by Ella Miles
So I sit and wait, hiding my face beneath the shadows of the hood. If employees drive by the bench, they will just think I’m waiting for the bus. They won’t remember me. They never do. The few times I was caught were because I had been speeding after I stole the car or had friends who ratted me out. Neither is a mistake that I will repeat again.
I watch the last employee leave for the night, which leaves me exactly one hour until the janitor comes to clean. It’s not quite dark, but it’s dark enough to not draw too much attention to myself. I wait two more songs to ensure that no one is coming back because they forgot something inside, and then I get up, avoiding eye contact with the woman who just sat down on the bench next to me.
I walk slowly and carefully with my head down, making sure to avoid my face being caught on the security cameras that circle the outside of the dealership. I reach the door and then put on gloves before pulling out a lock pick. I enter the code I already gathered into the alarm system to prevent the alarm from going off and use the pick to unlock the door.
The door lock is loose and is easy to pick. It practically pops open on its own. I push the door, careful to keep my head down. Even though the alarm system is down, the cameras are still fully operational. So, I have to ensure that my head remains down to keep them from learning my identity. To stay out of jail.
I walk straight to the Lamborghini that is sitting in the middle of the showroom. The keys are, of course, not in it. I could spend minutes that I don’t have searching for the keys, or I could hot-wire it. I go for option two.
I hot-wire the car, and then I get ready for the part that really gets my heart racing. The part that I live for. I stomp on the gas, going full speed ahead. I slam through the glass and drive as fast as I can away from the dealership.
I stole the car even though I don’t need the money. Even though I don’t need the car. Just because I want the freedom to feel how I do right now. I just want to live.
* * *
Present—Sloane
Asher finishes his story. “That’s why I’m dressed the way I am. That’s why I cut my hair off. I’m never going to be just a surfer. I’m always going to be part thief, no matter that I don’t actually steal cars anymore. That is what the police think of me. I’m a thief.
“You knew that I was trying to steal you from Wes. But you don’t treat me like I’m the monster that I am. You act like I’m just a normal person. You need to know that this is who I am. I’m a thief. This is me.”
I nod, trying to take in what he said. “I know you are a thief. I’ve always known. Now, I just know how much of a thief you really are. But it doesn’t matter. We aren’t really married. Not in the way that counts. I’ve kept the story out of the news. I’ve just been telling everyone you were sick with the flu this week. No one knows where you really were.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t understand why it matters that you understand me. That you understand that I steal because I have to. I need that rush. I need that adrenaline boost that nothing else gives me. I need to feel alive. I need to fill a void that has never properly been filled. And stealing often does that for me.”
He lifts my chin up to make sure I’m looking at him. “But I need you to know that I need you more.” He hesitates a second and then says the thing that both of us have been avoiding for days, “I love you, Sloane.”
“I love you.”
Three simple words with so much meaning.
He said them. I never expected that he was capable of love. That he would be able to love. But here he is, saying it, and I believe every word that fell from his lips. I know that he loves me. I’ve felt it for far too long now. We have both been avoiding it. But, now that it has been said, I wish he would take it back.
Every woman wishes for this moment when her boyfriend tells her that he loves her. I should be happy, over the moon, to realize that this arrangement has turned into something real. It has turned into something more than even I could have imagined.
But I’m not happy. I’m devastated. Because I now know what comes next, and I can’t bear for it to happen.
“You don’t have to say it back. In fact, I don’t want you to say it until you feel it, too. I’ll wait. I’m patient. I just want you to know that I want more. More than this arrangement that we originally set up. Because time in jail has taught me one very important thing. That I don’t want to live without you. I know that I have to change. I have to be a better person, but being with you makes me that way. Being with you makes me want to believe that love can not only exist, but also last. I never thought that before.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Asher continues, “When my father died, I was a mess. I hated that I loved him because the pain of losing him was too much to bear.”
“How did he die?”
“He was shot.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say, wanting to know more because it’s clear that he has more to say on the subject.
But he doesn’t.
“I love you. Our pasts no longer matter. What matters is, if we have a real future together or not. What matters is, if you love me, too. Or if you could ever love me. If you could ever forgive me for what I’ve done.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he beats me to it. “They are really taking forever with our milkshakes, huh? I should flag our waiter down and—”
“Will you shut up?” I say, laughing nervously.
Asher finally stops talking.
“I love you, Asher. I’ve felt it since the night of your birthday. I just pushed down the feeling because I thought we couldn’t be together. We couldn’t love each other. That wasn’t the arrangement. The arrangement was to help each other. Nothing more. But I do love you.”
Asher grins, and it is the brightest grin I’ve seen on him since I picked him up from jail.
“You love me?”
I smile because his grin is infectious. Even if I know that this is the start of our end, I still enjoy this moment with him. We love each other. No matter what happens after, this is a happy moment.
“I love you.”
Asher reaches across the booth and kisses me on the lips.
“Here are your milkshakes and burgers.”
“Can we get them to go?” we say at the same time.
We grin again.
“I’ll be right back,” the waiter says.
I dig out some cash and throw it on the table to cover our meals that aren’t going to be eaten until later. We stand up and grab the to-go boxes, and then we practically run to my car. We jump in, and I step on the gas as soon as I can and peel out of the parking lot.
Tonight might be our last night together before everything changes, and I plan on making every minute count.
I speed back toward our home. I push that thought right out of my head. It’s not our home. It’s his home. It will never be ours.
Asher starts kissing my neck as I drive. With every kiss, I can feel it all over my body. Every nerve in my body is on fire, begging to be touched and kissed.
“You’d better stop that, or we aren’t going to make it back to your place. And, last time we did it in a car, it didn’t turn out so well in the end,” I joke.
Asher stops kissing my neck for a second and has a solemn look on his face.
“I’m sorry. Too soon?”
He shakes his head and then kisses me again on the neck to show that it isn’t too soon. “Why aren’t we going back to your place?”
I swallow, trying to calm my breathing that is much too fast. “Because I fell in love with your place while you were gone.”
A slow grin returns to his face as he sits back, staring at me. “You’ve been staying at my place while I was gone?”
I nod.
“I think I just fell even more in love with you, if that’s possible.”
I open my mouth to speak, but he kisses my neck again, and a moan comes out instead. All of my thoughts disappear. I try to focus on driving back to his place, but my attention
is definitely on his soft lips that caress every inch of my neck.
I don’t know how I make it back to his place, but somehow, I do. I jump out of the car, already knowing the perfect place that I want him to fuck me. I start running, and he chases me. He likes the thrill of the chase; I know that much.
And, now that he has me, now that he doesn’t have to chase me anymore, will I be enough?
But I don’t have to worry about that. Right now, I run until I find a secluded spot where the ocean tide is high.
Asher catches up to me and grabs me from behind, wrapping his arms around me. He kisses me again and again. He stops with his arms around me, and we look out at the sun over the ocean.
“Come inside. I want you in my bed.”
I shake my head. “No. The beach is our place. I want you here.”
He chuckles. “I’m not fucking you against the sand again.”
“I’m not asking you to.” I look down at the ocean in front of us.
I don’t wait for him to give me all the reasons that the ocean is just as bad or worse of a place to fuck than the sand. I’m sure it is, but I’ve never fucked in the ocean before. And, even if it isn’t perfect, it is what we both need.
Because, as much as he now looks like a thief, I need him to look like Asher again. The man I fell in love with, who has a heart. Who cares about other people, about me. Who loves me.
I grab his hand and lead him into the ocean until we are both waist-deep and covered with water.
“I need Asher tonight. The man I fell in love with, not the thief,” I say.
“I can be whatever you want, Sloane. I wanted you to be mine, but instead, I’m yours.”
I smile weakly and then stare at the sweatshirt that is covering his chest and body. Clothes that make him look so much like a thief instead of the man I fell in love with. I grab hold of the zipper and slowly lower it. His hard chest and abs come into view. I remove the sweatshirt and then hand it to Asher, who curiously looks at me.
“Throw it out into the ocean,” I say.
He frowns. “You know this is littering.”
I sigh. “Just do it. You need to let your past go.”
He takes the sweatshirt and wads it up in a ball. Then, he throws it as hard as he can out into the ocean. We both stand for a moment, looking at it as it disappears beneath a wave.
When we look at each other, I jump into Asher’s strong arms, and he carries me out further into the ocean. I grab on to his short hair that I know will eventually grow back into the long waves, and I wrap my legs around his waist. He rubs his hands up my thighs under the light sundress I’m wearing until he is grabbing my ass.
He kisses me, showing me how much he is mine. He pulls my lip into his mouth while I move my hand up and down his neck, grabbing hard, needing him desperately. He stops walking when we are both about chest-deep in the water.
He pulls our lips apart, just far enough that he can look me in the eye. I think he is going to say something serious about why he loves me or wants me.
“I don’t have a condom,” he says.
I laugh but realize that I don’t have a condom either. I think he expects me to pull one out of my bra again or something.
“I don’t have one either.” I frown.
Asher takes a deep breath as we both realize that we are going to have to wait—at least until we can find one inside or go grab one at the store.
“I’m on the pill,” I say out of nowhere. I don’t know why I said it. Like the pill is magically going to fix our predicament.
“I’m clean. Although I don’t expect you to trust me.”
“I’m clean, too. And I do trust you.”
We each take a deep breath in and out and then decide to trust each other even though I have no reason to trust him, and he doesn’t know me well enough to trust me. Even though he thinks he does.
He thinks I’m perfect, incapable of doing anything wrong. He’s wrong. I’m more than capable of ripping out his heart. But he trusts me. And, at least tonight, I don’t plan on betraying that trust.
We kiss again, slower this time, as the waves crash around us. I reach for his pants, pushing them down so that I can feel his cock against my stomach. He lifts me up and gives me one last chance to back down before guiding me onto his cock.
I float in the water as Asher guides me up and down, our lips locked and my hands grasping on to his shoulders.
Maybe other people have had bad experiences of fucking in the water. But this is different than anything I’ve ever experienced. The ocean is the perfect place for us. We both understand it; we get it. The waves crash in, moving Asher in and out of me. I ride him over and over as the waves and Asher move me.
I feel freer than I have felt in a long time, fucking like this. But, when I look into Asher’s eyes, I realize why this feels so much different than any other experience I have ever felt before. Because, this time, we aren’t fucking.
“I love you,” Asher whispers against my lips.
I can barely catch my breath, but somehow, I manage to say back to him, “I love you, too.”
This time is different. It’s making love, not fucking.
And, if I could take this moment with me forever, I would. Just live right here on the beach in Asher’s arms and never return to the real world. The problem is, when the sun sets and this moment is gone, everything will be different. Because I know what I have to do next, and it’s going to change everything.
She said, “I love you.”
That was music to my ears.
But I can’t help but think, What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’ve thought it every day for the last week.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I don’t fall in love with women. I’ve seen the heartache that comes when that happens. Someone always gets hurt.
But, with Sloane, everything is different. I’ve fallen in love with her. I want her to be mine forever. I just have to make it official.
I know she loves me. Even before she said the words, I knew it was what she felt. But something has been holding her back. Something has been preventing her from moving forward. From actually letting herself be in love with me.
She let herself just be in the moment for one night. That one night when she said she loved me. But, the rest of the week, she has kept her distance. She’s been busy at work. I don’t know why though.
Is she upset she found out that I’m a thief, a criminal who has been in and out of jail too many times to count?
Is she upset that she fell in love with me?
Is she not convinced that I’m in love with her?
Does she think our lives are too different for us to be together?
Whatever the reason, I’m going to fix it tonight.
I haven’t told her why I started stealing yet. She probably thinks I was just a crazy, wild child who liked hurting people. And, while that is part of the excitement for me, it’s not the whole story. Not even close. I have to explain everything to her.
Sloane is working late again tonight, which gives me plenty of time to set everything up. I sling the bag filled with roses and flowers over my shoulder. I want tonight to be perfect for her. I’ll start with decorating her bedroom. I figure we will stay at her place tonight since it’s much nicer than mine. Tomorrow, I hope we can start searching for a new place together. Or maybe we will always split time between my place and hers.
I don’t give a damn where we live. I just want her.
I have more decorations in the truck she bought me. I’m going to use them to decorate the beach later. I know it’s cheesy to propose on the beach, but it’s our place. Sloane won’t care that it is cheesy. She will care that I put effort in. She will care that I love her. That’s the only thing that is important.
But, still, I have no idea if she will say yes. I think most men who propose already know what the answer is going to be when they ask the question. They have already talked to their girlfriends about it
. They might have even picked out a ring together, and then they go through the motions of proposing.
Sloane has no idea I’m about to propose. No man would propose so soon. But no man would have gotten himself in this predicament anyway. Fake married to a woman after he stole her from her fiancé, only to later fall in love with said woman. It’s a crazy story that is only found in romance books but not in real life.
So, when I propose to Sloane, it has to be big. I’m going all out with decorations, music, champagne—the whole bit. I’m being the most romantic I can be.
But, first, I’m going to tell her everything. I don’t want her to say yes without knowing fucking everything.
I walk over to the elevator where Archie, the elevator operator and security guard, greets me.
“Hello, Mr. Calder. How are you doing today? Here to see Ms. Hart?”
“I’m doing very well. I have a nice surprise tonight planned for Sloane. So, don’t ruin it for me.”
“I’m very happy to hear it. Ms. Hart has seemed very preoccupied and stressed lately. Hopefully, you’ll be able to cheer her up.”
I frown and nod as I step into the elevator. Even Archie has noticed that Sloane is unhappy. Maybe I missed something else that has been going on. Maybe I should wait a little longer to propose.
I feel the box that the ring is in burning a hole in my suit pocket. I can’t wait to propose.
For one, as soon as Sloane sees me in this suit, she is going to know something is up. I’m wearing a suit, so she will know that I have changed. That I’m not just a thief or a surfer. I’m a man desperately in love with her, who will do anything for her. Including buying and wearing a useless suit.
The elevator doors open, and I step out and walk over to her door. I dig in my pocket and realize I forgot the keys to her place. I never lock my place, so I usually leave my keys in the truck. I know, if someone really wants to steal it, it won’t matter if the keys are in it or not. I hate using my skills to break in her door today, but I’m not going all the way back to my place to get the keys to her place. I’m on a tight schedule because, at anytime, Sloane could call me and tell me that she’s leaving work and ready to go out to dinner. That’s all I’ve told her. That I’m taking her out for dinner. It is a Friday night after all.