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He stared at me, silently begging me to change my mind, and I wanted to more than anything. But where would that get us?
"Okay," he nodded. "We can take a small break, but don't expect me to stay away from you. You and soccer are all I care about."
"I know soccer is important to you," I said more softly, taking a step forward. "So go get it, go work hard at whatever you think you need to do. If we are meant to be, we will make it in the end. But I don't think calling you my boyfriend is a good idea until you're ready to put the work into that as well."
"Are you going to wait for me?"
"I'm just going to live my life, Hunter."
"Can we still be friends? Can I treat you to dinner, and check in with you?"
"We aren't finished. That much I know for sure, but I need to remove the expectations of having you as my boyfriend. You're not ready to be someone important to anyone but yourself." He started to argue, but I held my hand up to stop him. "And that's okay. Go take care of yourself, just like I'm doing. We can meet for dinner as friends if you ever want to make that a priority."
He grabbed my hand and gently kissed my fingers before pulling me into a hug. Taking a moment to breathe him in and return his embrace, I soaked in how it felt to have his attention on me. One day, maybe soon, he would realize that soccer had done him wrong, but I hadn't, and I deserved to be his priority.
* * *
A couple of days passed, and Hunter had, surprisingly, texted me daily. There were no phone calls, and he hadn't stopped by to see me, but small texts here and there filled with sweet words. It was the minimum to keep him in my mind.
Most of his messages said how much he missed me, he couldn't wait to hold me, and he even gave me an update on what was happening at the university. In a way, I think he thought he was doing better and proving something to me, but it felt wrong. The fact that I coveted those little texts made me angry with myself.
Friday night, Colton came over, and I cried to him. He made me laugh and told me it would all be okay. But I'm not sure if he was proud of me for standing up to Hunter or if he thought I was crazy to be so needy. He was my brother, but he was also a guy, and I'm sure deep down, he thought I was asking for too much.
By Saturday, I realized I needed to celebrate being strong instead of dwelling on how weak I felt. Because despite those vulnerable feelings, I hadn't begged him to return. I was not my mother. My responses to his texts were short and cheerful, but I had been strong enough not to want more.
Nor did I expect it.
My Nikki's Beach Club membership was just for me; no one else knew I had it. If anyone knew, including Hunter, my parents, and even my brother, they would want to be invited, and that wasn't why I gave myself a membership. It was my hiding place. One that served cocktails out of an actual coconut and served lunch while I relaxed on a chaise in the sand while reading a good book under an umbrella.
"Would you like another drink?"
"No, thank you," I smiled at the waiter, dressed in a white button-up shirt and khaki shorts. His top three buttons were undone, and he didn't have shoes on. It must have been nice working with bare feet in the soft sand. My feet were aching from being in heels all week.
"Lunch will be served soon."
As he walked away, I looked around and noted the crowds filtering into the outdoor space. Good-looking men and women, people playing volleyball in the sand, and the pool splashing off to the side. There was no way I couldn't smile and take a deep breath of relaxation.
Before putting my head back in my book, I glanced ahead of me toward a man pulling his shirt off. His back was to me, but his back was incredible. Broad, muscular, with dips and definition. I would be crazy to look away. He had an old-school tribal design tattoo on his right shoulder blade. But he couldn't have been over thirty.
When he turned back to face me, I looked off quickly, trying to hide the fact that I was staring. He laughed a little, but I didn't know if it was at me or not because I refused to look. At least not until I was sure he was no longer paying any attention in my direction.
"Lunch," the waiter said happily, then set it on a small table next to my lounger. His presence with my food made me sit upright, and I practically clapped my hands together with excitement.
"Thank you," I squealed, loving the indulgence before I had even had a bite.
"Of course, anything else?"
"No, thank you." Waiting a minute, I watched as he left to be sure he didn't witness how fast I was going to shovel the food into my mouth. Most of Nikki's clientele were too refined to even use the word shovel when speaking of food. But not this girl. I just made sure to hide that part of myself so I didn't get kicked to the curb.
Dammit, I was acting like my mother after all. But at least it was about pretending to be civilized and not having anything to do with men.
Only a few bites in, I was moaning in pleasure as the cheese dip and salsa took turns hitting my tongue. There was even a little sway in my shoulders as I prepared myself for another bite. It made me forget that others were around, and it never occurred to me that someone would find me entertaining.
"I'll have what she's having," a deep, somewhat familiar voice, laced with amusement, spoke.
Freezing, I realized he was talking about me but was afraid to let him know I'd heard. But when I took a small peek and saw it was the guy with the sexy back, he saw me and smiled. There was no sense in pretending to hide anymore, so I smiled and gave him a small wave.
All the loungers had shade, but his had been pulled back, and he was angled toward mine in the direction of the late afternoon sun. His skin glistened, and his dark, dirty blonde hair was long but not quite reaching his shoulders. The locks were blowing in the wind, and he had a sexy smirk on his face. Although his eyes were covered with sunglasses, I could tell he was still looking directly at me.
