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"Something like that as in, it's okay that I want to fuck you, or something like that as in, it's okay that I want to fuck you, but we better not?" Because those were the only two options I had.
"We…" she trailed off, stunned by how forward I was. There had never been any sense in beating around the bush. Rarely did I fuck the same person twice, and never had I gotten too attached to any one of them. Over time, it became easier for me to be upfront, and since sex was all I had to offer in any form of human interaction, why avoid it?
Plus, the girl who moaned around a straw coming from a coconut immediately had my attention. It had been a minute since I felt so inspired to put in any effort at all.
"We what?" I urged her to keep talking with a playful smirk. "Did I take you off guard? Offend you?"
"I'm not offended, I'm intrigued. Not sure anyone has ever been that blunt with me."
"If IMG knows anything about Tripp Maddux, it's that he doesn't play the long game. Not in soccer, and especially not in his personal life. You should probably add that to the company file first thing Monday morning."
"Sounds lonely."
She hit the nail on the head and didn't even realize it. Loneliness was my main character trait. My body language told her she was right, so I didn't bother answering. I just leaned back and took a peek at the ocean.
"Something like that," I tried laughing, using her exact words to describe my own situation.
"Were you joking?" she asked with a serious tone. Was that a trick question?
My face slowly turned toward her, and I watched as her eyes bounced between mine and my lips. "Those little moans of yours were making me feel something I probably shouldn't have. No sense joking about it."
"We just met."
"Two people meeting is the only requirement for them to find pleasure. Look at us, we've enjoyed a meal together, and talking, we even share the same tastes in food and drinks. We are practically best friends."
Her mouth was slightly open, and I could tell her brain was racing a mile a minute. Turning back to the water, I decided I would be patient for her. If she needed a minute to figure out if she was in a relationship or not, or if she wanted what I had proposed, then I had time. It wasn't lost on me, though, that the time I gave her was time I'd never have given anyone else.
"I'm celebrating," she blurted, not making any sense at first. "It's only been three days, though."
"What are we celebrating?"
"My strength. Because I broke up with my boyfriend three days ago." I didn't expect her to say that, and I understood why she told me it was complicated. Three days wasn't long enough to let it go, and based on the tone of her voice, she probably wondered if the moment we were having together was another test of her strength.
"What an idiot," I mumbled, shaking my head in disgust.
"What?" Her spine straightened as she faced me a little more, clearly upset.
"Not you. Him."
"It was my idea, not his." Still defending him wasn't a good sign, and I was tempted to tell her how weak she looked. I'd never had a best friend before, so I wasn't sure what was a good thing to say.
"But he let you think it was an option," I countered instead, "and he's an idiot for that."
"As opposed to telling a woman you just met that you want to fuck her?"
"I'm sorry, was I supposed to pretend to be someone I'm not? Did you want me to make you fall in love with me first, and then leave you heartbroken when Miami sends me to another team for blinking the wrong way? That isn't how I work, but it doesn't mean I don't recognize an idiot. I knew just glancing at you what I wanted, but he had it and let it go. I'm sorry Coconut, but that's just dumb."
Her smile was soft, and my eyes followed when her tongue wet her lips. She was making it harder for me than usual, and I found it more intriguing than infuriating. I found everything about her more compelling than anyone I had ever met.
How did anyone, man or woman, resist the way she shook her shoulders when she took a bite of food? Or the way her lips looked when they were closed around a straw? Even the way her lips quirked when she wanted to smile but didn't want to be caught was calling to me.
"Coconut?"
"You haven't given me your real name."
"Do you still want it?"
"Not really," I huffed. "We've already overshared."
