Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  But I did.

  I mean, I didn’t want a relationship or anything, but I wanted . . . something. The expression on Elizabeth’s face told me she’d already decided what that was.

  Yeah. Definitely fucking this up. . . .

  She went back to flipping through the pages, meticulous as she mapped out our study plan for the semester. She asked me several questions about my strengths, my schedule, when and where I preferred to have our study sessions.

  Even though she was so obviously worried about her grade, there was no doubt in my mind she was going to ace this class.

  “Where are you from, Elizabeth?” The words were abrupt, and I shifted in my seat, leaning farther across the small table with my elbows digging into the wood, edging her direction.

  Honey kissed every inch of her—her hair, her eyes, her skin—and I knew she couldn’t be from around here.

  “Uh . . . San Diego,” she said almost absently, absorbed in the words she wrote, before she surprised me by stopping and looking up at me with a wistful smile. “I lived there my whole life. This is the first time I’ve been out of California. I still can’t believe I’m in New York City. It’s crazy.”

  With a small, contented shake of her head, she bit at her lip and picked up where she’d left off, the fluid sweep of her hand across the paper as she planned.

  “This is the first time you’ve been out of California?” Incredulity dropped from my mouth. How was that even possible?

  I’d traveled the world with my parents, forced to go on trip after boring trip. When I was young, I would get excited as I sat in a first-class seat on the plane, antsy to get into the air, to see new things—for my father to be there.

  But soon I realized it was always the same.

  Me stuck alone in a huge hotel room, playing my old Nintendo Game Boy with a nanny I didn’t even know, while my parents went off to do whatever they did.

  Vague memories of my mother’s promises lingered in my mind, but they were always an excuse, a lame apology that next time she would take me sightseeing or to a theme park or some other cool place I wanted to go.

  By the time I was fifteen, whenever they went out of town, I refused to go with them.

  “I guess that’s not normal for most people,” she said, “but my mom raised me and my sisters by herself, so there wasn’t a lot of money left for vacations.” She lifted her head and I could see her face. A gentle casualness framed her mouth, something that spoke of respect and grace.

  My mother would have rather died than admit she lacked the money for something. But here was this girl who couldn’t be more than eighteen, laying it all out, setting her private world on display.

  And without an agenda.

  A tiny laugh slipped through Elizabeth’s lips. “But we always had our beach.”

  For a second, sadness clouded her features, an almost indiscernible twitch of her muscles.

  “You miss it,” I blurted through a whisper. It wasn’t a question. I felt it as it suddenly saturated the air around us.

  Shrugging, she began to doodle on the margin of her notepad. “That obvious, huh?” She grimaced a smile. “It just kinda hit me a couple of days ago. I’ve never been away from home, and here I am, all the way across the country with no friends or family. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I worked my entire life to get here, and I’m beyond thankful for it.”

  She wet her lips, swallowed, and averted her gaze as she hunched her shoulders. “I just really miss my mom.”

  Something that resembled pain struck me deep in the chest. I was so far out of my element, a million miles from what I knew.

  What I knew were girls who wanted the exact thing I wanted.

  Ones who climbed in my bed without a second thought.

  Our intentions were never dishonest, and that was where it always ended. I never pretended I would give them any more. And they never pretended they wanted anything more from me, either.

  But right then, the only thing I knew was I really wanted to hug this girl.

  I didn’t even know her, though it didn’t take a lot for me to realize I wanted to.

  “Hey,” I said as I leaned in low to capture her gaze, sliding my palm across the table to rest next to her notebook. My fingers twitched, and I resisted the urge to take her hand that lay an inch away. “You’re not alone.”

  I raised a brow, lightening my tone in hope of lightening her mood. “Just think of all the time you’re going to have to spend studying with me.”

  Her head was still bowed when she laughed and looked up at me from under the hedge of hair that had fallen like a veil to the side of her face, though the sadness that had temporarily hazed her expression was gone.

  She smiled, and it was as if I could see everything inside of her.

  In that moment, I had this strange sense that I knew her better than I’d ever known anyone, even though I really didn’t know her at all.

  Elizabeth was strong and driven, incredibly intelligent, but what was most apparent was she was genuinely kind.

  She emitted a slight snort and raised her own brow. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not, Christian.”

  It was all tease and truth, playful words loaded with innuendo that confirmed she’d already made assumptions about me.

  “How about you?” she asked. “You’re from here?”

  “Nah, I’m from Virginia.”

  “Virginia.” She seemed to ponder it as if it were some foreign, exotic place. “So what brought you to New York?”

  I laughed low, but it lacked any humor. “I’ve known I would be going to Columbia since I was a little boy.”

  There was never any choice. Anything less and all my father’s careful grooming, priming me for the future he’d picked out for me, would have all been in vain.

  Frowning, she reached out to wrap her slender fingers around her coffee mug and sipped at it as she waited for me to continue.

  I answered her as simply as I could. “My dad went here.”

  “Ah.” She nodded as if she understood what I meant, as if she recognized she’d hit a nerve. She looked like she was tempted to ask me more.

  I quickly changed the subject. My parents were the last thing I wanted to talk about. “So what about you? Why New York?”

  She got that wistful smile again, her eyes soft and her words softer. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but have you ever had a place that just became a fairy tale to you?”

  I blinked, not really understanding, but wishing I could. I offered a little shrug. “No. Not really.”

  Definitely not.

  She reddened again, dipping her chin in the way she did every time she seemed to get self-conscious. “New York has always been like that for me, from the time I was a little girl. I always thought it had to be the most amazing place in the world. Then when I decided I wanted to be an attorney, I knew it had to be Columbia.”

  “Wait . . . what? You’re pre-law?”

  She nodded.

  Could she be any more perfect for me?

  And where the hell did that thought come from?

  “Me too,” I said.

  She sat up, both of us more excited than we probably needed to be. “Really?”

  “Yeah . . . you know, my dad’s headed a firm for years. Real estate. I’m going to take over for him when he retires.”

  “Oh God . . . that’s amazing.” She was grinning, maybe happy for me. Maybe happy to find out we had more in common than we’d initially thought.

  “What are you going into?” I asked.

  She was still smiling, her body vibrating in her seat. “I’m not sure yet. Some sort of family law . . . I want to work for the state or a non-profit.” Passion poured from her mouth, her heavy exhale thick with emotion. She hugged herself, as if she were imagining herself there, what her future would be like. “Something where I can help kids.” Her face glowed. “An advocate of some kind. I don’t know.”

  She shrugged, but clearly not because she didn’t
care. It didn’t have to be perfect. It just had to be right.

  I was floored.

  I’d never met anyone like her.

  I knew what those jobs paid. Obviously, Elizabeth did too. She was after the worst position any attorney could ever have, what my father called scrounge work.

  For years, he pounded it into my psyche that it would be required before I made it to the top. He wouldn’t even consider allowing me into his firm until I’d spent at least two years scrubbing. I expected it to be the two worst years of my life.

  And it appeared to be Elizabeth’s ultimate goal.

  For my dad, it wasn’t about giving back. It was about paying dues. He wanted to see me scrape the bottom of the barrel so I’d understand what he was giving me when he ultimately handed me a job on a silver platter.

  “What?” she asked when she noticed my expression. Confusion dimmed the light that had glimmered from her face.

  I stared at her for too long, my mouth dry and my palms wet. How badly I wanted to climb inside her, to really understand her, to know what it’d feel like not to be driven by money and greed.

  But the last thing I wanted was her to see inside of me.

  I shook my head. “Nothing. That’s just . . . really cool, Elizabeth.”

  “Thanks, Christian.” A humble smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. She flipped the textbook shut and shoved the syllabus into a folder. “I need to get going. Are we good to meet here on Monday, then? Same time?” she asked.

  Monday was five days from now. Something inside me protested. I didn’t want to wait that long to see her again.

  “What are you doing Friday night?”

  “Me? Studying.” She emitted a low laugh and shook her head as if anticipating what I would say next.

  “How about you go out to dinner with me instead?” I asked her anyway. I smiled that smile again.

  “That’s not going to happen.” Red colored her cheeks, but she seemed to be fighting a smile. She gathered a few loose papers and tapped the bottom edge of the pile on the table to straighten them.

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

  “And how do you know what kind of girl I’m looking for?”

  She sat back in her chair, leveling her gaze on me.

  I fidgeted under it.

  All traces of that shyness were gone and set in its place was a steely determination as she lifted her chin high. “Okay then, Christian, answer me something.”

  I tilted my head. I was so going to regret agreeing to this, but I couldn’t help but bite. “All right.”

  A smile danced in her brown eyes. “How long have you been in New York?”

  I let out the breath I was holding. Okay, that was easy. Relieved, I inched a little closer. “My parents had me moved up here at the beginning of the summer. They said they wanted me to have a chance to get used to my surroundings. I figure they just wanted me out of their hair.”

  She nodded subtly, her brow cinched together as if she’d been struck with some unknown suspicion.

  “Are you happy here?” whispered from her mouth as if she were asking me to reveal my darkest secret.

  I blinked, caught off guard by the sudden intensity of her voice. “Anywhere is better than spending another minute in my parents’ house.” I answered her honestly because I found I didn’t know how to lie to the girl sitting across from me.

  For a second, her expression softened, and she just nodded as she held my gaze. I was pretty sure I’d never felt more exposed than I did in that single moment.

  She cleared her throat and looked away, breaking the connection. When she looked back up, everything had shifted, the same challenge glinting in her eyes. “And how many girls have you slept with since you got here?”

  Oh shit. Of course, she had to ask the one question I didn’t want to answer, voicing the judgment she’d already cast.

  “Uh . . . um . . .” I stumbled, then bit down on my bottom lip, shaking my head as I released a self-conscious laugh.

  She crossed her arms over her chest, the smile at the edge of her mouth lifting. “What? You can’t count that high, or you don’t want to tell me?”

  Her tone was light, an easy mirth at my expense.

  But I could see it, set there in the perfect lines of her face that I wanted nothing more than to trace with the tips of my fingers. She really cared about my answer. She’d baited me, strung me up, and left me with nowhere to hide.

  Red-faced, I scratched the back of my neck, knowing no matter what answer I gave, it’d be the wrong one. If I lied, she’d know, and I knew there was no way she’d be okay with the truth.

  “Come on, Elizabeth . . . I just asked if you wanted to go to dinner with me.”

  “So, you’re saying you don’t want to sleep with me?”

  Frustration tumbled from my mouth in a strained groan. Still, I couldn’t lie to her.

  Like it wasn’t obvious how badly I wanted to take her back to my place and coax that blush from every inch of her body. “That’s not what I said.”

  She leaned down to her backpack that was sitting on the floor and slid her things into it. Her face was lifted to look up at me as she did. “Well, then, Christian, I think it’s safe to say I’m not the kind of girl you’re looking for.”

  The sharp peal of her zipper announced her departure.

  I really couldn’t remember ever being turned down before. I’m sure I had, but it’d made little impact on me, something forgotten as I’d immediately moved on to the next and better thing.

  This slammed me.

  I could do nothing but stare at Elizabeth as she stood and slung her backpack over her shoulders. It wasn’t a sensation I was familiar with, the bite of rejection, but now it had me pinned to my chair.

  Why the hell did this bother me so much?

  She reached up and pulled out her hair trapped by her backpack, gripping the bulk of it in a fist that she ran down the length. It spread out in a soft wave over one shoulder as she released it.

  I swallowed.

  God, looking at this girl and not being able to touch her was complete torture.

  “I’ll see you around,” she said, taking a step toward the door. She twisted to look at me, walking backward as she spoke. “If you don’t find anything better to do Friday, I’ll be studying. You have my number.”

  She grinned, and all I could do was laugh. I was definitely not expecting that.

  She spun back around, and for the first time, I was able to appreciate her perfect ass in those tight jeans.

  No, I definitely didn’t have anything better to do on Friday night.

  Shit.

  I was in so much trouble.

  “It’s a date,” I hurried to call after her.

  She swung the door open, shaking her head with a small laugh. “No, Christian, it’s not.”

  Elizabeth

  Oh, he was so off limits. So unbelievably off limits.

  The door to the café shut behind me with an echo of his throaty laughter tickling my ears.

  I hit the sidewalk, hurrying to put some space between us. I had five more minutes I could have stayed before I needed to leave for my next class, but I was getting out of there before he talked me into something I would definitely regret.

  People swarmed around me as I cut a path against the flow of the approaching crowd. I muttered unheard apologies toward my feet, edging off to the right and blending in with the bodies heading back toward campus.

  I hiked my backpack higher and tried to rid my mind of him.

  There was no way I could allow myself to get lost in this guy, and by the thoughts that smile had left swirling through my head—that stomach-flipping, heart-lurching, earth-shattering smile—I knew just how easily I could.

  Oh God.

  Christian Davison had to be the most gorgeous guy I’d ever seen.

  The second I noticed him walking through the door, I’d been caught in the darkness
concealing his face, the halo of light streaming in behind him partially casting his face in shadows.

  It was as if my body knew what hid behind them was worth waiting to discover.

  And damn, if it wasn’t right.

  The door had slipped shut when he inched forward, swallowing the shadows and revealing an unruly shock of the blackest hair I’d ever seen. Pair that with those blue eyes, and I was lost.

  They were so intense.

  So unsettling.

  His jaw was all sharp angles and hopelessly losing the battle with a coat of coarse stubble that was just as dark as the hair on his head.

  But his mouth was flirty and soft—full—something to smooth out the severity of everything else.

  It was the first time in my life I’d had the urge to reach out and touch a complete stranger, to run my fingertips over his jaw, maybe across his lips, wondering how his skin would feel under mine—wondering how I would feel doing it.

  For a moment, he’d searched the room, before recognition had dawned on his face when his eyes landed on me, his stride purposed as he’d walked my direction.

  Each step he’d taken had radiated confidence, those lips curving with an arrogance as he approached.

  It only took a couple of seconds for me to understand why his presence had seemed to fill up the entire room. Why he’d seemed to stop time when he walked through the door.

  The guy was completely full of himself.

  It’s not like I was all that experienced, but I wasn’t stupid, either. I knew exactly what Christian wanted. It had gleamed in his eyes and rippled through his muscles. I wasn’t opposed to guys—to having a boyfriend or someone who cared about me.

  What I was opposed to was giving myself to someone like him.

  The man would own me with one passing touch, and I was certain that’s exactly what it would be.

  Passing.

  The last thing I needed my first year in college was to get my heart broken by a boy who was undoubtedly after one thing. I didn’t work this hard to get here to get my heart trampled.

  After all the sacrifices I had made I wasn’t about to do something so foolish.

  Giving up on most activities my friends had reveled in—the parties, the shopping, the fun—in favor of studying and striving to win every scholarship I could earn.