Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
KEATON
I f Aslan doesn’t want to buy Monti Media, I don’t know what I will do with my life.
I can’t continue living in San Francisco, a place where I’m reminded that I’m alone.
He has a big family. They look after each other.
I would give anything to have an overbearing mother and annoying brothers who want to live close to me.
He’s never been rejected or neglected by his parents.
“So, what are we doing today?” I ask, trying to untangle myself from his hold. Working was a lot safer for me than putting on a swimsuit and pretending to be with Aslan.
“I recall you needed all the fruity drinks in paradise. Why don’t you change, and we can join my brothers downstairs?”
“Is there any way to convince you to stay in the room until tomorrow?”
He grins. “Sure, we can play strip poker.”
“Ha, in your dreams.”
“Then change, and let’s go downstairs.”
I sigh and go to my luggage to search for my swimsuits. The first bikini I pull out has a skimpy G-string, and the top is a demi-cup. My boobs will be floating out of the suit when I get in the pool. I toss it on the floor, terrified of the wardrobe-malfunction hazard.
“Is there something wrong?” Aslan says, picking up the white bikini.
“They forgot to add material to that suit.”
“Are you sure?” he says, studying it.
“One hundred percent.”
“Why don’t you try it on? You might be exaggerating.”
I snatch the G-string. “If I’m wearing one of these, you’ll be wearing one too.”
He barks out a laugh. “You have one in there for me?”
“No, but I can find a pair of scissors and make one from your swim trunks.”
“Fine, don’t wear this. What else do you have in there?”
I wish I knew. Apparently, his mother’s shopper took a lot of liberties. I go through the luggage and find La Perla lingerie. It’s beautiful, but I don’t plan on wearing any of that.
“We can skip going to the pool,” he offers.
I look at him, almost relieved. “Really.”
“Sure. We’ll stay in the room all day, playing dress-up. You wear all those pretty outfits, and I’ll take them off.”
I give him an unamused glare. “Nope.”
“It’ll be so much fun.”
I let myself imagine us being together on a real vacation as a couple.
After a long day lying on the beach, I picture him stripping me down slowly, seductively.
There’s no denying that my body is buzzing with excitement.
Fantasizing about us is confusing and terrifying.
I want it. I want him to undress me, kiss me with desperation, and bury himself deep inside me.
But at what cost? I can’t hand him my heart.
He’ll just toss it into the nearest dumpster.
It’s time to divert his attention. “Are you flirting with me, Spearman?”
“No. I’m proposing a new game. I know how much you like to win.”
“What will I win?”
He wiggles his eyebrows. “A lot of pleasure.”
“No sex,” I remind him sweetly. “We have a signed agreement.”
“We could amend the contract.”
“No sex,” I repeat and sigh when I finally find a tankini that pairs with a decent pair of bikini bottoms. If necessary, I’ll be washing this every night and drying it too. There’s no way I will be wearing anything that makes me show that much skin.
I head to the bathroom to take a quick shower and change into my swimsuit. I peer at myself in the full-size mirror, and I like how the bottom makes my curvy ass look amazing. When I come out, I regret not grabbing a towel to cover myself up. Aslan is gawking at me.
“Didn’t your mom tell you not to stare at people?” I say, searching for a cover-up. There has to be one in my luggage. I remember them talking about them and asking if I liked dress-like or just a skirt. I find a pink crochet cover-up. When I turn around, I realize Aslan is taking a shower.
I take a moment to breathe. The tension in the room is increasing. I’m between turned on and scared.
Scared.
Excited.
Nervous.
The longer Aslan takes inside the shower, the more anxious I become.
What’s taking him so long? Should I leave? Is he avoiding me? I’ve never taken that long in the bathroom. When he finally comes out, he’s wearing a dark t-shirt and his trunks.
“You took your sweet time,” I tease him.
He raises his eyebrow at me. “I had to take care of myself if I’m going to be around you all day.”
“What does that mean?”
He shakes his head as if saying, I-can’t-believe-you-don’t-understand.
“Aslan?”
“It’ll be embarrassing to walk around all day with a hard-on in front of my family. It’s hard enough when we’re in the office, but here…it’s not exactly family-friendly.”
My eyes almost bulge. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. You’re beautiful and wearing almost no clothes…well, it’s hard not to notice—no pun intended.”
Is he serious? I stare at him. I’m blushing so hard, I’m probably glowing.
“You can breathe,” he says, but I can’t. “Keat, are you okay?”
I move my head slightly, trying to say no, but I’m frozen. How am I supposed to respond to his confession?
He takes a few strides, standing right in front of me.
“Are you going to stay here all day?” That deep voice resonates through my entire body.
“I think you’re bothered with my honesty, which blows my mind because that’s one thing you like about people.
You don’t want to talk about it, that’s okay.
I know I’m not the only one feeling attracted to the other. ”
“You’re alone in that department,” I lie.
“Really?” There’s no inflection in his tone, but when I flick my gaze, I find his, challenging me to continue lying. “Every time we kiss, you say something completely different.”
“This can’t happen, Aslan.”
“Give me one good reason why we shouldn’t act on it, and if I find that it’s compelling, I’ll drop it.”
“We already discussed it.”
“Let me tell you what we discussed last week—before you ran away.”
“I didn’t?—”
“Stop lying to me, Keaton. If you looked at you when you’re lying, you wouldn’t do it ever again.”
“What does that mean?”
His gaze assesses mine. “Your cheeks darken, your eyes scan the room, and you start fidgeting with your hands.”
I suck on my lip. “So apparently, I have a tell.”
“Yep. What would you like to discuss first? The reason why you ran away or why you don’t want to discuss our sexual attraction?”
“Are you always this direct?”
“You know I am. Why are you surprised?”
I sigh. “Once we cross it, the line is going to get weird. I’ll fall in love with you. You’ll get tired of me and…” I don’t even know what to say. “Leaving for Arizona seemed a lot easier. I thought we’d cool down, and things would go back to normal.”
“Why would I get tired of you?”
“It’s what you do with all the women you sleep with,” I remind him. “Lulu has to physically remove them from the lobby when they start stalking you because they thought things were going in a different direction.”
“They were one-night stands. I never intended for them to think there could be more, and I am sorry that this makes you think I’d never take you seriously. You’re the constant in my life. Of course, I don’t want to lose you, but I also want to be with you.”
I stare at him dumbfounded. “It won’t work.”
“We can try it.”
“I just told you how people get bored of me and leave. This, whatever relationship we currently have, isn’t something I want to lose.”
“Yet, you’re ready to jump on the next plane and leave me.”
“It’s not about you.”
He takes a step back. “Sorry, I don’t want to pressure you.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
“But don’t close yourself off to the possibilities.”
“Says the guy who hasn’t had a relationship in fourteen years. That’s a little hypocritical.”
“There are a few reasons why I didn’t look for a relationship before.”
I cross my arms. “I can’t wait to hear them.”
He shows me his index finger. “I was too busy raising my teenage siblings, figuring out how to run the company, and only meeting women who would confirm they were only after my money. It wasn’t until I began to interact with you that I got over what happened with Margie.
I was holding onto it to avoid real relationships. ”
“Why me?”
He moves forward again, slides his arm around my waist, and pulls me gently against him.
He bends his head toward mine. I want to melt into him, even more so when he says, “Because I like who you are and how you make me feel when you’re around.
I find you interesting, and I can spend hours talking to you—or just working in silence.
“Your presence comforts me in a way nothing else can. I’m calm when you’re around, no matter how bad things are. All I want is to be next to you. You have a way of seeing inside me, and you accept me. You don’t try to change me.”
He kisses me slowly, gently. It’s different than all the other times, yet this feels familiar. He feels safe.
But can this be sustainable?