Chapter 23 #2
I pulled out a cigarette and slipped it between my lips while waiting in line to pay. When it was my turn, I dropped the basket on the counter and stared at the cashier. He couldn’t have been older than sixteen. It was a fucking Thursday. Shouldn’t this kid be in school or something?
His fingers twitched against the counter, and his gaze dropped to my lips before he swallowed heavily. “You can’t smoke in here.”
I spoke around the cigarette. “Does it look lit to you?”
He blinked. “No.”
I stared at him. He stared back. With a nervous throat clear, he started ringing up my items. I realized at the last minute that I needed something to carry all this shit in.
This was Jersey, and most stores charged for plastic bags.
Which was fine, because I cared about the environment like a decent fucking human being.
I snatched a woven straw beach bag off the nearest rack and tossed it onto the counter with everything else. “Put that shit in there.”
“Okay, sir,” he mumbled.
I left the store with my purchases in the new bag.
It wasn’t until I got outside that I realized the damn thing had bright purple and yellow flowers stitched all over it.
I pulled the straps over my shoulder and lit the cigarette between my lips before crossing the street. I was already itching to see Devlin.
When I opened the door to the hotel room, I found him sitting naked and cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Sports highlights played on the TV at a low volume. He rose onto his knees before pausing at the sight of my bag.
“What the hell is that?”
“A bag.”
He reached for it, then tilted his head as he read aloud, “Girls just wanna have sun.”
I looked down. “Didn’t see that when I bought it.”
“It’s cute. Really suits your vibe.”
“Shut up,” I pulled out the swim shorts I’d gotten him and tossed them at his head. “Put these on.”
He pulled the shorts off his face and held them up in one hand.
They were covered in little cartoon frogs printed over a bright blue background.
Devlin stared at them for what felt like way too fucking long, and warmth crept up my neck that absolutely was not a blush.
I’d just been out in the sun. That was all.
He dropped his hands into his lap, clutching the shorts in one fist. “I like them.”
All I could do was grunt.
I shucked off my jeans and T-shirt and pulled on my own swim shorts—a solid navy-blue pair that was the plainest thing I could find. I was not walking out there in a fluorescent lightning pattern.
Devlin’s sharp voice drew my attention. “Cian, what the hell?”
I turned to find him standing in front of the bathroom mirror, wearing the shorts. They were… tight. Really tight. Showed off his ass perfectly. He turned with a glare and gestured at them. “Are you fucking serious?”
“They look great.”
“They’re cutting off blood flow.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
He blew out a breath and braced his hands on his hips. Fuck, he looked great in those shorts. The little green frogs brought out the color of his eyes, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.
“You did this on purpose. These are a boys XXL.”
I shrugged. “Must’ve read the tag wrong.”
“Oh, but you read your tag right? Because your shorts seem just fine.”
“I need more room. My dick’s bigger.”
His jaw dropped, but before he could throw something at me, I hauled him into my arms and blew a raspberry into his neck. He squealed and laughed, and I knew I’d won this round.
Devlin
Cian made me stand on the balcony while he sprayed my entire body with sunscreen, even the tops of my feet. Then he coated my face in some kind of lotion that tinged my skin white. It was moments like this that reminded me he’d been a pseudo-parent for nearly half his life.
While I returned the favor and sprayed him, he said, “I made sure to buy the reef-safe sunscreen.”
“What does that mean?”
“When this stuff gets in the water, it’s not supposed to harm the reefs. Or other wildlife. I don’t know, just fucking finish up, okay?”
“You have a lot of skin, Cian. Chill.”
On our way out the door, I picked up the beach bag and spotted something black and white inside.
I reached in and pulled out a small stuffed orca.
My brain could hardly process what I was looking at, and I must’ve stared at it for a good thirty seconds while Cian fidgeted beside me. Cian never fidgeted.
Finally, I lifted my gaze to his. “You bought me a stuffed orca.”
He looked anywhere but in my eyes as a red flush stained his cheeks. “A percentage of the purchase goes toward conservation efforts.”
“You bought me a stuffed orca.” I repeated slowly.
He shrugged. “Maybe I bought it for me.”
I held it out to him. “You want it, then?”
“I guess you can borrow it.”
I grinned. “You’re such a dick.” I peered into the bag again and spotted another stuffed animal. This time, I pulled out a great white shark, and I looked up at Cian with a raised eyebrow.
“Didn’t want the orca to be lonely…” he mumbled, like that was a perfectly logical reason.
My stomach fluttered. I placed the orca and shark side by side on a nest of pillows, facing the TV. “I love them.”
He snatched the bag out of my hand and hooked the straps over his shoulder like a purse. Then he slid a pair of aviator-style sunglasses over his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
We rented chairs and towels from the hotel and made our way out to the beach.
I knew we were going to have a problem as soon as we stepped onto the sand.
All heads turned to us. Particularly Cian, because of course.
He stood at least six foot four, was built like a professional athlete, and had acres of tattooed skin.
And despite his claim he was ugly, he made those cheap-ass sunglasses look designer.
It was ludicrous. I’d never paid much attention to how other people looked at Cian, because we hadn’t been around anyone but his crew.
But here, in this setting, I finally realized how easily he drew attention.
It made my hackles go up. I wanted to cling to him like a barnacle.
Snarl at everyone. Tattoo my name on his forehead. Pee on him.
He didn’t seem to notice that we were the hot new couple on the beach.
With his ridiculous flowery straw bag, Cian marched down the sand to the top of the tide.
He snapped open his chair with a flip of his wrist before plunking it into the wet sand.
The second he sat down, it sank a few inches, and he turned around to find me still standing there with my folded chair.
“What’re you doing?” he said. “Sit.”
I looked up and down the beach. Teenagers were throwing a football in the surf nearby. An elderly couple walking together had to detour into deeper sand to get around Cian’s big-ass body blocking their path.
“Right here? Isn’t this where people walk and stuff?”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” He turned back around to face the ocean and splayed his legs wide in the chair. Foamy seawater rushed over his feet. “They can walk around us.”
I sighed as I unfolded my chair and sat beside him. Because what other answer did I expect Cian to give? Of course he’d act like he owned the public beach.
He was still completely unaware people were looking at us, including a group of college-age girls in bikinis.
But I was aware. I was very aware. I tried to focus on the sound of the waves and the feeling of cold water rushing over my feet.
But the girls just kept looking at us and whispering to each other.
I could tell Cian’s eyes were closed behind his sunglasses as he lounged back in his chair, his hands folded over the LOYALTY tattoo on his stomach.
I leaned toward him on the arm of my chair. “Those girls are looking at you.”
He didn’t answer or move. Not even a finger twitch.
I wasn’t letting it go. “Don’t you wanna look?”
Cian exhaled loudly. “Why would I?”
“Aren’t you attracted to women?”
“Sometimes. They’re just not usually attracted to me.”
“Well, those ones seem interested.”
He didn’t even open his eyes. “Don’t piss me off at the beach, Dev.”
“Aren’t you even curious?”
He cracked open his eyes behind his sunglasses and stared up at the sky. “You are. You’re going to piss me off in front of the ocean and everything.”
“I’m just saying, one girl is basically wearing a total of two square inches of red fabric.”
He rolled his head to look at me. “What do you want me to say? I like tits? Jesus.”
“What if you decide you miss those parts?”
Cian whipped off his glasses and yanked my chair toward his so hard the armrests clacked together.
He leaned into my space, eyes blazing. “I don’t know about anyone else, but that’s not how it works for me.
I don’t just wake up and decide I’m jonesing for pussy and go find some.
For me, bisexuality is that I either find people attractive or I don’t. Their gender doesn’t factor into it.”
He let out a harsh breath through his nose before leaning back in his chair and sliding his sunglasses into place.
“And the only body parts I’ll miss are the ones attached to you.
So don’t lose anything.” He thrust his hand out toward the ocean as water lapped at our ankles.
“Can you enjoy the beach now? Like a normal fucking person?”
I rolled my lips between my teeth. “I think I might need therapy.”
He snorted. “You think?”
“Oh, like you’re the pinnacle of mental wellness, Cian.”
He shrugged. “Who is?”
“But if I go and I tell them about you, they’ll try to tell me we’re toxic. I don’t want that. I want a your-father-was-a-piece-of-shit therapist. Not a your-criminal-boyfriend-is-a-controlling-asshole therapist.”
Cian barked out a laugh before turning to me with a smile. “You’re funny when you’re not pissing me off.”
I preened. “I have my moments.”
“How about you use one of those moments to shut up now? Listen to the waves. This is supposed to be relaxing.”