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I smiled at her as I popped it into my mouth. “Just the way I like it.”
We sat in silence for a couple of minutes. I sipped on my beer and watched as she closed her eyes. The wind blew stray hair in her face, and I couldn’t help but notice how at peace she looked.
“I still fucking hate you,” she said, and those gorgeous blue eyes of hers popped open. She glared when she noticed I was staring.
I sipped my beer and didn’t say anything. She had every right to hate me. I deserved it after I treated her like garbage and made her feel like she was worthless. I deserved every hateful glare and snappy retort she sent my way.
She stared into the fire. “If you stay out of my way, I’ll stay out of yours. The cabin’s big enough for both of us. I wish Avery hadn’t meddled, but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay, works for me.”
She eyed me suspiciously while she drank her beer, then set it down and took a picture of it with her phone. I didn’t think anything of it because Gemma was always taking weird pictures to post on the brewery’s social media accounts.
Wait. What had she meant about a forced vacation?
“What did you mean earlier?” I asked.
“When?”
“About a ‘forced vacation.’ What does that mean?”
“Nothing,” she snapped.
I held up my hands and drank my beer in silence beside her. I watched her profile as she leaned back against the chair. The light of the fire reflected off the colors in her hair, and she looked so beautiful. It made me want to sketch her, but she’d stab me with her stick if I did that.
We sat quietly in front of the fire together, drinking our beers and eating too many marshmallows. We barely spoke, both of us too tired for yet another screaming match. I could tell something was bothering her, but I wasn’t going to poke the bear. I had already annoyed her enough by my mere existence.
After I downed a second beer, the fire started to go out. I was exhausted from my day at the nature preserve and ready for bed. “You need help putting out the fire?” I asked.
“I got it,” she said with a hint of indignation.
“You sure, sweet thing?” I teased.
“Oh, my god! Fuck off into the sun, Felix! I know what I’m doing.”
Gemma hated being called ‘sweet thing,’ and I only called her that to annoy her. I said it once during a bitter argument, and then never stopped in an effort to keep up my asshole appearance. But honestly? It was fitting. Gemma was a sweet thing to everyone else but me. The regulars loved her, and everyone who worked at the brewery listened to her whenever she had a new marketing plan. When she roped everyone into helping with her sister’s wedding at the brewery, no one said no. Because how could you say no when Gemma gave you that pretty smile and those big blue puppy dog eyes? You couldn’t.
I smiled at her and took her empty beer bottles with me inside. This week was going to be interesting. I watched Gemma from the window for a few seconds before climbing the steps to my room. I shut the door behind me and undressed for bed.
I thought I would fall asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but of course, my horny brain had other thoughts. Every time I closed my eyes, memories of my night with Gemma flashed before them.
“Fuck,” I swore as I reached a hand down and gripped my enraged dick.
I slid my hand up and down my shaft as I remembered the sounds of Gemma’s moans. Images of that night assaulted my brain as I stroked myself harder. It didn’t take long before I shot my load onto my stomach.
As I cleaned myself off in the bathroom, the reality of the situation sunk in. I was so totally fucked. There was no way Gemma and I could survive this week without wanting to kill each other. Or worse. But crawling into bed together again was a terrible idea.
