CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Zane
Blair squirms as I hold her in the shallows, my concerned gaze locked on her cheek while I gently stroke her palm. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Is there blood?” she asks, the panic in her voice rising.
“Nope. No blood. But it is going to bruise.”
“That’s fine.” With her free hand, she lightly pats the graze below her eye, making no move to break free from my grasp. “I’m good.”
Her eyes meet mine, and her pulse races under the pad of my thumb, my traitorous heart pounding.
“Do you want to go home?” I ask as she shivers in my arms.
She just crashed off her surfboard and was under the water for longer than anyone should be. I can’t imagine she’s ready to head back out there. But this is Blair, so who knows. She can be stubborn at times.
Her brows furrow as I stare at her, and something about it sends a warmth right through me.
“Do you?” she counters, making me grin as her adorable expression morphs with confusion. “God, I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”
“Maybe you hit your head?”
“I didn’t. Just my face. But God, I’m so embarrassed.” Her cheeks heat and I find myself following the pink hue down to her chest until her breasts heave, snapping me out of it.
“Why?” I rush out. “It’s just me.”
“True. Better you than Cade, but still.” She glances away and I grab her chin, forcing her to look at me.
“Are you going to tell me what happened?”
“Nope.”
“You’ve been surfing since we were kids, B, and I’ve never seen you fall that hard.”
“Waves are unpredictable; people fall all the time.”
Not like that. But… “Okay, I’ll continue to picture the story in my head.”
Blair gasps. “What story?”
“That you saw me jogging, shirtless, and lost all concentration.”
“You wish.” She lowers her gaze, her eyes now locked on my bare chest, and my pulse spikes.
“That may not have distracted you then,” I rasp, “but it’s distracting you now.” Her eyes lift to mine and I chuckle, trying to ignore the way my muscles tense from her lust-filled appraisal.
“I’m not going to lie, Fitzpatrick. Your body is fine.”
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” Grinning, I brush the wet strands away from her forehead, checking for myself.
“Maybe? But it doesn’t make it any less true.” Blair’s eyes flutter and she stares up at me through her impossibly long lashes.
“You’re not too bad yourself, Little B.”
“Gee, thanks.” She barks out a laugh and wriggles out of my hold, standing to full height. My gaze gets caught on the apex of her thighs and my throat bobs. No, nope, nuh-uh. This is Blair.
This. Is. Blair.
The girl I’ve known forever, my best friend’s little sister.
A tightness works its way into my chest and I quickly look away. What am I doing? It’s Blair.
“Zane?” Blair’s breathy voice cuts into my mind and I glance up, making things worse when I notice her nipples pebbling through her bikini. A bikini that leaves nothing to the imagination.
Goddammit.
An irrational anger takes over me as I scan the beach for other surfers. “Why aren’t you wearing a rash guard?” I snap, jumping up to stand next to her, shielding her from view.
“It’s a hundred degrees out here.” She rolls her eyes and gestures to my abs. “Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
It’s a valid point and yet the two questions are vastly different. I don’t care who stares at my chest, but I care about hers. “Let’s get you to the sand. I think I saw your towel.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re shivering, B. Humor me.”
“Yes, sir.” She salutes and my fucking cock twitches. What the hell? “Let’s go.”
She stalks toward the sand, throwing me a wave over her shoulder, and I can’t stop myself from admiring her ass when it wriggles in front of me.
By the time I realize what I’m doing, it’s too late. I’m already fucked.
I think I want my best friend’s little sister.
Actually, no. I don’t think that—I know it.
I want Blair. And she’s completely off-limits.