Chapter 11
11
Cortney
We board the catamaran with about twelve others and two guides. For the first hour, we cruise around stunning turquoise waters while drinks are served and music plays through the speakers. Without asking, I tuck myself against Spencer’s side. Cuddling is a perfectly normal activity for friends with benefits, right?
Because that’s what we are now. Friends. I’m officially friends again with Spencer Stone.
We relax into our new positions. His arm drapes lazily over my shoulders, and his rough fingertips draw imaginary shapes across my bare skin.
Both familiar and brand new, his touch ignites fluttering in my stomach. The sensual action will necessitate a dip in the ocean soon before the growing wet patch on my bikini bottoms becomes visible.
I look over at Spencer in his long-sleeved shirt to cover his burns. He told me the fabric is breathable, with UV protection and a cooling mechanism. By the way he fans the collar away from his neck, it doesn’t appear to be enough.
The sun beats down from overhead in a cloudless sky. We’re already seated beneath the shade of the upper deck, but it’s still hot for a couple of Midwesterners.
“Are you okay?” I pull back with a concerned brow.
“I’m just a little warm.”
The words provoke me to create more distance between us.
“What can I do?”
“For starters, you can get that ass back over here,” he growls. “I didn’t say I wanted you to leave.”
I bite my lip with indecision. Before I can respond, he speaks again.
“I’ll feel cooler when we get into the water.”
I survey the other guests milling about before leaning closer. “Have you thought of taking it off? I have extra sunscreen. We can load you up to keep your skin protected from the sun.”
Averting his gaze, he clenches his jaw. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
“It’s perfectly reasonable.” The distance closes as I scoot closer. “Nobody knows you here, and I think you’ll be more comfortable.”
“The heat is preferable,” he mutters.
“Spencer—”
“It isn’t pretty, Cort. ” My name comes out with the callousness of a curse word.
“I think you’re beautiful.” I close my eyes briefly and grimace. “Handsome. I mean handsome. If you’re worried about what I’ll think, I can tell you right now that scars or no scars, I’m still going to be insanely attracted to you.”
The admission freezes the air between us.
He can’t honestly be surprised to hear I find him attractive. Not after all we’ve done together the last couple of days.
I forge on. “You should also know I’m the only person whose opinion matters on this boat.”
“They’re ugly.”
“It’s not nice to call other people ugly, Spencer. I know your mom taught you better than that.”
The corner of his mouth twitches. “I meant the scars, Kitten.”
I cup the healing side of his face. His long, blunt lashes flutter as if he’s fighting against closing his eyes. Instead, he leans into my careful touch.
“Nothing about you is ugly to me.”
My thumb strokes along the broken, jagged lines of damaged skin across his cheek. A shudder ripples through him.
The acquiescence I’m looking for is a rusty nod.
Without breaking our connection, he reaches behind his neck and pulls the collar of his shirt over his head.
I’d find it fucking hot if this wasn’t such a monumental moment. As much as I want to drink in every ridge of his cut torso, there’s plenty of time to do that later. For now, I muster up as much sincerity as I can and hold our connection.
We break contact only as long as it takes him to drag the fabric off and drop it into his lap.
The first few seconds, Spencer doesn’t even twitch. It’s as if he’s waiting for the whispers and stares.
All the while, I stroke his cheek.
“Better?”
“Do—” His voice breaks gruffly on the word. He clears his throat and tries again. “Do you want to see them?”
“Do you want to show me?”
Another tight nod bobs his head.
I rise onto my knees on the bench seat beside him and drop my palms flat on my thighs.
He twists around and lifts his right arm, giving me a full, unimpeded picture of all the broken skin.
Oh, Spencer.
My heart shatters for the boy I first fell in love with all those years ago.
The mismatched pink and red tones from his cheek carry down his neck, over his shoulder, and down his arm to his wrist. Half his back is also covered, slashing in jagged lines across his ribs.
I want to cry. I fight against tears at all the damage. Not because it’s ugly. No, I want to cry for the pain he’s endured. The accident had to be excruciating, and the healing process after would have prolonged that pain.
“It was a flash fire. They’re impossible to predict. One minute my best friend Lucas and I were standing there bullshitting with one another like usual, and the next, it was nothing but searing heat and bright light. The emergency system kicked in, and everyone jumped into action. But Lucas… he was too close to the blast.”
Involuntary muscles jump the second my fingertips ghost carefully across his skin.
“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I’m sorry about your friend.”
“He was a good guy. You would have liked him.”
“What was he like?”
Letting me explore, he relaxes into the gentle touch.
“He would have treated you like a little sister even though he was a few years younger than us. He was sarcastic, and his wit was unmatched. If he didn’t like someone, he let them know it, but if he liked you, that was it. He was fiercely loyal, and you better pray you don’t fuck that up because second chances were hard to come by.”
“He sounds like an amazing guy.”
“One of the best. We talked about coming to Fairview Valley someday.” He glances out at the water rippling beside us. “I wanted to make amends. He was never one to back down from a fistfight, so he was eager to accompany me. But he died before I got that chance.”
“You’re back now. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you made it.”
“Thanks.” He slips his hand around mine where it rests on my thigh. He thumbs the ring on my finger. “I mean that.”
My fingers squeeze around his. “Anytime. Looks like we’re slowing down.”
“Are you ready to go find some fish?”
“Are you?”
Using his grip, he drags me fully into his lap. “I’d much rather view an aquarium, but since we’re already here, I’ll get into the water with you.”
My fingers slide into his hair, tipping his head back. I kiss my way from his cheek down his neck.
“I think you’ll enjoy it.”
When I lift my face, his attention narrows on my lips. My tongue teases its way across the glossy surface, wishing he’d break his rule for the last two days of this trip. Tomorrow is the final full day, and then we’re traveling home the next. Heavy sadness fills my heart.
“Cortney? Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” I flash a brief smile. “I’m fine. I got distracted thinking about going home.”
Spencer’s furrowed brow has me shaking off the lingering emotion. I’m not the only one carrying around heavy feelings, and he deserves to finish out this trip without me dragging us down.
Even though I’d love to feel his lips on mine again. To remember what it feels like to kiss him after so long.
It’s probably for the best. This fling is no strings, after all.
“Let’s go swim.”
I hop off his lap. I only make it two steps before his fingers close on my wrist.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m just sad this week is coming to an end.”
Spencer’s smile is soft. “Me too.”
I fight the inclination to reach out and touch him. Instead, I let myself soak in what I denied when he first took off his shirt.
Smooth, rounded hills of muscle pop out from his chest, covered by a light layer of dark curls that continue over his cut abs. As kids, Spencer always kept in shape. He was muscular but on the skinny side. The torso displayed before me now is all man. I don’t even see the scars. I’m too busy drinking in all the changes since I last saw his naked chest.
The other guests are already suiting up around the guide, listening to a last-minute safety reminder. Spencer puts his shirt back on to keep his skin protected from the overhead sun. We’re given snorkels, goggles, and flippers, and jump into the ocean with the rest of the group.
The clear waters are maybe only eight feet deep. Schools of yellow-and-black-striped fish swim around us. Spencer even swims down toward the sandy bottom to get a closer look at a red starfish. He gestures excitedly, making it hard for me not to laugh under the water.
The radiant smile as he surfaces is probably the most uninhibited expression I’ve seen on this trip. His genuine joy is infectious. I swim closer, slipping my arms around his neck as we float in the glittering waters.
“Having fun?”
“The only reason I’m smiling is so you have a pretty place to sit later.”
I roll my eyes to distract from the clench in my belly. “Liar.”
He gently pushes a wet strand of hair off my cheek. His hands settle on my waist. “Go ahead, Kitten.”
I bite my lip. Leaning closer, I brush my nose against his. “I told you so.”
His lips fasten to my neck, tongue laving the dewy skin.
I moan his name.
“Yes?” he husks in my ear.
“If you didn’t have your rule, we could be making out in the ocean right now.”
He shakes his head and playfully tips me until my hair dunks in the water. Blue eyes roam my face as he hovers above me. “You’re playing a dangerous game, beautiful.”
“I know.”
“You better stop before I find a way to fuck you here.”
We tread water until we’re nothing but two heads bobbing above the surface.
“Spencer.” I gasp over his name as his fingertips brush aside my bikini top to rub my nipple. “This isn’t a good idea.”
“Why not?”
He pinches and pulls, the rhythmic tugging sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my clit.
“Because everyone here is looking beneath the water.”
A rumbling growl sounds from his throat as he hastily pulls my top back into place.
“Forgot about that.”
I laugh and run my fingers through his wet hair. The saturated strands nearly match my bottled black.
The natural feel of our time together strikes me. Somehow, we managed to slip straight back into Cort and Spence. The years we missed out on sit like a big black void, while the future is a blank white slate.
What’s going to happen in two days when we disembark our plane in Minneapolis? Are we going to go our separate ways, never to see each other except for the casual run-in? Is he going to leave town, possibly without another goodbye?
The unknown fills me with dread.
I wish we had more time.