I press my palms against the limestone rock formation, head hanging forward as I fight to pull air into my lungs. And then, I scream. Endlessly.
You’re fucking lonely.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
Damn him. Damn me.
Because the worst part? He’s right.
A sudden pressure on my shoulder surprises me and I execute a quick jiu-jitsu throw, sending Deep Diver tumbling over my shoulder. He hits the sand with a muted thud.
“Jesus, Yosh.” He groans, unzipping his wetsuit as he rubs at his lower back.
“Save that shit for the bedroom, will you?”
My heart’s pounding in my ears. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” I offer him my hand.
“I didn’t hear you coming.”
He grins as he lets me help him up. “Just got out of the water and saw you… sort of losing your shit? Wanted to check if you’re okay. Clearly, you’re not.” His eyes rake over me.
“Rough day at the office?”
“Something like that,” I mutter, still reeling from flashes of Tom McKenna hunting me. My pulse won’t settle.
“Did I hurt you?”
He shrugs. “Nah, not really, babe. Maybe you should come over tonight and inspect my back more thoroughly.” He tosses me a wicked grin. “I'd like for you to drag me into the riptide afterwards.”
“Sounds dangerous,” I tease, deliberately patting his lower back, maybe a little lower than I need to. His spine feels perfectly molded to fit my palm.
I slide my hand over the slick material of his wetsuit before letting go.
“Your back’s fine,” I say, trying not to dwell on how good his peachy ass felt under my fingers.
Then I notice the waterproof duffel bag half-buried in the sand.
“Diving for pirate gold?”
Deep Diver lifts his index finger to his lips. “Something like that,” he whispers.
That’s my cue not to ask any further questions. To be honest, I don’t want to know.
“So… wrestling at my place tonight?” he offers again, trying to sound casual rather than needy.
“I can’t. I have the night shift. And… I get the feeling this thing between us is turning into something more than casual, and I’m not really down for that. Not right now.”
He snorts. “Oh, so this is an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ thing?”
I let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. Kind of. I’m sorry…”
“I get it. Well, you know where to find the spare key to my front door. Just in case you ever feel like… letting me in through the back.”
I laugh as I shake my head.
If I speak now, I’ll take back every word I just said and end up knocking on his door tonight like the sex-needy person I know I am.
But it doesn’t feel right. I don’t want Deep Diver, and I hate that Tom McKenna ambushed me with that truth. I don’t let anyone in. So it’s not fair to keep the guy in front of me hanging on this thin line of hope for something more. He deserves better than being available for whenever I need him.
