after the way he has acted since I met him. Obviously, he’s come on strong. He shouldn’t need me to clarify that.
“A little,” I tell him.
His hand tightens around mine. “Sorry for that. I guess I’m sort of like a bull in a China shop when it comes to women sometimes.” Is he attempting to say I make him nervous?
“You should just be yourself,” I tell him.
“Well, this is me, right now.” The person he’s claiming to be is so different than the other person he’s been portraying.
“Why act differently?”
“You make me nervous,” he says. “Now that I’ve had a glass of wine, I feel like I can be honest, I guess.” He laughs at his words, but I don’t.
This is me, now and all the time, so there’s no reason to be nervous around me. I’m not sure I understand where he’s coming from.
The path we’re walking on opens into an area of small pebbles and leads up to a short cliff overlooking the moonlit ocean at high-tide. The beach looks the way it did the first night I arrived here.
“Tell me something about yourself,” I say. I know he surfs and teaches lifeguarding classes, but I need more before I make an accurate decision about him.
“Hmm,” he says, leaning forward on the railing that separates us from the edge of the cliff. “I have two more younger brothers, but they’re at home with my parents. I own a design business that I manage between the hours of surfing and teaching classes.”
“What do you design?”
“Decals and logos for surfboards mostly, but I do some commercial stuff too.”
“So you’re an artist.” I guess I feel the need to define his career.
“I don’t call myself an artist, but kind of, I guess.”
“So, you’re a humble artist,” and that earns you a couple of points in my book. “I’d love to see some of your designs sometime. “I just got my degree in journalism, and I’m big into the arts—the visual kind and the type made from words.”
“That’s pretty sweet. So, what kind of job will you eventually be looking for?”
The job Dad thinks I have. . . “Eventually, I want to write self-help books, but I’ll probably start with an internship at a newspaper or magazine if I can. I want to get some editing experience under my belt, which is what my poor dad thinks I’m doing for the summer because I’m a complete jerk.”
He glances over at me with surprise in his eyes. “Wow, you lied to your dad, and you want to write self-help?” There’s a teasing tone to his question, but it hits home since it’s eating away at me.
“Yeah, I feel kind of shitty about it, but I just wanted one more summer to avoid life responsibilities. I need to get my head straight, I guess.”
Sterling shifts his body, leaning his hip against the railing now. “Funny, since you’ve been acting so responsible, being worried about keeping your heart, or my heart—both of our hearts—safe, for whatever happens months from now.” I can’t argue. He’s right. I promised myself one last summer of letting loose and being free.
“You’re right,” I tell him.
I think he’s taking my agreement in many forms as his warm hand slithers around my back, slowly pulling me into him. My heart aches as his knuckles brush softly against my cheek. “One chance?” he asks.
As if instinctually, I bite down on my bottom lip, glancing up into his sparkling eyes. I try to agree verbally, but only air escapes my lungs. I gather it’s enough of an answer for him as he leans down and touches the tip of his nose to mine. The wine on his breath is sweet, and part of my tongue is craving the taste. No responsibilities. No heartache. Breaking all rules, I close my eyes, allowing his nose to sweep against the side of mine, ever so slowly making the seconds between our last words and his lips touching mine feel like an eternity.
* * *
Sterling’s mouth is soft against mine, his lips loose as he feathers his touch against the nerve endings of my lips. The sensation of his hand slipping through the ends of my hair before firmly clutching the back of my head brings warmth to the kiss, as his lips turn more onerous against mine. His free hand rests on the small of my back, and the simple touch of his fingertips burns through the thin material of my dress, making me silently plead for this kiss to last longer.
From the second he touches his lips to mine, I lose track of time. I have no idea how many seconds or minutes have passed, but it doesn’t seem like enough time when he pulls away, simultaneously wrapping a loose strand of my hair behind my ear.
“Wow,” he says, scratching at his chin. “Here I thought I’d be sweeping you off your feet, and somehow, I think you might have stolen all that clout I had built up in my head. You’re something else.” Why am I feeling the same about him? Freaking wine.
There’s a kiss that leads to more, and there’s a kiss that makes you say “wow.” More leads to something else and “wow” leads to a memory.
The crunching of small rocks and broken shells is the only sound I hear as we walk back to the fire pit. Jade will know by the look in my eyes. There is no hiding truths from her, despite the massive truth she managed to hide from me for an entire month.
When we return, something inside of me warms as I watch the smile on Jade’s face, watching her laugh at whatever Cleary has said to her. It’s not that Jade hasn’t been happy these past few days, but there has been a loss stirring within her, something I seem to have been unable to help with.
I glance down at my watch, noticing it’s already eleven. I told Samantha I would be back by midnight, so I don’t wake up the whole house.
“I need to get going,” I tell them.
“You have a curfew?” Sterling teases.
“I’m staying with the family I’m working for, and I don’t want to wake everyone up.”
“The family . . . and Liam, right?” I feel the need to clear my throat before answering his question because I have an idea where his thoughts are likely headed.
“Well, yes,” I answer, questioningly.
“Watch yourself with that one, eh?”
“Liam?” Why am I asking? I know who he means and why he’s saying it. I knew I needed to watch my back within thirty seconds of meeting Liam. However, I do find it interesting that they have both warned me against each other. Part of me would like to tell him Liam said the same about him, but I need to leave, and I
have a suspicion it might complicate things and cause problems. There is no sense in looking for ways to end the evening on a bad note.
Jade and Cleary ignore the conversation but finish the last of the liquid in their glasses. Jade is all glossy eyed, and if I weren’t here, I know what would happen tonight.
I squeeze between the fire pit and the bar stools, grabbing for Jade’s hand. “I really need to get going,” I tell her.
With clumsy movements, she slips off the stool and drags her feet along the sandy pebbles. “I don’t want to leave yet,” she whines.
“I need to get back,” I tell her again.
“But I like Cleary,” she continues.
“And we need them to drive us home, so you have the whole ride ahead of you with him.”
“You’re no fun,” she mutters like a child. “He’s a bad kisser, huh?” I’m thankful she didn’t just say that in front of Sterling. That’s the sort of thing she’d do when she’s been drinking.
“How did you know he kissed me?” I knew she’d think something was up, but that was a little too fast, even for Jade.
“Your lipstick is smudged.” With a look of excitement in her eyes, she reaches over and runs her thumb under my lip. “There you go.” Now I can’t just stew over this myself tonight; I’ll also be getting drilled by Jade . . . well, unless Jade is too busy getting drilled by Cleary. Maybe that would be best for my selfish reasons.
We pile into the Jeep, back to our original seats since we’re now officially coupled off. By the time Sterling revs the engine, I hear kissing noises coming from the backseat. The sound of it crawls up my spine like a furry spider. I don’t know what it is about that sound that makes me crazy, but it honestly sounds like a dog licking its nether region.
While I’m trying to block out the growing volume of the makeout session going on behind me, Sterling’s hand falls gently onto my thigh—my bare thigh. The sensation of warmth from his skin makes me clench everything as tightly as I can, and I think he notices, as he glances over at me. The street lights glow within his eyes, and the sweetness he’s done his best to maintain throughout the night appears a little darker this time like there is more going through his head than just a kiss, not that the thought isn’t mildly dancing through my head too.
“Where in town are you staying?” I ask, realizing we never discussed it.
“The same complex as Jade. I’m on the other side, though. There aren’t many affordable rental options around here.” I know what he means, which is why I’m grateful for Samantha offering me a room for the summer.
“Ah, so you enjoy a pull-out wall bed too, then?”
“I’m not sure how Jade managed to get so lucky with that feature in her apartment, but no, I have a two bedroom since I share with Cleary and our other buddy.”
I glance into the backseat, scared for what I might see, but curiosity got the best of my slightly intoxicated mind. Cleary has a hand up Jade’s skirt. Since she isn’t known for being quiet, if that goes much farther, we’ll all be enjoying the orchestra of her moaning.
“Looks like Cleary might be trying out that lucky fold-out bed in Jade’s apartment tonight.”
Sterling pulls his hand away from my goose-bump-covered leg and places it back on the steering wheel. “Well, if you want to tell those people you’re working for not to wait up for you, I’m happy to share my lucky bed that doesn’t fold out from the wall, with you.”
His question or inquiry forces more juicy clenching. It’s been so long, and my vibrator needs a break. Creating many seconds of awkward silence between his question and the answer he’s waiting for, I’m still in a debate with myself.
I’m stronger than the voice in my head and the pain between my thighs. I am. “I’m more of a third date type of girl,” I tell him, sounding breathless like I just worked real hard to come out with that answer.
“I can handle that,” Sterling says, sounding challenged. “How does tomorrow night sound for date number two?”
And there it is; the tightness in my chest—the feeling I get when anyone gets too close to affecting my heart.
After picking up the pieces when Mom left Dad, then all my dating debacles, of course, I can’t understand why people put themselves through the things they do for relationships—why risk that type of pain? Statistics suggest a couple is more likely to end up divorced than happy together until death, as the likely-to-be-broken marriage vows state. Chances of a marriage resulting in lifelong love and commitment are low, and I realize my experiences have made me cynical, but it’s a fact from true statistics.
It’s not that I’ve ruled out marriage, but the thought of remaining single forever has crossed my mind more times than it should at twenty-two. I do feel like I know the type that will surely cause the pain I try so hard to avoid, but the twist is that Mom was a good wife and mother for most of my childhood. In addition, she was always perfectly dressed, beautiful—a ten, as Dad always told her—but the older she got, the more motivation she had to better herself. My forty-year-old mother was at the gym six days a week, the hair salon once every two weeks, the nail salon weekly, and she had a collection of makeup that must have cost more than a year of car payments. She’s the female version of “He’s Just Too into Himself.”
Then there’s Dad—a two-hundred-fifty-pound teddy bear who lost all his hair by the time I was fourteen. His smile is brighter than the sun, and his personality is one-of-a-kind. The man can make the saddest person laugh, and he’d go to the ends of the earth for anyone who needs him. Dad is the definition of a good man. Mom couldn’t see that, or she stopped seeing it, I guess. I’m sure she thinks beauty is skin deep, and I was lucky to learn how untrue that is at a young age. Who wants a pretty face when everything inside is hideous?
I haven’t made up my mind about Sterling yet. So far, I know he’s pretty, charming, and a very good kisser, but I need to know more about him.
“You okay?” Sterling asks. I try to refocus, forcing my thoughts to the back of my head, and I notice we are parked out front of Jade’s apartment.
“Oh—yeah, sorry. I’m fine.”
“So, tomorrow night?”
“Can I call you when I see what the day’s schedule looks like?” I’m sure he can easily sense the excuse, but I don’t have an answer yet.
“Of course, but you might want my phone number.” His words are soft and a bit despondent. I probably shouldn’t have let that kiss happen. “If this doesn’t feel right to you, you can be honest with me. I’m a grown man; I can handle it, Julia.”
I pull at a small thread coming loose from the hem of my dress, silently piecing my words together, so they come out right because my thoughts aren’t making a whole ton of sense to me now. “It doesn’t feel wrong,” I begin. “I’m not sure what right is, to be honest, but I just got here, and I’m not sure I’m ready to fall into a routine outside of work yet, so I was kind of hoping to take things a bit slower.” I release the air from my lungs as if my mouth were the pinched opening to a balloon. I hope he understands, especially knowing that we’ll be seeing each other daily during Dylan’s lifeguard training.
“You’re doing right by yourself, and I can’t fault you for that when it’s all I’ve been trying to do for me. Take all of the time you need, but I hope it’s okay that I remain patient with a little hope because I truly like you.”
He’s breaking me down, and the little love devil in my head is about to push the wrong words out of my mouth. The way he’s looking at me, as if I were a delicate flower he’s too scared to touch, it’s making me melt. These hot guys and their goddamn eye magic.
“I just need a little time, but I’ll see you tomorrow morning at Dylan’s training, okay?”
Sterling’s hand sweeps against my cheek like he did earlier before he kissed me. Maybe he was quick to figure out the effect his touch has on me. In that case, he’s playing me like a fine-tuned instrument because I’m about to say yes to whatever he proposes, and if I don’t get out
of this jeep in a matter of seconds, I will end up in his bedroom tonight.
“I’ll be thinking about you and that bikini of yours tomorrow, doing my best to ignore your presence during training.”
My cheeks burn with a combination of embarrassment and excitement. “Sorry to make things hard for you . . .” Two seconds, that’s all it takes for me to realize the stupidity coming out of my mouth. Make things hard for you? Are you freaking kidding me?
Sterling shifts in his seat and tugs at his shorts a bit because I feel like I just made things more than a little hard for him. I wonder how big he is. I wonder if—
“Hey, eyes up here, sicko,” he says with a cocky-sounding chuckle.
What is wrong with me? I was just staring at his dick, wondering if it was going to pop out of his shorts magically. Though, judging by the satisfaction stretching across the coarse, grizzly fuzz lining his jaw, I believe I just made his night.
“Good night, Sterling.” I couldn’t sound any more sheepish if I tried. I pull my chair forward to let Jade out and Cleary out, but they’re not here anymore.
“They hopped out almost the second we pulled in. You were lost in that head of yours, probably daydreaming about something hard I’ll assume.”
Oh my—I can’t take anymore. I open the door, but Sterling’s arm wraps around my neck, and he pulls me in, planting his lips firmly on mine. His hand slowly falls from my shoulders, letting the tips of his fingers feather down the length of my arm as he pulls away. “Good night, Julia.” I can’t feel my mouth. I can’t feel my heart beating in my chest or air coming and going from my lungs. I step out of the Jeep feeling totally numb, and not so surprisingly; I tumble to the pavement.
I hear a seatbelt clink against the metal door, and Sterling flops over the front seats with his head poking out the door. “Are you okay?”
A snort louder than I intended follows an almost hysterical laugh from embarrassment. I’m fine, I think.
The Man Cave Collection: Manservant, Man Flu, Man Handler, and Man Buns Page 13