“So I don’t want to know details, because yuk, but if you didn’t have the s.e.x., what did you do?” She spells out the word in the same way we spelled out swear words as kids, as if we wouldn’t get in the same amount of trouble if our mother heard us.
I fill her in with our afternoon adventures and end with our late night on the beach to watch the stars come out over the water.
“But no sex?”
I begin to feel like Elena doesn’t grasp how great of a day I had. “It wasn’t like that, Elena. Life isn’t all sex.” I reach back for my suitcase and tuck the blanket in farther to make room for more clothes. I may need to leave a few shirts behind to get it home, but I can live with that.
She scoffs in my direction. “For men it’s always about sex.”
I don’t bother responding to her for more than a few reasons. I don’t want to think too much about yesterday, especially in a negative light. If I give Elena’s opinion too much space in my brain, she might start to make sense. Trey has been nothing but respectful regardless of his male genitals. Plus, it’s not like we were alone. Besides our time on the beach last night, there was always someone nearby. While there was some heavy petting, we’d already been busted once. Sand is also a problem out there, and I was not going to have sex on the beach.
Sure, it would’ve taken less than five words to talk me into spending the night in his room, but he never asked. Which is fine because, to be honest, I wasn’t in control of all my faculties last night and there is a miniscule chance I’d regret it now. Not the sex, but the fact it would make his exodus today a trillion times harder.
“He’s leaving today, Elena. It was a vacation fling and nothing more. It’s not like we’re soul mates, so give it a break.”
Each word from my mouth is a complete lie. I already feel too connected to a man I met a few days ago. I don’t need sex to muddy the waters more than they already are. It’s not normal to feel so enthralled with someone as quickly as I’ve become with Trey. Forget that my heart beats faster when he’s near. Or his minty breath as it tickles my ear when he whispers things to me. All of it will be dream fodder for the rest of my life. What has me worried is the way my soul perks up when I spot him. Can a person make you lighter? Happier? If my feelings were a color, they’d be bright yellow whenever Trey is beside me.
The fact my thoughts have taken this route is scary. I mean if feelings had color… what has gotten into me? I don’t think shit like that. No normal person considers their feelings to be yellow. Trey will go back to San Francisco and play his video games. I will return to New York and resume Thursday night cocktail evening with the girls and help the right and humorless in the city buy fancy toys. It’s as simple as that. Sweetest day is in a few months so I have a whole slew of flowers to order for wives.
“If it wasn’t special, why did you look like someone killed your cat earlier?” she questions from between our beds.
I roll my eyes in her direction, but her head is stuck under the bed looking for misplaced items and she doesn’t see. “I don’t have a cat.”
One day I’ll meet a cute guy, we’ll get married, have lots of babies (okay two) and move out to the suburbs where we’ll spend the rest of our days. My life is simple and doesn’t involve the West Coast and some video game executive.
“Can I throw this cup away?” Two of Elena’s fingers pinch the top of the neon green cat cup from my first night with Trey.
“No!” I try to jump across the bed to grab the cup she’s taken from the nightstand.
She leans back. “Yeah, sure you don’t have a cat.” She tosses the cup to me and I place it next to my clothes. It’s a thick plastic, but not one I’m willing to risk in my suitcase. I’ll have to carry it on the plane.
* * *
I leave Elena packing for our early departure tomorrow and make my way to the grand lobby with a heavy heart weighing down my steps. Why didn’t I ask him for a room number? I should have surprised him this morning with breakfast. I should have done something.
At the end of the wallpapered hallway, those large sculpted beams that circle the middle of the lobby become visible. Trey in dark wash jeans and a short sleeve green t-shirt leans against the pole closest to where I exit the suite sections. His hand clasps at a deep groove in the fishy sculpture, making him appear tense but still gorgeous.
My steps pick up, forgetful of why they’re here in the first place. His attention is to his phone. Then, as if he senses my presence in the area, his head rises to meet mine and his lips spread into a carefree grin.
“You came.” Trey doesn’t leave his spot on the column, but he pulls me closer to him when I get within his reach.
Like we’ve been doing this for years, I wrap my hands around his neck and fiddle with the wispy black hair at the base of his head. Our embrace feels natural. To an outsider we must look like more than people who met three days ago. It’s a weird bond we share.
“Of course I came. You weren’t worried, were you?”
My head falls to his shoulder in an attempt get as close as possible. His t-shirt is thin and I rub my head like a cat on the fabric as his muscles flex underneath. With scant minutes before he leaves, I don’t have time to worry about what he or anyone else will think of my behavior. The spicy scent from Trey’s cologne mixes with the breezy air off the ocean, and I wish I could bottle it. Make it into a candle and burn it to get me through the upcoming cold New York winter in a few months.
“Not worried. Hopeful. Why didn’t I make you sit in my room during the conference call? We could have laid on the bed and watched TV. At the least had breakfast together,” he apologizes and the thought of the two of us together on his bed makes me even more regretful that this trip has to come to an end.
His hands wrap tighter around me. He smooths them down my back and they come to rest on the top of my hips, until they move lower and he’s cupping an ass cheek. I guess Trey’s not worried about his behavior either.
I snuggle into his embrace. “I wish…”
“Don’t.” His grip tightens while his words silence mine.
I wish? I wish what? How does he know what I would have wished for? He doesn’t need to say the words for me to know Trey’s right. Nothing I wish for will change our situation. You don’t do long distance with someone you’ve known for three days. I want to lie to myself and say we’d exchange phone numbers to stay friends, but at the first mention of him dating my heart would break. Better to rip the bandage off today rather than slowly peel it back later.
We need to come to an end now. A quick semi-painless end without deluding ourselves there could be more. Yes, it will hurt, more than I expected, but it would be far worse to have misplaced hope.
“Lynden shuttle!” a voice carries from the main entrance announcing Trey’s ride to the airport.
He sighs and his body slumps. We’re both resigned. “That’s you.” I try to at least play the part of strong and tap my hand on an open section of his chest and step back. I don’t make it far when his arms tighten around me again and we share the quiet embrace.
“Last call Lynden shuttle!” The unseen reaper to our short relationship slashes his scythe again.
“I guess this is it.” Trey releases me and steps away from the column. He pauses, face tight, his forehead wrinkled in thought. His hand reaches to his face where he runs his thumb against the dark stubble. “Make sure and stay warm this winter.”
Our gaze lingers for a moment and then Trey takes a deep breath, turns, and heads toward the front entrance without a backward glance. I’m left stunned in my place by our column. “Stay warm this winter?” That’s what I get as my monumental good-bye?
Every piece of excitement and thrill Trey gave me over the last two days is sucked away as I watch him walk around the corner and out of sight. Teenagers have less emotionally fueled romances than this. Hell, my chest didn’t hurt this much when during my junior year of high school Tommy Jones — who I thought was my soul mate — cheat
ed on me after I gave him my virginity.
The worst part… we didn’t even get a good-bye kiss.
About the Author
Megan Matthews lives in Michigan with her husband and their young son. After almost a decade in corporate America working in Human Resources she decided to follow her dream and allow the voices to take over through her stories. When she isn’t writing Megan’s playing Minecraft with her son or trying to catch up on all the sleep she’s missed the last few years. You can stalk her online.
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A note from the author
Thank you for reading the first six chapters of Lag – On the Island. You can stop here and read this as a complete story, but if you’d like to find out what happened between Simone and Trey or the rest of the standalone books in The Boys of RDA series you can find more information and buy links at www.authormeganmatthews.com
If you’d like to stay up to date on information happening in the RDA world or other new releases you can find my author page on Facebook or join my mailing list.
Fans can also join my Facebook reader group for the inside track on what’s happening behind the scenes, special giveaways, and advanced reader copies of new books.
Thank you again for reading Lag, I hope you enjoyed this peek into the start of Simone and Trey’s story.
Also by Megan Matthews
Rush (The Boys of RDA Book 1)
Lag (The Boys of RDA Book 2)
Spaghetti and Roses
A Moving the Chains Novella
Kata Čuić
Edited by
Mickey Reed
One
Spaghetti is the Best
Sophomore year, Rob
Alex nudges me with his elbow and whistles under his breath. “Check out Miss P today. Lookin’ mighty fine…”
I follow the path of his gaze.
There she is. The girl of my dreams.
Evie Papageorgiou.
Sure enough, she’s swaying her hips as she walks towards us in a way that makes my dick twitch. This is…highly unusual. For her. Not for me.
“Fuck. If I were single, even I’d hit that,” Alex drools.
Across from us, Mike chokes on his food. “Jesus, Alex. Do you have a death wish? One of these days, you’re gonna push him too far and he’s just gonna snap and clock your ass.”
The usual lunchtime bickering between my two best friends fades out along with all the other white noise in the cafeteria. I swear it’s almost as if she’s looking right. At. Me.
My pulse kicks up as my palms sweat and my pants shrink about ten sizes. With every step closer, her flame steals a little more oxygen from the room until I’m sure I’m going to pass out from lack of air. Since when do my dreams turn into real life? I’m not that lucky.
She looks totally different today. I noticed first thing this morning. All of her tan skin on display has made it hard to concentrate in class ever since. Her clean-cut, classy look has been replaced by a short, flouncy skirt that shows off her killer runner’s legs, these shoes that aren’t heels but still make her look a few inches taller, and a tight shirt that hugs her tits. It’s so low cut that she’s even giving everyone a peek of cleavage. Her normally curly, dark hair is straight, and she’s wearing makeup for a change, which makes her blue eyes pop even brighter.
Damn, she’s a walking wet dream.
The way she’s batting her eyelashes, walking like she’s on a private runway built only for me, and making direct eye contact has my dick begging for attention. From her. Only her.
I always come back to her.
Evie Papageorgiou owns me and she doesn’t even know it.
I appreciate the hot look she’s sporting today, but somehow, it feels off. She’s never acted the way all the other annoying girls at school do. That’s what’s so awesome about her. She doesn’t care if she fits in. She just does her own thing and fucking owns it. I wish I had half the confidence she does. It’s like she’s the center of the universe and everyone else just revolves around her. The best part? She doesn’t even notice. She never tries to get attention or cares what other people think. Hell, she’s never once noticed me. Pretty sure I’m not even a blip on her radar.
I avert my eyes and swallow as an unwelcome thought creeps into my brain.
Someone’s obviously on her radar now.
Someone who isn’t me.
“Dude.” Alex nudges me again. “Go ask her if she wants to sit with us.”
“What? Why would I do that?”
Mike rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “She doesn’t dress up very much. The least you could do is notice and make her feel good about it, asshole.”
Oh, I notice. It’s the making-her-feel-good-about-it part I’m fuzzy on.
Alex laughs. “She’s been trying to get your attention all day, chickenshit.”
“Nuh-uh. She didn’t dress up for me,” I mumble. But I can’t resist sneaking another peek at her. If my eyeballs catch fire from her hotness, I’ll happily go blind.
Yep. She’s still smokin’. And still heading this way.
I glance over my shoulder at the table behind us, trying to figure out which lucky idiot she’s working it so hard for. I don’t need to know who he is to know that the rat bastard doesn’t deserve her. If she thinks she needs to transform herself into porn material just to get some guy’s attention, then he’s clearly the wrong guy for her. Her casual look suits me just fine. Hell, on the rare occasions she wears her glasses, she turns me on even more. I never knew I was into the whole naughty-librarian fantasy until the first time I saw those thick, black frames perched on her cute little nose. This girl is the only star in my spank bank and has been since the day I first laid eyes on her. I wouldn’t change a thing. Well, except maybe her smart mouth.
Talking.
To me.
Wrapped around my dick would be awesome.
Ooh, sucking my dick in between insults. Why does that turn me on so much? God, I love when she puts people in their place in class. Her sharp mind gets me hotter than an oven. There is clearly something wrong with me.
My dirty thoughts derail with the sound of a tray clattering to the floor nearby.
The whole cafeteria quiets until a pin drop could be heard as all eyes turn towards the disaster.
In the walkway just beside our lunch table, pieces of pasta decorate the floor like streamers and the object of my fantasies is sprawled out on her stomach, her skirt just barely covering her ass.
Time comes to a halt as I hold my breath and wait to see if anyone will rush to her rescue.
Nope.
I watch Mike, waiting on him to do something. He’s one of her oldest friends, after all.
Nope.
He just stares back at me.
The entire sophomore class seems frozen, the very air a sudden blanket over the whole cafeteria. As seconds stretch into eternity, not even any of her friends come to her aid.
What the fuck is wrong with people?
Drawing a deep breath in, I get up from my seat on shaky legs. The idea of interacting with Evie outside of our shared classes terrifies me, but I can’t just leave her there for everyone to gawk at. I’d like that ass to stay hidden, especially from the eyes of the douchebags who can’t be bothered to help her. What if she smacked her pretty head on the floor? It’s like no one even cares to see if she’s hurt, let alone to help her clean up.
This is exactly why not a single guy in here deserves her. Hell, her friends aren’t real high on my awesome-people list right now, either.
“Hey.” I crouch beside her, fighting the urge to tug her skirt down. If my fingers make accidental contact with her skin, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop touching her. “Are you…okay? Did you, um, hit your head?”
She slowly raises her face from the floor to look at me. Her blue eyes swim with tears, and she has
a nice red mark on her forehead. She blinks at me a few times and pulls her lips between her teeth, clearly trying not to cry.
“Can I, uh… Can I help you…somehow?” God, I’m such an idiot.
I have no fucking clue what to do here. If she cries, I’ll really lose my shit. This girl should never be allowed to cry. It’s a crime against all mankind for there to be anything but a smile on her gorgeous face.
She sucks in a deep breath and peels herself away from the floor to sit back on her knees, tucking her skirt underneath her. “No, thanks. I’m… I’ll be okay.”
“You’re wearing your lunch on your nice shirt. Can I maybe…buy you a new one?”
Her deep-blue eyes cut to me as her chest heaves. She violently shakes her head.
Fuck. Did she just bust me checking her tits out? “Uh…I meant lunch. Can I buy you another lunch? Not another shirt. Because…I don’t know what size you wear and, uh, I’d probably get it wrong. But, if you tell me, I could buy you a new shirt too. If that’s what you need. I mean…if you want. Um…”
Shit, I suck. Why do I suck?
“I’m just going to go clean up in the bathroom, I think.” She sniffles, still trying not to break down in front of all of our classmates, who’ve gone on with their own lives. “Thanks though. I’m sorry I interrupted your meal.”
“Oh, no. That’s okay. I don’t really care about lunch. I wasn’t eating anyway. The food here sucks, right? Except the spaghetti though. Spaghetti is the best.”
She arches an eyebrow at me, probably confused at the bullshit spewing out of my mouth. Hell, I’m confused by the bullshit spewing out of my mouth. Every time I’m anywhere near this girl, it’s like my brain takes a hike. All I can see, smell, hear is her.
Between Hearts: A Romance Anthology Page 24