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Soaked (The Water's Edge #2)

Page 13

by Stacy Kestwick


  “What?” I whispered.

  Gripping my waist, he nudged me until I gave in, slowly spinning me around until my spine was against the door and his hips were snug against mine, his arousal hard against my stomach.

  “I need you to look at me when I tell you this—so you know I mean it. So you know this isn’t some game to me.”

  I lifted my eyes, peering at him from under my lashes.

  He chuckled, tipping my chin up further. “Stubborn.”

  A helpless grin came and went, because it was obvious from the affection in his tone, he meant it as a compliment.

  When we were face-to-face, inches apart, his expression turned solemn, but his eyes stayed soft. “I love you. And I’m never letting you out of my sight again without telling you. Without you knowing how I feel.”

  I swallowed down similar words clawing at my throat—needing for once to play it safe.

  “You can leave, I won’t stop you. Just know you’re taking a piece of me with you.” He leaned closer, tugging me against his chest. “You’re running because you’re scared. Just like you are with the damned ocean. I know trusting what you can’t see isn’t something you do easily.” His lips were so close, the words fell against my mouth. “You’re worth waiting for. You’re worth everything.”

  He erased the last millimeter separating us, but I turned my head, my heart beating so hard he had to feel it against his own. He kissed the corner of my mouth, lingering—the moment so achingly exquisite I wanted to cry.

  My fingers curled into his chest and held him against me, neither of us moving. It was too much and not enough, and I was torn between needing to escape and never wanting to let go.

  With a cry, I jerked free and slipped out the door, not allowing myself to look back. Rue should be back with my purse and room key by now.

  I needed time.

  To break down.

  To breathe.

  To think.

  To quiet my mind and feel my heart.

  I couldn’t find my way back to him until I sorted through the broken pieces inside me and reassembled myself. Separated the anger and the hurt from the embarrassment and the pain. Gave hope and truth a chance to repair the foundation and see if it was still strong enough for love to stand on, or if the damage was already irreversible.

  CONDENSATION COVERED The mirror and the bathroom was thick with steam by the time I finally emerged from the shower, my tears washed down the drain along with my cheap watermelon shampoo. While my time in there hadn’t magically produced all the answers I sought, I felt cleansed clear down to my core.

  I’d forgiven myself.

  For loving with my whole heart, even when Asher couldn’t see that for the gift it was. For letting that same trust in him blind me to what was really happening. And for running away when I found out the truth.

  I stood a little straighter as I toweled off, realizing that this whole trip to Nashville was really about me—not him. It was about regaining my own self-respect by not allowing him to walk all over me, continue to use me for his own selfish gain. And I’d done that.

  Well, Rue had helped.

  And West had pounded the message home for good measure.

  But I’d done it.

  I’d closed the chapter of my life with Asher’s name in the heading and accomplished it with decisiveness and confidence.

  And, most importantly, on my own terms.

  But this was the kicker. The realization that knocked me on my ass.

  I could trust myself.

  I wasn’t broken beyond repair or unlovable or only destined for heartbreak.

  I’d made a choice, invested my all, and when it turned sour, I’d saved my own damn self.

  And I could do it again.

  The mistake would be in living half-heartedly. Running scared. Letting fear hold me back. Not experiencing the full range of emotion life was waiting to clobber me with next.

  My nerves hummed with excitement, and my mind jumped repeatedly to the room two doors down, where West waited in a room identical to this one.

  After pulling on the first clothes my hands touched from my suitcase, I twisted my hair into a messy bun, not wanting to waste valuable time trying to dry it with the crummy hair dryer attached to the bathroom wall.

  Adrenaline rushed through my veins, making my nerves sing, as I slipped on some rubber flip flops.

  West.

  I had to see him. Talk to him. Touch him and see if my pulse raced and my breath caught and my skin prickled. Let down my guard and see if he still sparked that part of my soul where it felt like I could never get enough and he was the only thing who could make it better.

  The addiction and the cure rolled into one potent package.

  I wanted to listen to the rumble of his words, run my hands over all that new scruff, and taste his sincerity.

  I wanted to explore new beginnings and rekindled passion.

  I wanted to believe that tomorrow would be better.

  After jotting down a quick note for Rue, who’d left to get some dinner to give me some space when she discovered me sobbing in the shower earlier, I slid the extra room key I’d gotten from the front desk downstairs into the back pocket of my jeans and hurried down the hall.

  Eager. Smiling. Ready.

  I knocked impatiently, somehow surprised he hadn’t read my mind and flung open the door when I stopped in front of it. I strained to hear his footsteps, but only silence greeted me.

  Wrinkling my brow, I reached down to jiggle the door handle, and that’s when I first noticed it.

  The paper airplane with my name scrawled across the wing wedged between the handle and the doorframe.

  I don’t know why, but this plane, its mere presence outside his room, waiting for me, seemed ominous.

  Cradling it in my hands, I sank against the locked door.

  My fingers traced the edges, hesitant to know what kind of message was delivered by hotel stationary and an empty room.

  I bit my lip as I unfolded it, smoothing the creases on my thigh.

  It was short—just four lines.

  Sadie—

  I couldn’t stand being so close and having you push me away again.

  I knew sleep wouldn’t find me—not without you in my arms.

  The open road and hours between us seemed the best way not to make a bigger fool of myself.

  Find me when you’re ready—you know where I’ll be.

  He’d signed it Yours. Always. Two separate promises, underlined with a harsh slash, the line so deep it dug into the paper, leaving indentations I could trace.

  He’d left.

  He’d left.

  He’d left.

  I closed my eyes against the painful constriction in my chest.

  I’d told him I needed time. And he’d given it to me. My fist crumpled his words.

  “I’m trying to show you . . . Hailey said actions speak louder than words . . .”

  He wasn’t the only one who would have trouble sleeping tonight.

  Pushing to my feet and numbly returning to my own empty room, I formulated a backup plan.

  Drinking my way through the mini-bar.

  THEO GRUNTED HIS disapproval. It had been two days and I was back on Reynolds Island, trying to lose myself in some semblance of normalcy. And even though I was sweating like a pig, he still wasn’t happy.

  “You slacked off while you were gone, didn’t you?” He pressed his palm against my back, pushing me lower into the plank position I was shaking to maintain. “Right there. Hold it. Thirty more seconds.”

  I called him every dirty word I could think of, including a few I made up, in that half a minute. He grinned the whole time.

  “It wouldn’t hurt so bad if you’d kept up with the workouts I sent you.”

  “I was busy.” I collapsed on the mat and glared up at him as I gasped for air like a fish out of water, sweaty tendrils of hair plastered to my face.

  He shook his head in annoyance. “Excuses, excuses
. Roll over. Russian twists, thirty on each side.”

  I groaned, my ab muscles protesting every movement as I turned on my back and forced my way through the reps.

  “Come on, faster, you’re better than this. Watch your form.”

  “What the hell, Theo? Is Chelsea the redhead gone? Are you not getting laid and taking it out on me?”

  He crossed his arms as he watched me struggle through his evil torture of my midsection. “She left two weeks ago. And, yes, I’ve hit a bit of a dry spell.”

  “Twenty-nine, thirty,” I muttered, falling back and crossing my forearms protectively over my stomach. I was dizzy from the exertion, and my heart pounded against my heaving ribs. “And I haven’t gotten any action either, but you don’t see me punishing you because of it.”

  He squatted next to me. “And we’re gonna talk about all of that over breakfast. The one you’re not getting until you finish your workout.”

  I lolled my head in his direction and squinted up at him. “You know I hate you right now, don’t you?”

  “Did I mention we’re having Krispy Kremes on the beach?”

  I closed my eyes and sighed, already tasting the warm sugar melting in my mouth. “Did I say hate? Hate’s a strong word. And I might have misspoken. Love—love might be what I meant to say.”

  He chuckled. “That’s better.” Reaching down, he hauled me to my feet and steered me by the shoulders to the dreaded treadmills. I stopped mulishly in front of them.

  “One mile, whatever speed you want. But the faster you go, the quicker we get to eat.” He raised one eyebrow and smiled, knowing he’d won this round.

  I grumbled under my breath as I climbed on and punched the buttons to start the machine. “You know it’s really not fair that you use my weakness for doughnuts against me like this.”

  “Life isn’t fair. Get moving.”

  “Slave driver.”

  “Your ass will thank me later.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with my ass,” I fired back, legs aching with every stride. The slow jog I attempted was all I could muster.

  “Because I work your tail off.”

  I huffed at him, annoyed that he’d gotten the last word in, but I didn’t have a good comeback. Theo really was an excellent trainer, the arrogant piece of shit.

  Twelve excruciating minutes later, I slowed the machine to a crawl for a five-minute cool down. The towel I used to wipe my face and neck was already damp from my sweat earlier and didn’t do much to dry me off. “I’m gonna need a shower first.”

  “Hell, yeah, you are. I’m not getting in a car with you smelling like that.”

  The smirk on his face disappeared when I threw the terrycloth towel at him and nailed him right in the face. “Nice, Sadie. Real mature.” He plucked the towel off him by the edge and held it away from him like it was contaminated as he carried it to the laundry basket in the corner to get rid of it. “Just for that, you’re paying for the coffees.”

  Coffee. I swallowed back a moan. The sweet, sweet taste of Starbucks and caffeine. And Krispy Kremes. This early in the morning, the HOT NOW sign would still be lit.

  Theo pointed across the gym to the locker rooms. “Go get your shower and I’ll run down the street to get the doughnuts. I’ll meet you next door at Starbucks.”

  I didn’t need to be told twice. After a quick fist bump, we headed our separate ways.

  The shower area was empty, so no one witnessed my contortionist moves as I struggled to undress. Was there anything in the world harder than removing a sweaty sports bra? Especially when the end of my ponytail got tangled up in it while I tried to yank it over my head.

  After washing off the stink and spraying some product in my hair that promised miraculously frizz-free beach waves, I threw on an orange oversized T-shirt I paid way too much for in Grand Cayman, some Nike gym shorts, and my trusty rubber flip flops.

  My stomach growled in greedy anticipation as I walked as fast as my sore thighs would carry me to the coffeehouse next door. No sign of Theo yet, but that was fine. He always ordered the same thing, so I knew what to get. A tall, black coffee. Plain. So boring.

  By the time I had my caramel latte with whipped cream, his coffee, and a bottle of water for each of us, Theo was pulling into a parking spot, the familiar green and white box visible on the passenger seat. I handed him the drinks and climbed in, settling the box on my lap before taking the holder with the coffees back. I started to lift the lid to steal a glazed one en route, but Theo reached over and smacked it closed again.

  “Nuh-uh. No doughnuts until you spill the details about what happened while you were gone. And what the hell is going on with you and West?”

  “Nosy.”

  He glanced over at me and I could see the concern etched across his boyish face. His hair was a bit longer, the dark curls giving him a sweet puppy dog look. “Don’t even try to play that card. Rue already told me she couldn’t get much out of you, but that you’ve cried more in the last two days than you did in the first week after Asshole . . . you know. Last Christmas. When you first came down here.”

  “So you and Rue are ganging up on me?”

  “Yup. She tried being nice cop. Time for me to pull out the big guns.” He let go of the steering wheel with one hand and flexed, showing off his admittedly impressive bicep.

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh no, not the big guns.”

  We both laughed as he dropped the cheesy pose.

  Biting my lip, I stared at the swaying palm trees lining the road as we headed toward the quiet section of beach we preferred for our sugar-laden breakfasts. While I didn’t like involving other people in my love life, talking it out with Theo might not be the worst idea ever. A guy’s perspective might help me see things more clearly.

  Or not.

  Guys were fucking weird, after all.

  But Theo was coming from a good place. He wasn’t fishing for gossip. I knew he genuinely cared about my happiness.

  I sighed. Plus, he was serious about withholding my beloved doughnuts if I didn’t talk to him.

  Damn doughnuts.

  I’d blame this beachside confessional on them.

  Theo let me stew in my own thoughts until we were comfortably settled on an old striped quilt halfway between the dunes and the foamy edge of the water, coffees in hand and the still-closed box of heaven nestled between us. I kicked my flip flops off and dug my toes into the cool sand, stalling.

  “You’re really gonna make me talk, aren’t you?”

  “Yup.”

  I grumbled. “Where do you want me to start?”

  He turned his head, his expression neutral. “Where do you need to start?”

  “You’re not really cutting me any slack here, are you?” I twisted my lip in annoyance as I tried to appeal to his soft spot for me.

  “Nope. You need to work through this shit, for your own peace of mind, if nothing else.” He met my gaze, raising his eyebrows. “And we both know you’re avoiding doing that.”

  I fought the urge to stick out my tongue at him like a child.

  “Fine.” Unable to look at him while I laid myself bare, I recapped the few days before I left for Grand Cayman. The photoshoot with West, Hailey, and Cody. Realizing my feelings for West had tipped from like to love. Aubrey appearing half-naked on West’s balcony and her pictures tucked in his nightstand. The week of shitty communication leading up to my trip to Charleston, where I watched my worst nightmare come true. West cradling that skank in his arms as he walked along the dock, completely oblivious to the way he was shattering my heart.

  I hit the highlights of our confrontation outside Anchor, glossing over some of the more naked details from the parking lot. Then I admitted to not being able to read the paper planes right away during my trip. Saving them for almost two weeks before I could bear to look.

  The photoshoot with Nick I omitted, choosing to avoid that memory as much as possible for now. Guilt niggled at me whenever it crossed my mind. Guilt that, I reminded my
self, I shouldn’t feel since I’d told West it was over before I left.

  When I haltingly brought up the videos Asshole had uploaded, Theo’s cheeks blazed with color and he stared fixedly at the water in the distance.

  “You saw them, didn’t you?”

  The noncommittal noise he made was answer enough. I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

  “Let’s just say, I didn’t need any further clarification about what he did.”

  Taking a deep breath, I snaked my hand out and popped open the box, snagging a warm glazed pastry and taking the biggest bite I could. Theo didn’t say anything as I chomped my way through the first treat, barely tasting it over the bitterness that rose in me whenever I thought of Asher.

  “Can I just say, on behalf of decent men everywhere, that what he did was beyond shitty. Utterly reprehensible. And I’m so fucking glad you escaped from that mess before he put a ring on your finger.”

  Theo wrapped an arm around my shoulder and squeezed me in an awkward side hug.

  Memories of dumping Asher’s beloved electronics in the tub and giving them a bubble bath flitted through my mind. One of my better moments, if I did say so myself.

  “Yeah,” I agreed. “Marrying him would’ve been a mistake of epic proportions.”

  “So, Rue told you about the . . .” Theo coughed and waved his hand between us. “ . . . the thing. And then what?”

  I sighed, picking up another doughnut and taking a small nibble as I continued my analysis. We covered my frantic departure, my moment of weakness where I called West in Miami, the showdown at my old loft in Nashville, and West’s unexpected arrival to finish the confrontation with Asshole with a bang.

  My words got slower as I recounted the events from the hotel. My epiphany after I bandaged West. The note I found when I’d sought him out.

  The fact that we hadn’t spoken since.

  “Why not?” Theo asked, wrinkling his nose as he tipped his head at me, the angle of the morning sun making him squint. He took a doughnut for himself and studied me as he joined me in our carbohydrate lovefest.

 

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