Chapter 3 One Shot #2
“I think we kind of fell into being engaged,” Tasha says, squeezing my hand and finally addressing the elephant and his sidepiece-now-fiancé.
“Rather than actually making a conscious decision that we wanted to spend our lives together, we followed our families’ expectations.
After the initial hurt and humiliation faded, I realized Connor stopped us from becoming a first marriage mistake. ”
“And you didn’t have someone to bring as a date to his wedding?” Not that I haven’t searched the seating chart or bungalow allocations for a hint.
She shakes her head.
“Really? But it’s been two years.”
“I know.” She shrugs and looks at me like I’ve challenged her to justify a thesis. “But since you never asked me to be your date, who would I ask? His cousin?”
I grin. “Possibly. But I’m more his type than you are.”
She rolls her eyes. “Are you saying this as a friend or … you know, something else?”
“That would depend, do you want me to be … something else?”
Her gaze drops to my mouth. I’m staring at hers. There are two empty shot glasses in front of us, and another two in front of Tasha. As much as I need sober Tasha to make the next decision, I’m not ready to call it a night.
“I understand there’s a beautiful beach a short walk away.”
“And?” she says slowly, elbow on bar and head in her palm. She is so adorable with smattering of freckles and finger brushed hair a welcome contrast to women who have their publicists hit me up for red carpet experiences.
“How about I take you on a romantic stroll? We walk until all we can hear is the ocean and our hearts beating.”
She raises an eyebrow. Too cheesy? Too bad. I power on, “And right at that point, we turn around and come back to civilization. Or we turn left and head up to the bungalows.”
“You want me to walk with you?” There’s that cute smile again. “What do I get out of it.”
“I can protect you from dingos.”
“You’re confusing Lizard Island with K’gari Island.”
“I can protect you from drop bears.” Not that I think there are koalas on Lizard Island either.
“There are no overhanging trees along the beach.”
“Then, what do you want.”
“I want one kiss.” She blinks as if shocked at her words. I blame it on the drinks.
“You think you’re ready to kiss me?” I banter back. I’m sure as hell not gonna kiss Tasha until she’s able to remember it until her dying day. But there’s no harm in flirting.
“Ego much?”
“At the end of one kiss,” I continue as she didn’t interrupt, “you’ll know if I’m your type and if you want to risk falling in love.”
“What if at the end of the kiss, you’re the one who changes their mind?” I hear the fear. “You never noticed me, before. What if I think the kiss is the beginning, and you see it as a mistake?”
“Tasha?” I pull her hand up, brushing her knuckles with my lips before stroking down her cheek. “I hate to say you’re wrong, but you are deadass wrong. I noticed you before you knew my name. I see you. I’ve always seen you. You’re the one who never saw me.”
“So, that walk?”
Zane will understand, won’t he?
Still, they say if you want to be unforgettable, to walk away and leave them wanting more.
I know what I want and tonight cemented all the reasons I want Natasha Forrest to be my partner in life.
Unless, of course, she isn’t over her ex.
Unless, of course, she isn’t prepared to try long distance while I’m in New Zealand.
Maybe, I can rework my arrangement with Zane and do some of the future expansion remotely.
It’s a lot to give up, but I’d do it for Natasha, as long as I know she can see me as her future and not just a revenge hookup to piss off her ex and cousin.
Which is why walking away from Tasha, leaving her unkissed lips parted and longing, her eyes soft but confused, and closing the door to her bungalow with her inside and me outside is one of the hardest things I’ve done in a long-ass time.
Her bungalow is only a three-minute walk from mine. Yes, I timed it door to door. I could go back, knock once and see what happens. But our future is too important to ruin by rushing our first kiss.
The look on her face said she was sure I was going to kiss her. I almost gave in except I want more than a good night kiss. I want a welcome to our future kiss. I want to spoon her all night and bring her breakfast in bed tomorrow.
Since it’s not her fault I’m leaving the country next week and need her to make decisions about us in record time, I left her wanting more.
Tomorrow we’ll have a conversation. By the time our friends arrive ready to get the happy couple legally wed, I’ll know whether I’m having an awkward conversation with Zane.
But tonight? My body may never forgive me.
My phone buzzes before I reach my bungalow.
I consider ignoring it. The guys are all getting back from the bachelor week away—probably sunburned, hungover, and trying to pretend we’re still eighteen instead of grown men who should know better.
But there’s a chance it could be Tasha.
I check. Twenty-seven unread messages in the GmansChat.
And a text that makes me grin like a teenage boy.
Tasha: You promised me something and didn’t deliver.
She wants to play this game? Game on.
Me: Context?
Tasha: That’s not funny.
Me: Context?
The typing dots appear. Stop. Appear again. Stop.
I open all the windows in my bungalow, let the sea air in, and pour myself a drink. Whisky. A conversation with Tasha deserves the good stuff.
Me: Context or nude pics. You decide.
The dots start again. Stop.
Tasha: You’re impossible.
Me: For other women. For you, I prefer to think of myself as hard to get.
Ten minutes pass.
Then another message.
Tasha: Why am I always in the friend zone?
Me: To be fair, I did ask for nude pics. I don’t ask all my friends for nude pics.
Tasha: It’s been a long time.
Me: Since you walked along the beach.
Tasha: Since someone walked me to my front door.
I stare at the screen. I feel stone cold sober. Is she? Or will she regret the walk and block my number tomorrow? It’s easy to be brave via text.
Tasha: Would you like to do it again?
I smile. End while she wants to keep talking. Hopefully, Tasha will be brave enough to go at least one step further tomorrow.
Me: Good night, Tasha. Dream of me.
I change her number to, Future Mrs. Castillo.
Is it a joke?
Who knows. But tomorrow, I’m planning on doing more than just kiss.