Chapter 12
WEST
HEARTbrEAK AND HANDJOBS!
I need to break something.
We’ve been stuck on this island for seven fucking days.
Seven days of watching them run in and out of the house like it’s some kind of tropical paradise playground.
They’ve gone on boat tours around the bay, sea turtle diving, which I never expected Haze, of all people, to organize.
Their laughter is everywhere, and I can’t stop the way my chest feels every time I hear it.
Their bond is growing stronger with each passing day and I’m barely holding on.
I’ve tried contacting Theo, but there’s still no reception.
Total horseshit. My phone is basically an ornament.
It hasn’t left the dresser in our bedroom for days now, and that doesn’t sit right with me.
What if something happens? We’ll have no way of contacting anyone.
Or what if Theo’s tried to call me and he thinks I’m a total fucking jackass for ignoring him after everything that happened?
I’ve spent the past week pacing and moping around, walking the stretch of sand near the waterline over and over again, letting the tide lap at my feet while my mind runs wild.
I could have gone with them. They’ve invited me along to every tour they’ve been on, but I turned them down.
I can’t be trusted around her. Not after watching what unfolded by the pool last week.
I all but had a coronary watching Jovi fuck her fingers.
Haze and Beau thought they were real cool, didn’t they?
They got a front row seat, knowing I was watching.
I almost broke what little composure I had and punished all of them for their sheer fucking nerve.
For taunting me the way they did. Beau and Haze knew exactly what they were doing.
Hell, it wouldn’t surprise me if they planned it.
They know me inside and out, which means they know exactly how to get under my skin.
Jovi is right there alongside them. She’s managed to burrow her way in, leaving me restless, watching them flirt with each other all week and imagining things I really fucking shouldn’t be.
Things I can’t get out of my damn head. Her body.
The way her eyes burned into me while her fingers gently circled her clit.
How easily I could have walked over to where she was by the pool and tasted her arousal.
Claimed her cunt right there and then, ruining every other man for her that ever dares to taste her after me.
I’d have shown her what it’s like to fuck a man who knows what the hell they’re doing with their tongue.
I curse myself because I can’t stop thinking about how damn effortlessly she fits into our lives.
Shit. I can’t keep doing this. I have to stop.
Because… that’s exactly the problem. Nothing about this situation is effortless for me.
She’s not some girl I met on the street or at a bar.
She’s not my girl at all. She’s my son’s.
Was my son's—fuck! I don’t know what’s worse, being left with my own thoughts on this boring as fuck island, or knowing that the woman I can’t seem to get out of my head is sleeping across the hall from our bedroom, and nothing I do is enough to make it stop.
I’ve tossed and turned in bed for what feels like hours, every movement useless against the restless mess in my head.
Sleep has abandoned me once again. There’s just too much on my mind.
Haze shifts, rolling over so that his cheek rests against my bicep, pinning me in place.
His slow, heavy breathing is steadier than the wind rattling against our window, grounding me even as my thoughts spin.
Beau’s mumbling in his sleep, a bunch of half-formed words escaping under his breath and I can’t help the quiet chuckle that leaves my lips.
Careful not to disturb either of them, I slowly ease out from beneath their warm bodies, put on a pair of jeans and grab my jacket, before padding lightly along the hallway, then down the stairs and into the kitchen.
I should be back in Blue River right now, drowning in the amount of work waiting for me.
Instead, I’m pouring myself a whiskey, or something close to it, courtesy of the island.
I take a slow sip, the bitter liquid sliding over my tongue, the smoky taste biting at the back of my throat.
I pour another, and then another before pushing open the doors and stepping outside.
The sand is cool beneath my feet, shifting softly with every step.
Above, the moon hangs high in the sky, painting the water in streaks of rippled silver, bathing the beach in a quiet, almost hypnotic glow that makes everything look serene.
The air is still warm, thick with the smell of salt and humidity, but there’s a slight coolness tonight and it's enough to take the edge off this heat. A small mercy, considering it’s been hot as fucking balls since we got here.
I stop near the waterline and stare out at the endless dark, letting the gentle lap of the waves drown out my thoughts. Footsteps crunch softly behind me. I don’t turn right away. Don’t have to. It’s probably Beau or Haze, coming out to drag my ass back to bed like they always do.
“Relax, I haven’t drowned. I’ll come back to bed in a minute,” I mutter into the darkness.
When there’s no response, I glance over my shoulder and freeze.
Jovi is there. Her blonde hair glistens in the moonlight, as if she just stepped out of the sea and is here to tempt me.
I watch as she slowly approaches, her body bathed in silver light, highlighting every curve and delicate inch of skin.
She’s wrapped in nothing but a tiny silk nightie, a blanket half draped over her shoulders, and it does little to hide her soft, bare legs. She’s going to fucking kill me.
Jovi pauses for a moment. The night air brushes over her shoulders and I watch as the blanket shifts slightly with the breeze. She tilts her head, that familiar, mischievous glint sparkling in her eyes as she gazes down at me.
“Is this seat taken?” Her voice is soft and melodic, caressing me like a whisper.
More like a fucking car alarm because she shouldn’t be here and we both know it.
I lift my glass just slightly in a simple gesture, inviting her to the spot on the sand beside me.
She peels the blanket from around her shoulders, laying it out carefully on the sand before she settles onto it.
The space between us is minimal, and I realize I’ve barely breathed since she arrived.
She stares out at the ocean, taking in the midnight hues, and I know I should say something, but I decide against it.
“I owe you an apology,” she says, not once meeting my gaze. I stay still as a wave of confusion hits me, because I don’t really know what she feels the need to apologize for.
“Oh? For what?” I reply, letting the sound of the water fill the silence. She bites her lip, something she does often, I've noticed, and her shoulders tense.
“For… everything,” she admits on an exhale. “For making things messy.”
“Messy?” I repeat, letting my gaze roam over her, my brows furrowed.
“I think you know what I’m talking about, West.” Fuck. The way she says my name… Like it’s a secret meant for me alone, and my cock stiffens in my jeans in response.
“You’re gonna have to enlighten me,” I reply, taking another sip of whiskey, though it does nothing to calm the way my body reacts to her being so close to me.
“Theo and I… we weren’t in love.” She pauses, choosing her words carefully.
I don’t think she planned to come out here.
But she did anyway. And it looks like we’re having that conversation.
“We weren’t fair to each other, not once.
In fact, I’m pretty sure I was avoiding him for most of our relationship.
” She lets out a soft sigh, fragile but threaded with an undercurrent of disappointment.
I listen intently. “He occupied himself with a smorgasbord of other women, and if I’m being honest, I don’t care.
” Her shoulders shift and she wraps her arms around herself.
Instinctively, I shrug off my jacket and hold it out to her.
“Here.” She hesitates, glancing at the jacket in my hand, then up to meet my eyes, before finally taking it.
“Thanks,” she says, sliding it over her shoulders, not bothering to put it on.
Goddamn. The thought of her in my clothes feeds something wild in me.
Something I’m not sure either of us can handle.
I can’t look. I turn toward the ocean, letting the shadowed horizon distract me because that’s my safest bet.
Every muscle in me is aware of her, so I decide not to say anything for fear of implicating myself.
There’s no question my son is an asshole.
I don’t know what it is with him. I’ve tried time and time again to get through to him.
To get him to open up. To try to understand him better, but each time he just locks up and goes against me.
Knowing the way he treated Jovi… it makes my fucking blood boil.
She doesn’t deserve that shit. No one does.
And Theo’s lucky I don’t kick his ass for it.
“I thought you were Theo, you know. The handjob…
I thought that if I was all the things he said I wasn't that he’d give me another chance.
In hindsight, I realize that it wasn't because I cared about saving our relationship as much as it was about me. Because deep down, I knew that I was complacent and wanted a chance to do better. His rejection meant that I had failed. And that had never been an option for me.” I listen intently to her confession, understanding all too well what that's like.
“Don't worry about it. It was a mistake. You thought I was Theo. It wasn't, and now you can move on,” I say, like I haven't thought about that night every day since it happened.
“No can do, West.”