Chapter 28 #2
As I listen to the comforting thrum of his heartbeat, he traces patterns over my shoulder with his fingertips, and goosebumps break out across my skin.
I drape my arm across his abdomen, the muscles clenching at my touch, and flush with a sudden awareness of his body.
Of the taut stomach beneath my hand, the hard pectoral beneath my cheek, the strong bicep supporting my head.
Taking a shaky breath, I peek up at him, only to find him regarding me with an intent expression. “Hey,” he whispers.
“Hi,” I whisper back, eyes locked with his.
I see something swirling there, deep in their dark depths—something more powerful than affection and more potent than desire.
I never dreamed that someone would look at me like this.
Never thought there was even a remote possibility.
This look, whatever it is, overwhelms my spirit but deeply calms my soul.
Terrifies my mind but fills my body with intense longing.
This look is everything.
He tilts his head down, so I tilt mine up, my eyes fluttering shut as our lips touch. The kiss is tentative at first, but the moment our tongues brush, we stop holding back. It deepens as his tongue strokes mine, over and over in a hypnotic rhythm, and my body starts to hum.
Shifting so we’re both on our sides, I press against him, needing more.
Wanting more. His hand slides down my back to my waist, a hesitant graze like he’s unsure of what to touch, and his thick thigh nudges between my legs.
It feels good, the pressure there easing the growing ache, and instead of retreating, I hitch my leg over his hip.
I press closer, searching for more friction, more heat, more everything.
“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs, and then his mouth is back on mine, passionate and intense and all-consuming. I kiss him back with everything I have, and his hand slips beneath my shirt, fingers tightening against my waist and pulling me closer.
I run my hand along the hard plains of his chest and the smooth muscle of his back, charting over warm skin.
Mapping out his body in a way I haven’t done before.
He feels incredible, every part of him, and my hips roll, grinding against his thigh.
A whimper breaks free of my lips, and he groans in response, tugging my bottom lip between his teeth.
I gasp, my stomach dipping as heat sears down my spine.
I feel needy. Frantic. Desperate to have him. I want clothes off, skin bare, and Wes’s body intertwined with mine. I want to know what that feels like. What he feels like.
I need to know.
But what about last time?
There’s no excuse for what happens next.
He doesn’t do anything wrong. He doesn’t touch me any differently.
There are no warning bells or cautionary signs because this is Wes.
But the events of the last time we did this flash through my head, sudden and unwelcome, and I panic.
I can’t help it. I get stuck in my own head, spiral with my dark thoughts, freak the fuck out, and completely ruin the moment.
Abruptly, I pull back and put space between us before I can even think it through. I push up to a seated position, my heart pounding as I try to catch my breath. Then, it hits me what I’ve just done. “I’m sorry,” I blurt. “I’m so sorry. I’m—”
“It’s okay, Ivy,” Wes says, sitting up beside me. The concern in his voice makes me feel worse. “You never have to apologize.”
I don’t look at him. Can’t look at him. I grip my head in my hands and press my forehead to my bent knees, frustrated with myself.
Frustrated with the situation. Frustrated that the intimacy I think I want one moment turns into something I’m terrified of in the next.
It’s not fair, and I hate that he ruined this for me.
I hate that I can’t be normal. “I’m sorry. I panicked because of…because of…”
“Because of what happened last time,” he finishes for me.
Compassion and understanding seep from his words, and I nod, shame crashing over me like a tidal wave.
A tear leaks out even though I told myself I’d be free on this trip, and I duck my head, angry that my mind and emotions won’t do what I tell them to.
I’ve never felt so powerless.
Wes moves across the bed to kneel in front of me, and when I glance up, his strong hands frame my face. His thumbs brush over my cheeks, catching the tears before they hit my jawline.
“Baby, don’t cry,” he murmurs. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m sorry,” I croak.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything. I wasn’t expecting to do anything. Let’s just sleep, okay?”
I swallow. “Are you upset with me?”
His eyes bore into mine. “No. Never. There are no expectations. I just want to hold you. I only want to hold you.”
So I let him hold me, comforted by his sweet assurances, and it’s not long before I start to doze.
I have a fleeting thought as I fall asleep. It sends me back to three weeks ago, and I realize that nothing is different. I’m trapped in the same cycle. The same endless loop.
Because let’s be honest.
This won’t always be enough.
I wake defeated. Beaten down and emotionally hungover.
The guilt and shame from last night seem to have left their mark on my soul, and I wish I knew how to cleanse it.
How to exorcise the demons and scrub my mind, spirit, body until they’re pure and sparkling.
Until they emit light instead of shadow.
Like Wes.
You’ll never be enough for him.
I hardly slept, stress and unease keeping me conscious.
So many times I thought about waking Wes, but he looked so peaceful in his sleep that I couldn’t bring myself to disrupt him.
One of us should rest. One of us should recharge.
One of us should escape into their subconscious for the night.
I selfishly wish it was me, though that’s probably the sleep deprivation talking.
Over coffee, I search Wes’s face for signs that he’s upset about last night, but as usual, he’s his typical, easygoing self.
He smiles at me over his steaming mug like he hasn’t even thought about how dysfunctional our relationship is and how it’s all my fault.
So I smile back like I haven’t thought about it either.
I worry I’m getting too good at masking around him.
The first newcomers to arrive are Paul and his girlfriend, Malorie, around lunchtime.
Wes introduces me to his old teammate, who I’ve only seen in passing, and he seems nice enough.
Malorie doesn’t look familiar, but she’s the typical sorority girl I’d expect to hang around Ava and Kinsley, and I can’t help but feel a bit on edge.
When she greets me with a warm smile and a hug, I force myself to relax. Just because she looks like someone who could be friends with Alexis, doesn’t mean she had any hand in the forum. At least, I have to believe that for the sake of my sanity on this trip.
Since the final additions to our group aren’t supposed to arrive until later today, we make sandwiches and bring them out to the beach, taking advantage of the hottest part of the day to get some sun.
Everyone chats while we sit in the sand, and I find myself retreating inward, reverting around new people the way I always do.
I take comfort in the fact that Chloe is also much quieter than yesterday, and for once, I’m not the only socially reserved person in the room.
After we eat, the guys start throwing a frisbee down the beach while Malorie, Chloe, and I hunt for shells.
I collect a handful of unique ones, and I trade a few with Chloe before stuffing the rest into my pocket for safekeeping.
Eventually, the guys convince us to join in the game, and we play until the sun dips behind a dark expanse of clouds and the temperature drops.
The moment we’re back at the house, Malorie cranks the music and hunts through every cabinet for the blender.
Soon, she’s making frozen pina coladas…and a mess that has Ben muttering to himself about keeping a clean kitchen.
The guys put together a beer pong table, Kaden calls out for pizza delivery, and before long we hear a car pull into the beach pebble driveway, signaling the arrival of the rest of the group.
“Fuck yeah! Spring break! Let’s get this party started!” calls an unfamiliar voice, bursting into the house.
“Don’t tell me you left Ace at a gas station,” says Wes as he moves to hug his friend.
“That happened one time,” says the guy who must be Cory, clapping Wes on the back. “He’s getting shit from the trunk. We brought so much booze, man. Ace got carried away.”
Wes snorts. “What else is new?”
Overwhelmed, I excuse myself to use the restroom. I’ve had one of Malorie’s pina coladas, but I barely feel it, and I debate switching to something harder as I wash my hands, telling my reflection that this is a safe environment. I’m with Wes. Everyone’s cool here.
I take a deep breath and head back out, bumping into two of the new arrivals in the hallway as they explore the house for the first time.
“Hey, I’m Cory,” says the guy, extending his hand. I shake it and then move on to the girl’s beside him. “This is my girlfriend, Jamie.”
“Great to meet you,” she says.
“You, too,” I say, wanting to make a somewhat decent impression. “I’m Ivy.”
“Wes’s girl! Doubly great to meet you then,” says Cory. “We go way back, him and I.”
I nod. “Yeah, he mentioned that. Do you guys, um, like the house?”
“Oh my god, it’s incredible,” Jamie gushes. “I want to permanently move in.”
I smile at her. “I know, right?”
We talk a while longer about the rental, and then they excuse themselves to go claim their bedroom. Now that I’ve met nearly everyone on the trip, I relax a bit more and step back into the kitchen in search of Wes.
“Hey, Ivy!” calls Ben. “Come over here. Have you met Ace? Doc’s friend from back home?”
I look up at the man beside Ben.
And freeze.
I replay his words in my head because I understand them, but I don’t understand them.
Have you met Ace? Doc’s friend from back home?
But that’s not—that’s not—that’s—
Mason Bryce.