Chapter 4
“Wow, you must be losing your touch.”
I turn to find Eli standing beside me, board tucked under his arm and a huge grin on his face. “What?”
He laughs, tipping his head in the direction of Quinn, my so-called new friend. “Couldn’t seal the deal? You must be losing your touch.”
I jab an elbow into his ribs. “Fuck off. For your information, she’s meeting me for lunch, so I most definitely haven’t lost my touch.”
Eli bursts out laughing, his head falling back as he says, “Fucking hell, not only have you lost your touch, but you’ve totally been friend-zoned too.”
“Again, fuck off,” I say as I turn and head back into the surf, trying to ignore the fact that he might actually be right.
“I mean, lunch,” Eli says mockingly, still laughing as he follows me in, the two of us lying on our boards and paddling out. “With the guy who doesn’t date and definitely doesn’t do relationships,” he adds, grinning. “I’d say that is the very definition of losing it.”
I roll my eyes, shaking my head at him as we both ride up over a breaking wave. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I say. “Just wait. I’ll prove to you I haven’t.”
We both sit up on our boards, eyes scanning the incoming swell as we look for the perfect wave. “So, who was she?” Eli asks.
I turn to face him, a huge grin on my face as I say, “Tourist.”
A couple of hours later, I’m home, showered and dressed in a pair of shorts, an old Olsen Boards T-shirt, and a baseball cap.
“Good luck,” Eli calls as I walk past him sitting on the couch.
“Don’t need it,” I reply, flipping him off as I push open the screen door and head outside.
It’s only a couple of minutes’ walk to my favorite spot to eat, and as I put my sunglasses on, spinning my ball cap around so it’s on backward, I can’t help but wonder where Quinn is staying on this side of the island.
She said it wasn’t a hotel, but I know she’s a tourist visiting from New York, so she’s got to be renting somewhere.
Having spent my life here on this island, I pretty much know everyone and everything, especially on this side, and the only place I can think of right now is that hideous pink and green place down the road from Daisy’s bakery.
I make a mental note to ask Quinn about that just as I arrive at the BBQ shack down by the water. Quinn is sitting out at one of the high tables on the deck, staring out at the waves as she fiddles with her sunglasses, almost like she’s nervous or something.
Smiling, I pull mine off and hook them into the front of my T-shirt, nodding at the guys behind the counter as I make my way over to where she’s sitting, oblivious to my arrival.
“Hey, friend,” I whisper, my mouth at her ear and my body behind hers.
Quinn jumps, turning, her cheeks instantly flushing when she sees me. “H-hi,” she stammers.
With a grin, I give her a wink, my hand briefly resting on her shoulder before I move to the seat beside hers. “Wasn’t sure you were really going to show,” I tease, chuckling at her obvious nervousness as she fiddles with her sunglasses again, putting them on before immediately taking them off.
“I said I would,” she says, narrowing her brow at me.
My smile widens. “So why are you so nervous?”
“I’m not nervous,” she immediately says.
My gaze drops to her hands as I cover them with one of mine, not missing the jolt of electricity that shoots up my arm at the contact. “Yeah, you are,” I murmur, lifting my eyes to hers. “You don’t need to be nervous, Quinn.”
“I’m not,” she asserts, shaking her head a little as if to make a point.
“Okay,” I reply, winking again as I lift my hand from hers. “So, you hungry?”
“Starving,” she replies, and I laugh, Quinn immediately blushing.
“In that case,” I say, handing her a menu. “We’ve come to the right place because this here is the best brisket on the island.”
Quinn takes the laminated page, her eyes laser-focused on it as she swallows hard. I shouldn’t tease her like this, especially if I want a genuine shot at getting her into my bed, but it’s damn hard not to. Especially when she gets so easily flustered. And is so adorably fucking cute about it too.
After we’ve placed our order and I’ve paid, pushing Quinn’s offer of cash away as I ignore her protests to split the bill, we take our drinks back to the seats overlooking the ocean.
“So, how long are you here for?” I ask. Quinn casts a sideways glance at me that has me laughing as I ask, “What?”
She smiles, shaking her head as she says, “Nothing.”
“So,” I prompt, rolling my hand as if to indicate I’m still waiting for an answer.
She takes a deep breath, blowing it out slowly as she turns back to the water. “I’m not sure yet.”
I tilt my head, still watching her even though she isn’t looking at me. “You don’t have anything to get back to? A job? A boyfriend?” I ask, wondering if that’s why she turned me down this morning, because she isn’t actually available for any of the things I want to do with her.
Quinn huffs out a laugh, turning to face me as she asks, “If I had a boyfriend, would that stop you?”
“Stop me?” I ask, feigning confusion.
She laughs again, pointing a finger at me as she smirks and says, “The pickup lines, the flirting, the whole trying-so-hard thing.”
Now it’s me laughing. “I’m trying hard?”
She lifts a brow, her smirk deepening as she hits me with a look and says, “Really?”
Chuckling, I prop my elbow on the counter, turning sideways so I’m facing her. “Well, if you had a boyfriend, Quinn, the answer is no, I wouldn’t be trying anything. I’m not that kinda guy.”
Something flashes across her face at my words, a look I can’t decipher and one that I think she wishes I didn’t see as she turns back to the ocean. I don’t say anything more, just wait, my eyes roaming over her profile as she stares out at the waves.
She’s wearing a tight red tank and cut-off jean shorts, black flip-flops on her feet, and although to me she is still so obviously a tourist, a part of me can’t help but think how right she looks too, sitting here at one of my favorite places.
Eventually, she shakes her head in one slow movement as she murmurs, “No boyfriend.”
A slow smile curves my mouth as I lean closer, my arm sliding along the back of her chair, my mouth at her ear as I whisper, “Well, in that case, all bets are off. Friend.”
Our food arriving saves Quinn from having to respond to my comment, but it’s better that way. At least that’s what I think until we start to eat.
The brisket here is fucking good, but so is the corn and the fries and the BBQ sauce-covered ribs. I’d ordered some of everything, and as I sit here watching Quinn eat, I’m struggling to remember how to chew and swallow my own food.
Because every time she licks some sauce off her fingers, my dick gets hard.
And she licks her fingers a lot.
Which means my dick is really fucking hard by the time we finish eating.
And all I can think about is licking her. Everywhere.
I’ve never had to work this fucking hard for a woman’s attention before, and even though she said yes to lunch with me, I’m starting to think she really meant it when she said no to me on the beach earlier when it comes to me and her and something more.
And that me suggesting we just be friends was a really stupid idea because she’s going to hold me to that, no matter how hard I try for something more.
I’m not sure I’ve ever been friends with a woman I want to fuck before. I’m not sure I can, especially when all I can think about is getting Quinn naked and licking every single inch of her until she’s screaming my name and forgetting all about the bullshit friends thing.
“What do you think?” I ask as she pushes her plate away, letting out a groan that just about undoes me.
“So good,” she says, sinking back into her chair, her hands moving to rest on her stomach. “Not sure I need to eat for a week.”
Chuckling, I lean across, my thumb swiping at a blob of sauce on the corner of her mouth. “There are ways we can work it off, you know,” I whisper, sucking the sauce off the end of my thumb, smiling as Quinn’s eyes widen in surprise. “Get that appetite back.”
She huffs out a laugh, shaking her head as she says, “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”
I raise a brow, hitting her with a smirk as I say, “It’s working though, isn’t it?”
Quinn purses her lips, crossing her arms over her chest in a move that I am sure is supposed to make her look serious, but only serves to emphasize those gorgeous tits of hers.
“I don’t know,” she says, her head tilting to the side.
“You don’t know,” I repeat, trailing a finger slowly down her arm from her shoulder to her elbow. “That’s at least more promising than an outright no.”
I run my finger down her arm again, not missing the goosebumps that spring up on her skin. Considering the effect this tiny touch is having on me, my already hard dick going to full-on raging boner the second my finger touched her skin, I’m glad to see I’m not the only one affected by this.
Whatever this is.
“Maybe,” she says, turning back to the ocean, her bottom lip between her teeth, almost as though she’s fighting a smile.
Chuckling, I lean closer, shuffling my chair toward hers so she’s practically sitting between my legs. “I think definitely,” I whisper, tucking her hair behind her ear. “And I think you like it, too.”
She smacks her lips together, smiling a little even though she isn’t looking at me. “Is that so?” she asks.
“Uh huh,” I reply, my finger once again trailing down her arm. “I see you, Quinn.”
She turns at that, her eyes locking with mine, searching, staring, almost like she’s looking right inside my head and seeing every single thing I’m thinking about right now.
How much I want her.
Want to taste her, fuck her, mark her.
How I want to know what she looks like when I make her come.
How she sounds and how she feels, clenching around me.
And most of all, how I never think like this. How she’s the first woman I’ve ever met to drive me this spectacularly crazy without even touching me.
Her eyes suddenly drop to my mouth, and in an instant, all I can think about is kissing her. Of pulling that bottom lip of hers between my teeth as I kiss her and kiss her and kiss her until she is begging me not to stop.
“Anything else, Kai?”
The sound of Helen, our server and a chick I went to high school with, snaps me back to reality. And when I turn to her, she’s smiling at me, probably because she knows exactly what this is.
Me, a tourist and quick fuck.
“Ah, yeah, I think we’re good, right, Quinn?” I ask, turning back to her.
Quinn blinks quickly, glancing at Helen, who is standing beside us as she nods. “Yeah, we’re good, thanks.”
Helen reaches between us to clear our plates, and I don’t miss the way her tits brush against my arm when she does.
I don’t know what she’s playing at because she and I have never been a thing.
Sure, we might have hooked up once or twice back in high school, but that was years ago, and it was never anything more than that.
Last I heard, she had a boyfriend anyway.
“Thanks,” I say, giving her a quick nod as I turn back to Quinn. “So, you wanna hang out, maybe come to this bar—”
“I can’t,” she says, cutting me off as she slides off her stool, which is now positioned between us. “Thanks, umm, thanks for lunch. I should...I need to go.”
“Quinn, wait,” I call, reaching for her as she turns to leave.
She’s quick, though, practically running to the door and disappearing before I’ve even stood. And when I step outside, she’s nowhere to be seen, practically disappearing into thin air.
“Fuck,” I mutter, lifting my cap as I shove a hand through my hair before replacing it.
What the hell was that about?