Chapter Fifteen
Thorne
For one daft second, I consider turning round.
Just fucking off back to the fire and pretending I never wandered down here to pour my feelings out like some tragic sod in a romance film.
Then Wolfe hears me coming before I reach the water.
Well. Bollocks.
He glances over his shoulder, then turns back toward the ocean.
“Thought you’d gone home.”
“Was considering it.”
“What stopped you?”
I could give him any number of excuses—the drinks, the fire, the fact it’s his birthday and leaving early would make me look like a right prick.
Instead, I stop beside him and look out over the water.
“You.”
That gets the smallest smile out of him.
Still, he doesn’t move closer.
Doesn’t make this easy.
Fair enough.
I exhale hard and scrub a hand over the back of my neck.
“Look, I don’t know how to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This.”
I gesture between us.
He glances down. “Stand on a beach?”
“Don’t be a prick.”
“Aw, you’re nervous.”
“I ain’t nervous.”
“You’ve been digging a whole ass trench with your boot for like thirty seconds.”
I look down at the line cut through the wet sand.
“Sand started that shit.”
Wolfe laughs quietly and the sound loosens something in my chest, but only a little.
“I mean it,” I say. “I don’t know how to say any of this without sounding like a complete fucking idiot.”
“Okay, then say it badly.”
“Oh is that your wise advice?”
“Pretty much.”
“Brilliant.” I rub the back of my neck. “You know what, you and Echo both reckon you’re dead helpful, but your advice is mostly bollocks.”
Wolfe smirks. “You’re stalling.”
I glance over at him. “I’m building up to it, mate.”
“You’ve been building up to it for months.”
“See, this is why I don’t talk to you.”
“Sure.”
He looks far too relaxed for someone currently making my head a complete mess. Blue swim shorts, white beach shirt hanging open, tattoos cutting across his chest and stomach. Pieces of his Lakota lineage inked into his skin like they’ve always belonged there.
The wind carries salt, smoke from the fire, and that cedar scent that always clings to him.
Annoying, really.
Even more annoying that he looks at me like he’s got all night.
I scuff my foot through the wet sand. “I’ve spent most of my life thinking I knew what I was meant to want.”
Wolfe nods once. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I look out at the water. “Thought I knew what everyone expected. What I was supposed to be like. Then you came along and well, you fucked that right up.”
He lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re welcome.”
I look at him. “You’re a right cocky prick, you know that.”
“Maybe, but you like me.”
“Unfortunately.”
His smile softens, but he doesn’t push. Just stands there beside me, close enough that the edge of his shirt brushes my arm when the wind catches it.
Then he says something under his breath.
“?ha?tét’i?s.”
I glance over. “What’s that mean?”
“Have courage.”
I huff out a laugh. “You calling me a coward on your birthday?”
“No.” His shoulder bumps mine. “I’m saying some things are worth being brave for.”
That wipes the grin off my face.
He says it casually, still looking out at the water, like he hasn’t just reached into my chest and got hold of the exact thing I’ve been trying not to name.
We start walking without either of us saying anything about it, drifting farther down the beach until the sand turns cool and firm beneath our feet. The surf rolls in around our ankles, then pulls back again.
“Bit dramatic, innit?” I mutter.
Wolfe smiles. “You’re the one who came down here at sunset, on my birthday, to confess your feelings.”
“Was considering it,” I say, cutting him a look. “But you’re getting far too smug about this and not making it bloody easy, so maybe I won’t bother doing one after all.”
“Nah, don’t bottle it now. Keep going.”
Cocky bastard.
“Girls were easy,” I say, dragging my foot through the edge of the surf. “I could flirt, have a bit of fun, and no one expected it to mean anything after.”
My mouth’s gone dry, so I swallow and stare out at the water.
“This isn’t like that.”
Wolfe glances over. “Because I’m a man?”
“Because you’re you.”
That gets his full attention.
I finally look at him, and immediately wish I hadn’t. He’s watching me properly now, calm and open, while I feel like I’m one wrong word away from making a complete tit of myself.
“You’re not some random bloke I can forget once the night’s over,” I say. “You’re there the next morning. At the garage. On the track. In my bloody head every time I’m trying not to think about you.”
His jaw shifts, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“And yeah, part of it is because you’re a man.” I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I’m not going to stand here and pretend that doesn’t scare the shit out of me, because it does. I know what people expect. I know how quickly blokes can turn nasty when something makes them question themselves.”
Wolfe’s expression tightens. “You really think I’d let anyone make you feel small for this?”
“No, mate.”
“Then what are you scared of?”
I let out a short laugh, but there’s nothing funny in it. “Everything that comes after.”
“After what?”
“After I stop pretending none of this matters.”
His face softens, and I look away before it gets under my skin.
Bloody hell, he makes it difficult to stay defensive.
“If I admit I want you, then I’ve got to live with the fact that I do,” I say. “And not only for one night or because Echo was there. Not because I was pissed, confused, or caught up in the moment.”
“You don’t sound confused.”
“Because I’m not.”
The answer comes out so fast it catches both of us and Wolfe goes still.
The water rolls over our feet, cold against my ankles, and for a second all I can hear is the surf and my own pulse thudding like a fucking idiot.
I force myself to hold his gaze.
“I. Want. You.”
His eyes don’t leave mine.
“I’ve wanted you for longer than I’d ever willingly admit,” I continue, quieter now. “I’ve just been calling it everything else because I’m a stubborn bastard.”
His mouth twitches, but he doesn’t stop me as I drag in a breath and rub the back of my neck.
“I still want Echo and I still think girls are fit. That hasn’t changed. I just…” I glance at him. “I want you too, and I haven’t got a fucking clue what I’m meant to do with that.”
Wolfe nods like I haven’t just turned myself inside out in front of him. “You don’t have to know tonight.”
“Thanks, mate. That was bloody helpful.”
“I’m serious.” He nudges my shoulder with his. “You came down here. That’s something, you don’t have to figure it all out in one night.”
He looks at me, and the tightness in my chest eases a little bit more.
I step closer, enough that the wind stops cutting between us. “Yeah. I did. No Echo. No more excuses. Just me making a complete tit of myself.”
Wolfe holds my gaze. “So what now?”
My eyes drop to his mouth.
“Well, I’m hoping you still want me.”
Something in his face eases, his shoulders loosening as he holds my gaze. “I never stopped.”
“Even after the garage?” My voice comes out rougher than I mean it to.
“Even then.”
I look down at the water, jaw tight. “I was a right prick.”
“You were just scared.”
I glance back at him. “Can be both, mate.”
Wolfe’s mouth pulls into a small smile. “Yeah, but I don’t blame you.”
My eyes drop to his lips, then lift again.
I step closer.
Wolfe closes the distance too, slow and steady, until his breath is warm against my mouth and the surf is washing around our ankles.
For a second, neither of us says anything.
Then I mutter, “Ah, fuck it,” fist the front of his shirt, and pull him in.
The kiss lands hard, all the tension between us finally breaking loose.
Wolfe lets me lead for barely a second before his hand closes around the side of my neck and he kisses me back, firm and certain, his thumb pressing beneath my jaw.
I drag him closer, my other hand gripping his side as his breathing turns rough against my mouth.
When we finally pull apart, neither of us goes far.
His forehead rests against mine, lips still brushing mine when he speaks.
“There you are,” he murmurs.
“Don’t get fucking smug.”
“Kinda late for that.”
“Bloody hell,”
I kiss him again just to shut him up, and it turns rough almost straight away.
His hand tightens at my waist as mine slip beneath his shirt, palms meeting warm skin. Wolfe tenses under my touch, and the reaction goes straight through me.
“Fuck” I breathe.
I drag my nails lightly down his stomach, watching his jaw tighten.
“Careful, Thorne.”
The warning in his voice only makes me push closer. “Or what?”
His hand closes around my hip and pulls me flush against him. “Keep going and find out.”
I should take the piss. Say something smart enough to hide how badly I want him.
Instead, I hold his gaze and murmur, “Maybe that’s the point.”
Whatever control he was hanging onto gives way. Wolfe kisses me hard enough to knock me back a step, his arm catching around my waist before I can lose my footing.
He walks me farther down the beach, away from the fire and toward the darker line of palms near the shore.
My back meets the rough trunk of one, and then he’s braced against me, mouth moving along my jaw and down my throat. My head tips back before I can stop it, every inch of me wound tight beneath his hands.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says against my skin.
“It isn’t.”
“If you need me to stop—”
“I’ll tell you.”
His hand slides up to my chin, turning my face back toward his. “Good.”
The praise goes straight through me, and of course the smug bastard notices.
His mouth curves. “Mmm, you like that.”
“Like what?”
“You know exactly what.”
“Don’t start, mate.”
“Want to hear you say it.”
I fist the front of his shirt and drag him closer. “You always this bloody annoying when someone’s trying to let you have your way with them?”
“Only when they’ve spent months pretending they don’t want it.” He smirks.
I swallow as his thumb drags slowly over my bottom lip.
“You don’t get to come looking for me, kiss me like that, then hide behind sarcasm when I tell you what I see.”
“And what do you see?”
“I see a man who’s finally done running from what he wants.”