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“It’s getting late,” he murmurs. “Aren’t you supposed to meet your cousin at three?”
I glance at the clock. I’m terrible at keeping track of the time. Or, rather, I usually know what time it is, thanks to Cade, but that doesn’t necessarily keep me from being late.
I have fifteen minutes, but I choose to snuggle up against Cade’s side, making myself the little spoon, even though he’s lying on his back. “I guess I should go shower and get dressed.”
“Yeah,” he agrees. He gently strokes my wrist where our arms cross. He’s always been very tactile, ready for cuddling anywhere, but right now, I wish he would be a bit more helpful.
I know it’s my job to get into the shower and choose something to wear, and I know I’m going to be late if I keep snuggling with him like this. But it would be nice if he would just…
A vision swims into my mind of someone standing over me, telling me to get your ass in the shower, girl. It’s not Cade. I literally can’t picture him ever doing that, so it doesn’t even happen in my imagination. No, instead, it’s someone older. Distinguished. A faceless fantasy who’s able to back up his claims with delicious consequences.
I bite back a sigh and suppress the little twinge of guilt I feel for how often I let my imagination wander in this direction lately. It started out as a sexual fantasy, but increasingly, it’s times like these where it bleeds into other parts of my life, too.
I wouldn’t have to fantasize about faceless men if Cade would just tell me what to wear and make me not be late, but I know it’s not fair to resent him for the fact that he won’t, because that’s not who he is.
And I love who he is.
I just also wish… well, I don’t even know. I just wish I could be happier. That we both could be.
I look at the clock, and somehow, it’s already three. I just wasted fifteen minutes moping/fantasizing, which seems to be my favorite new pastime.
I reluctantly drag myself out of bed. Cade reaches for my hand before it slips away, and pulls it to his mouth for a kiss.
His beautiful dark eyes say I love you and also I’m sorry, even though he doesn’t have anything to apologize for.
I huff, probably because I’m childish, and I don’t want to take a shower and figure out what the temperature is outside and then choose a dress. But I do it anyway. And if I can’t help unfairly resenting Cade a little for things that aren’t his fault, well, this time, at least, I manage to keep that to myself.
A full twenty minutes later, I’m strolling down the cute little wooden sidewalk that stretches over the gleaming white sand and looking for my cousin, Sophia.
I spot her in a flash of russet skin and a white dress, waving me over.
“Hey, girl!” I greet her, bouncing over to her table and putting my relationship worries aside.
It’s seriously good to see her, and we’re literally in paradise. The sun is beaming down, and she’s chosen a shady spot under a thatched roof awning. She’s sipping from a tall glass with a sunset of colors inside and—because she’s the best cousin ever—there’s another one already waiting for me.
“Yazzy!” She gets up so we can hug, and then squeeze each other again. She’s a few years older than me, but we’ve always been close.
“I can’t believe you’re getting married,” I gush.
Her face goes all dreamy for a moment. “I just got lucky enough to find the right guy.”
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t just ‘find’ him,” I tease her, since Cade is the one who introduced Sophia to his uncle, Victor. “But I agree. Victor’s awesome. Total swoon.”
“I know! And have you seen his ass?”
We giggle together.
“It runs in the family,” I add, placing my hand over my heart and letting my eyes roll back. “But those little silver hairs at his temples…”
“To sexy older men!”
She raises her glass, and I quickly pick mine up to clink against hers. “To sexy older men.”
And I don’t even feel guilty saying so—much—since I know Cade would be the first to agree.
Now that I have my glass in hand, I take a sip. Sweetness bursts on my tongue in a profusion of flavors, with a heavy hand on the booze. “Mmmmm… oh my God, this is good. What’s even in it?”
Sophia shrugs. “No idea. I don’t even know what it’s called. I just tell them to bring me something tasty, and it always is.”
