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“You are,” he says, a twinge of his frustration bubbling to the surface. “And instead of saying what’s on your mind, you’re running again.”
This makes me roll my eyes. “Aiden,” I groan. “I’m not running!” Looking past him, I spot a secluded area of beach with only a few people sitting on towels. “Look,” I say as I walk over to the edge of the pier and point. “See that spot over there? I’m going to sit there and finish reading my book, okay? I’m not running. I’ll literally be right there.”
He closes in behind me as he says, “Claire,” in a low voice that sends goosebumps down my arms, and I freeze. “As much as I appreciate the update on your future whereabouts, that’s not what I mean by running.” He steps away from me, and I turn to face him. Rubbing the back of his neck, he says, “I should have texted you back.” He glances at the restaurant behind us. “I should have been at the table with everyone when you got here.” When I don’t say anything he adds, “I’m sorry. You have every right to be pissed at me, but if you are, we should talk about it. Because trying to avoid whatever it is you’re feeling right now? That’s running.”
Having always been an actions speak louder than words type of person, I’m not sure what to make of his apology. He looks sincere, but trusting people hasn’t worked out well for me recently. I know I should tell him what I’m feeling, but something inside me shuts down, and instead, I hear myself say, “Nothing’s bothering me.”
Unimpressed by my answer, Aiden’s face hardens. “Really?” His jaw ticks once the word is out.
I look off to the side at a few people passing by because it feels easier than lying to him directly. “Yes, really.”
“Huh.” With a nod, he turns and walks away from me, and the same sense of panic I felt the other night grips me. The familiar feeling of an hourglass running out of sand fills me with each step he takes.
“Wait! Where are you going?” I ask as I start after him.
Aiden doesn’t stop. Instead, he points to the same area I had pointed to earlier and says, “I’m going to sit over there with you until you’re done reading your book or whatever, and then we’re going to talk.”
Hurrying to catch up, I reach out to try to stop him. “You can’t just watch me read, Aiden.”
He somehow manages to catch my hand in his, interlacing our fingers. “And you can’t strip down to your underwear in front of me and then act like you want nothing to do with me.” He looks over his shoulder with challenge brewing in those eyes. “You know, since nothing’s wrong.”
“Aiden!” I try to wiggle my hand free, but he only grips tighter. Bringing the back of my hand to his lips, he says, “If you’re going to keep breaking my rule, I’m going to break yours.” Kissing the back of my hand, he adds, “So fucking hard.”
And the way he says it makes my stomach do an uneasy flip. Forced to swallow before I speak next, I manage to get out, “That’s really not necessary.”
Looking back at me again, he gives me a smile that’s bound to make any girl melt. “But it’ll be fun.”
I’ve never seen this side of him.
He doesn’t let go of my hand until we reach the part of the beach I had pointed to from the pier. “Go ahead. Read your book.”
I let out a huff and try to ignore the fact that my hand feels empty without the warmth of his. “I’m not going to read while you sit here doing nothing.”
“Who said I’d be doing nothing?” he asks as he takes his shirt off and sits on the soft sand with his legs out in front of him. Staring out at the ocean, he says, “I’m on a beach in Florida. I’ll be just fine.”
My eyes rake down his body, taking in every muscle and every inch of his golden skin.
I shouldn’t stare at him.
But I can’t seem to tear my eyes away.
I never thought Aiden Lewis would be the type of guy to work out, but I’m starting to think he’s definitely doing something. “Do you work out?” I ask without thinking.
The corner of Aiden’s mouth twitches, and he squints up at me. “Are you checking me out?”
My face turns hot. “What? No. I didn’t mean—I was just assuming.” Taking a hard seat next to him, I add, “Forget it,” and hate how pathetic I sound.
A low laugh escapes him. “Read your book, Claire.”
“I will,” I snap back. “That’s what I came here to do.” Shifting myself away from him so that he’s out of my line of sight, I open my book where I left off.
He doesn’t say anything else.
I don’t say anything either, but even though I can’t see him, I can still feel him when he’s this close to me. There’s no way I can focus on the book like this. We both sit in silence for just about as long as I can handle, him staring at the ocean and me staring down at the page.
Finally, he asks, “How’s the book?”
“Good.” I clear my throat. “It’s really good.”
