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Ethan glares at his brother. “A little louder, you dumbass. She may not have heard you.”
"That's my sister, Carla, he's talking about. She does have an impressive rack," I say with a shrug.
“I’m really not interested in Carla’s rack,” he says, maintaining eye contact with me as his brother quickly approaches. “Can I pick you up later?”
"You're not heading to Party Bay with everyone else on the island?"
“Not to stay. I told Goofus here that I’d drop him off, then I’m coming straight back so I can get in my workout. So? Can I pick you up?”
“I get off work at four. If you’re actually here, we could go grab an ice cream.”
Ethan grins. “It’s a date.”
I watch as the boat pulls away, my heart fluttering. What just happened? Did I agree to go out with a richie? I bite my lip, telling myself it'll be fine. I just won't sleep with him so I won't end up like my sister and mom. But, man, if he keeps coming back to see me, not sleeping with him is going to be harder than his brother getting a date with Beyoncé. Or a six-pack.
Four
Ethan
Four o’clock cannot come soon enough for me. I think about Jess all afternoon—while I’m swimming my laps, while I shower, while I eat my post-workout tuna salad. She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Feisty, too. And she’s not at all like the spoiled rich girls I know, always putting on airs and acting like they own the world. Jess is down-to-earth—the type that knows what’s really important in life. I could get used to a girl like her.
I drive down to the marina and park, then jog down the long set of wooden stairs to the dock. As soon as I get there, I see her walking out of the building that holds the restaurant and store. It takes me a second to know that it’s her. She’s wearing a cute, little dress and her hair isn’t covered up by that ball cap anymore. Instead, it’s in a low ponytail that barely contains it.
I wave and break into a wide grin. “Hey, Jess.”
She gives me a shy smile. “I wasn’t sure if you’d actually show up.”
"I always do what I say I will." I stare at her for a moment and realize that she's been let down before. I decide right then that I'm not going to be someone she has to get over. I reach up and slide her backpack off her shoulder, letting my fingertips graze against her collarbone. I sling the bag over my shoulder, then put on a very formal tone and say, "Where to, my lady?"
I hold out one hand to her. Jess rewards me with a giggle, then takes my hand and nods, trying to act as highbrow as I am. “Seventy Flavors, sir.”
I take her hand in mine and slip my fingers between hers, then turn so we’re walking side-by-side. I hear her gasp a little and I tighten my grip. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just...you just surprised me is all. I’m not used to being surprised. Not in a good way, anyhow.”
I stop and turn to her, lifting my other hand to her hair and tucking a piece behind her ear. “Well, get used to it, Jess. Not everyone in this world will let you down.”
We walk along the boardwalk in the late day sun, chatting and getting to know each other a little. I have about a million things I want to know about her and it’s hard for me to hold back on peppering her with question after question. When I ask her about her family, she starts with the quick overview—no father, one sister who had a son when she was eighteen, a mom who hates where life has taken her and seems to take it out on her daughters. As her story unfolds, I realize who let her down. Her father first by disappearing, then her mother, by putting such tight restrictions on her and by making her think every guy is a bad one. I listen, my heart breaking a little for her, and when she’s done talking, I’m determined to prove her mother wrong.
She suddenly stops walking and covers her face with her hand. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just told you all of that. I never talk about an
y of that.”
I turn to her and lift my fingers to her chin, then gently nudge her face, so she's looking at me. "I'm glad you told me. I want to know everything about you, Jess."
“Yeah, but not the messy stuff. Nobody wants to know the messy stuff.”
“When it comes to you, I do.”
“Why?” She stares at me, her eyes searching for the truth. “Why would someone like you even want to talk to someone like me, let alone want to really know me?”
“Someone like me? You mean some rich kid?”
She nods her head. “Yeah. No offense, but I’ve met my share of wealthy families who spend the summers here. None of them have ever really given me the time of day, so it’s hard for me to understand…this.”
"I'm not offended. I know the type you mean—the ones who only care about one-upping each other. I'm not into that. I like to get to know people for what's inside." I run my thumb over her cheek, it's so soft and warm to the touch. "I could tell when I met you that you're someone worth knowing."
She glances at my mouth and swallows hard and I know she's expecting me to kiss her. And I want to so badly that I can almost taste her lips already. My cock twitches at the thought, but I won't do it. Not until she says it's all right.
