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Footsteps swished through the sand. Summer appeared next to me.
“We should talk,” she said. “About earlier.”
“What about Emilia?”
“She’s preoccupied.”
“How so?”
“Her tongue’s down Scott’s throat,” Summer replied, a hint of mirth in her tone. “Do you want to go for another walk?”
“Only if you promise not to jump my bones this time.”
“I mean, really?”
I laughed, and we set off across the sand. Summer played with her clutch, opening and snapping it shut. I tucked my hands into my pockets, opting to keep them hidden away. If they were out, I might decide to use them in ways both pleasurable and disastrous.
We stopped a good distance away, under the trees.
“So,” I said.
“So,” she echoed.
“That kiss blew my fucking mind.”
She sucked in a breath. “That’s not what I meant by talk about it. We’re supposed to hate each other, Matt. You took my virginity and left.”
“You left me before I left town,” I replied evenly. “It was practically a mutual decision.”
“I did that because I was afraid, and I hardly expected you’d disappear the next friggin’ day.”
“What was I supposed to do?” I asked, my hands out of my pockets now. I approached her. She didn’t back down. “Stick around and wait for you to come to your senses?”
“There is no coming to my senses with this,” she said. “It’s wrong. We’re wrong to even have touched or done anything remotely intimate.”
“You’re shouting.”
“I’m angry.”
“Why?”
“Because this is even happening,” she said, and her lips parted, they quivered, they begged to be kissed again. “Because I don’t want to want you, but you make me—”
I dragged her into my arms and kissed her before she could get anything emotional out of those delicious lips. The kiss seared, it streaked through my core, and I was instantly hard. We crashed against one of the trees, and my fingers stroked her cheeks, her throat, reached down and cupped her ass under her dress.
She lifted one leg and slung it around my waist, pulling on the front of my shirt, begging for more. She tasted sweet and cold, like winter’s breath.
Summer keened and moaned, grabbing me, wanting more.
“Christ, you’re amazing,” I growled and nipped her bottom lip.
She pushed back, and I immediately stepped away. “This is bad,” she whispered. “This is so, so bad. We can’t do this.” And then she darted off across the sand, dropping her silver clutch as she ran, like Cinderella.
Except she wasn’t a princess, she was a queen, and I was the dumbass who couldn’t get enough of her.
Chapter Seven
Summer
Crazy. Crazy. Crazy.
Why did it always end up this way? I hadn’t even had more than one drink tonight, but I’d wound up kissing Matt, again. And when I thought about it too hard, I wanted nothing more than to run back downstairs and do it again.
What was wrong with me?
The two of us could never be. We shouldn’t even talk. If Emilia found out, she’d be furious—not only would it ruin our family dynamic if we ended up together and then broke up, but this was her wedding week.
She’d planned it meticulously. Leave for the Bahamas, enjoy the sultry atmosphere, and marry on Valentine’s Day. And we would ruin it if we continued like this.
I swiped my key card and let myself into the hotel room upstairs, my heart pounding against my throat. I shut myself in then walked to the balcony and exited onto it. I grasped the railing, clutching it so tightly that it cut into my palms.
You’ve got to get it together.
I could resist him if I wanted to. I wasn’t weak. It was the fact that I didn’t want to resist him that got to me.
All the excuses I’d made over the years for why I didn’t want to be with a guy or date long-term came rushing back. A lot of them had been based on what had happened with Matt. He’d shattered my heart. My choice to be with him, even for just a night, had brought that pain.
I wasn’t prepared to go through it again, not with so much going on.
“You’re reading too much into this,” I whispered. “It was just a kiss. A blast from the past.”
My body ached. The remnants of that attraction hadn’t left me yet. What would it be like to be with him again?
He was different. Stronger. Funnier. Slightly more open, but it was a crack in the door rather than an open entryway.
That’s what was attractive about him. He was mysterious, hidden, and his true feelings were both cold and hot at once. Jesus, what did it say about me that I wanted someone who could never give me anything other than a hot night?
I squeezed my eyes shut and exhaled. You need a good night’s rest. That’s all. I’d draw myself a bubble bath, soak and wash away the stickiness of the humidity, and the tension of wanting what I could never have. After that, I’d chill out and watch a movie and rejoin the party tomorrow.
