Chapter Twelve
When we finally made it to the Cape, Tyler parked his truck in the driveway of one of the three-story cottages we’d rented for the party and he bolted out of the truck like it was on fire.
He’d already given quick hugs to his parents and shoved his hands into his pockets with his feet moving him toward the beach before I’d even opened the passenger side door.
I watched him go, watched the way the muscles of his back shifted under his t-shirt and the sea breeze blew through his hair, but it was only a millisecond before Morgan was at my side, barking out orders to everyone around for what to grab out of the truck and where to take it.
“Glad you two made it safely,” Robert said, pulling me into his side for a hug before he grabbed the first box out of the truck.
Amanda had me in her arms next. “You look as beat as we were after our drive out the other day. Why don’t you run up and get showered, you’ll feel good as new.
” She pulled back with a smile, and I loved the way she looked in that moment — hair in a messy ponytail, glasses on her nose, not a stitch of makeup on.
She was in beach mode, and I realized that when she looked like this, I saw every feature Morgan got from her.
I also realized that she and my Aunt Laura were the closest things I’d ever known to a real mother.
“Okay,” I said, glancing at the waves crashing on the beach behind the cottage with a longing sigh. I hadn’t been back on the Cape since the summer before senior year when I’d come with Morgan and her family, and being back was already flooding me with memories of my last summer as a kid.
My last summer with Morgan and Tyler.
Part of me wanted to run to the beach, or to our favorite ice cream joint, or to the old lighthouse we loved to climb after dark. I wanted to run back in time, to that summer, to that girl I had once been.
But Morgan’s mom was right — I was exhausted, in more ways than she knew, and maybe a shower would help right me.
“You’re on the third floor,” Amanda said, handing me my suitcase with a dramatic groan. “Luckily for you, there’s an elevator.” She winked with the tease. “You’re the last room on the left. All the names are on the doors, so you should be able to find it easily.”
I thanked her, huffing my suitcase and small duffle bag up the stairs that led to the cottage before rolling them inside and to the small elevator that ran up the middle of the house. I pushed the button for the third floor and zoned out as the low hum of the elevator took me up.
I took a left once the elevator came to a halt, and then I groaned, because Tyler’s name was written in neat script across the paper taped to the first door. I blew out a breath, marching purposefully past it until I found mine, which was the next one over.
The universe hates me.
When I pushed through the door, a small smile broke through my sourpuss attitude at the sight of the breathtaking view.
There were floor-to-ceiling windows on the left, with a sliding glass door out onto my own private balcony straight ahead, a gorgeous, plush queen bed, and striking photographs of the beach everywhere, along with fishing net and seashells, and all the colors of the sunrise in every little detail of the room.
And right in the middle of the long, white dresser near the window was a gorgeous bouquet of flowers.
Setting my suitcase by the door, I made my way to the dresser, fingering the soft petals of the coral roses and crisp, white lilies before I reached for the card beside them.
I wish it could be me greeting you at the beach house instead of these flowers, but I can’t wait to join you and make new memories in a new place together. I love you, sunshine. XO — Jacob
Guilt and longing soared through me like two giant birds, their wings sweeping every corner of my chest as I stumbled backward until the back of my knees hit the edge of the bed. I sat, sinking into the plush comforter, staring at the words on the note with an ache in my chest.
Jacob was my person.
He was my everything , and had been for months.
How could I have lost sight of that? How could I have so easily let him slip from my mind, filling that space with the one boy I’d sworn I would forget?
I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream. I wanted to throw myself out the window just to save everyone in my life from the disaster I’d become.
Instead, I held the note to my chest, closing my eyes and breathing in a promise to Jacob and to myself that I would get myself back on track.
I’d slipped. I’d made a mistake. I’d gone prying into a past possibility that would never, ever be, and I had to find a way to let it go.
To let Tyler go.
When my eyes fluttered open, I spotted a figure down the beach, a white t-shirt and mess of brown hair fading in the distance.
And I knew without a second thought that this would be the hardest thing I would ever do.
Later that night, or early the next morning — I couldn’t be sure which — I woke from a dream so vivid it felt more real than the bed I woke up in.
It took a moment for me to adjust to the unfamiliar surroundings of the beach house, to the sound of the waves washing over the shore outside, the soft hum of the fan above me, the scent of the salt and sand.
My heart was racing, sweat covering me in a thin film as I kicked the covers off of me and let out a groan, covering my face with both hands.
In my dream, Tyler had snuck into my room, into my bed, and I’d woken with his hand inside my panties.
The dream that had felt so real was blurred now, cementing the fact that that was all it was — a dream. But when I’d first woke, I’d almost expected for him to still be there beside me, his fingers still wet from my climax, lips still sinking into my neck with soft, pressing kisses.
I shook my head, dragging my hands down over my face until they flopped onto the mattress at my sides. I needed to go back to sleep. It’d be a long day tomorrow, and I needed rest.
But the ache between my legs was so strong and insistent that I writhed against it, biting my lip and trying not to think about the fact that Tyler was right next door.
His bed could be against the same wall as mine was, our headboards separated by only a thin layer of drywall.
He could be sleeping just a few feet away from me right now, curled onto one side, softly snoring, dreaming.
Or maybe he was awake, too… his hands in his boxers, back arching off the bed as he moaned, touching himself to the thought of me.
No .
I shook my head, mentally slapping myself. If I needed to rub one out to go back to bed, it would be to the thoughts of my handsome, amazing, perfect boyfriend who I’d spent the evening with on video chat.
I closed my eyes, picturing his face — his deep green eyes that had stolen my breath away the first time we met, his bulging biceps and sculpted abs, the way he seductively bit his lip before pulling me into him…
I rolled onto my stomach, tucking a pillow between my leg with the movement, and even the softest brush of the fabric against my clit had me sucking in a breath and stifling a moan.
It wouldn’t take me long.
My hips flexed, knees spreading wide over the mattress as I closed my eyes and succumbed to the sensation rushing through me like a flood.
I was suspended somewhere between being asleep and being awake, my body moving in dreamlike waves and rolls, soft fleets of breath leaving my lips with every pulse of my racing heart.
I knew exactly how to move, how to rub my clit against the firm edge of the pillow just right. The orgasm was already building before even a full minute had passed, and I picked up the pace, desperate to reach my climax.
Tingles shot like sparks in my chest, firing through my nervous system to every part of my body. Just a few more flexes and I knew I’d come.
And as soon as the recognition hit me, my dream assaulted me like a whip, cracking against my back, my inner thighs, my heavy and swollen breasts.
The pillow between my legs was suddenly Tyler, and a soft moan broke through me at the vividness of it, at how I could imagine his hands on me, his body under mine, his eyes staring up at me as I rode his thick and throbbing cock.
That was what undid me.
My orgasm burst through me like an explosion of powder and flame, filling my chest with black smoke as I cried out and rode it as long as I could.
My hips flexed, glutes aching with how much I leaned into the feeling, and I couldn’t be quiet.
I moaned and gasped and screamed as quietly as I could, knowing it wasn’t quiet at all, and all with the vision of Tyler beneath me and inside me and surrounding me in every possible way.
When my hips stilled, the room came back to life.
I heard how heavy I was breathing, saw how mussed the sheets were all around me, how every other pillow on the bed was on the floor except for the one still perched between my legs.
My panties stuck to me, completely drenched, and I rolled onto my back with my chest still heaving, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes until I saw stars.
“Jesus Christ, Jasmine,” I cursed myself on a whisper, shaking my head. I was supposed to be forgetting Tyler. I’d spent the whole night with Jacob, reminding myself of why I needed to let go of the past, of the fantasy I’d built in my head.
Of the possibility of us .
It seemed my sex drive and my conscious were on two completely different pages.
I sighed, shaking my head and climbing out of bed to clean myself up. After a short, cold shower and a fresh change of clothes, I crawled back into bed having convinced myself that it wasn’t a big deal.
So what, I masturbated thinking of Tyler. People masturbated to things they couldn’t have all the time — to porn, to visions of their exes, to celebrities, whatever. It was completely normal, and it didn’t mean a damn thing.
Somewhere between that thought and me slipping back into sleep, I thought I heard a thump against the wall lining my headboard, and a groan of a man giving into temptation.
But I was sure it was just a dream.