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"Dinner?"
"I have money now. You don't. I'll buy."
I chew on my lip.
"You can pay me back after Mal pays you for working on our books if it will make you feel better."
It will. But I'm not sure I believe that he'll accept my money.
He smiles as he extends his hand. "We can get tacos for dinner."
The man knows my weakness.
I shake. "You have a deal."
Chapter Thirteen
Violet
Every wall of the swim shop is adorned with candy-colored bathing suits. I try to pour my attention into a rack of white bikini separates but it's difficult to think anything but I'm getting half-naked with Ethan.
He's sitting in the turquoise armchair placed across from the dressing room. He looks from his phone screen to me and he raises a brow. It's a dare. A challenge.
Okay. We're going swimming. Something like that. I love swimming and I certainly wouldn't mind a nice bikini—the one buried in my drawer
in New York is many years old. I certainly wouldn't mind Ethan's jaw dropping as he takes me in. Or his cock hardening as he pins me to the wall and peels off my swimsuit.
I grab a few bikinis in solid shades and a few fun patterns and I step into a dressing stall. It's easier to think without Ethan in my eyeline.
I want him, I do. But I'm not sure how I want him—as a friend, as a fling, as a fuck buddy, as a boyfriend, as the one person who makes me feel whole? At the moment, the only correct answer is all of the above.
I try to clear my head as I try on the first swimsuit. At the moment, Ethan and I are friends who flirt. That works for me. In fact, I'm really enjoying it. And with the way he's smiling as he flirts back—that must work for him too.
I'll take this one step at a time.
There are benefits to a flirty friendship. Namely the way he's going to sigh with desire when he sees me in a bikini. I'm not exactly thin, but martial arts keeps me in good shape. I have a nice figure.
Even so, I do not look hot in this swimsuit. The bottom is cut too high and it's too tight on my round hips. The white is too plain. The black is too drab.
The turquoise suit is promising. The bra-style top is particularly flattering to my bust. The bottoms sit low on my hips and cover just enough of my butt. I spin a few times. It's skimpy, yes, but it's cute too. And I know turquoise is a good color on me. Before she accepted that her only daughter was never going to grow out of her goth style, Mom was always trying to get me to wear less black and more color.
Still, I need to make sure it looks good in the full-length mirrors. I cultivate all the I don't care what Ethan thinks of me in a bikini I can (almost none) and step into the main room.
My eyes catch his immediately. I try to play coy as I turn to the mirror and check out my reflection, but I can feel his gaze passing over me. His expression is hungry and determined.
"Fuck, Vi. Any way I can convince you to wear that everywhere?" He pushes himself to his feet.
I spin around so we're face to face. "I'm sure you can think of something."
He takes a step towards me. Then another. Another. Then he's close enough to touch me.
"Here." His fingers skim my shoulder. He adjusts my strap. Then the other. Then his eyes are on mine. "Better?"
"Yes, thank you." I look up at him. Right now, I want to kiss him. I don't care about anything that happens after I kiss him, only about how his lips will feel against mine.
He drags his fingertips up my shoulder and over my neck. "You getting that one?"
This is moving too fast. I take a step backwards. "Yeah. Don't you need a suit?"
