“Um…”
“I mean, we were fine, but when you got up to help the dogs, it’s a like a switch flipped or something,” she goes on. “If you want me to go or you’re having regrets…”
“Me?” I say, the mirthless laugh out before I can stop it. “I wasn’t thinking any of those things until I realized we were essentially just…you know…fuck buddies.”
Her eyes go wide as she gasps. “Excuse me?”
Pfft…she has some nerve sounding offended.
“Um…yeah. You said so yourself right before I left the room!” I mimic her pose and feel pretty damn smug that I’m calling her out on this.
“Are you freaking serious right now? I never said we were…you know…fuck buddies. I would never say something like that!”
“Liv, please, you said that we all ‘buddied up’—your exact words, by the way—so…”
Rolling her eyes, she spins away with a huff and sits on the bed. “That wasn’t what I meant at all. I mean, those were my words, but I just meant like we’re all couples now. When the girls planned this trip and added you guys, Roxie thought she’d have me to hang out with so she wouldn’t feel so alone.” Another eye roll, this time followed by a snort. “Unbelievable.”
“And then you casually threw it out there when we were talking to Mike and Loren about how you and I hooked up,” I reason, still totally feeling like I am the injured party here.
“Okay, Sebastian, what exactly would you have liked me to say, huh? And for the record, keep in mind that our friend is having some serious mental health issues right now. Would it have made you feel better if I said something about how you and I felt inexplicably drawn to each other and you were my knight in shining armor who selflessly offered me shelter from the dogs and snoring, which led to us magically making love? Would that have been less offensive to you?”
I could have done without the sarcastic tone, but other than that, all I can do is blink because…she’s right. That would have sounded beyond ridiculous. So, I do the only thing I can and throw myself on her mercy.
“You made it all sound very…casual. I’ve been thinking about the connection we have, and your words made it all seem very one-sided.”
Her expression softens and she slowly gets to her feet and pads over to me.
“Everyone thinks that writers always say the right things, but…that’s on the page when I have a chance to edit and rewrite things a hundred times. In everyday conversations, I sometimes say something stupid.” Her hand is on my chest, and she looks up at me with a sad smile. “We do have a connection. You know that. But we also are just now starting…whatever this is going to be. Our friends are already way too involved, and I don’t really like that because I’m a private person. I’ve learned the hard way that letting everyone know your business doesn’t always work out.”
I know exactly what—or should I say who—she’s referring to, and I get it.
“Damn, Liv. I’m sorry. I guess I just…”
“You heard the words I was saying and had no reason not to believe them. So really, I’m sorry.”
Leaning forward, I kiss the tip of her nose. “I thought we said we were going to stop apologizing to each other.”
She laughs softly. “We were, but that doesn’t mean we don’t apologize when it’s really important.” I watch as she slowly pulls back so I can fully see her face. “And this is important. You’re important. It would just be great if everyone…”
I place a finger over her lips. “Here’s the thing—this trip sounded like a great idea in theory. But I’m guessing we’re all sort of seeing the flaws in the plan. Hopefully tomorrow will be a turning point and everyone just learns to be okay with doing things separately, and when we’re together, including everyone.”
Her hand smooths up over my chest, my shoulder, and up to my jaw.
I really love when she does that.
“I think you are very sweet and very wise.” Then she kisses me and—just like it did earlier—the rest of the world fades away.
I kiss her back and we press closer and closer together before carefully making our way over to the bed and falling onto it. Neither of us wants to break the kiss, so we keep going as we clumsily scoot up the mattress until our heads are on the pillows. Then I gently tug at the tie on her robe until it loosens and falls open. Liv tugs my t-shirt up and over my head.
And then I have both her hands anchored over her head, kissing her as if my life depends on it. She’s becoming essential to me, and it terrifies the crap out of me. This isn’t who I usually am; I don’t fall like this.
Ever.
But as Olivia writhes beneath me, all I can think of is how much I want more, how I don’t want this moment—this feeling—to end. I know it will. It has to. But for tonight, I’m going to savor every touch, every breath, every sigh, every caress.
Tomorrow’s another day and I’m hopeful we’ll come back and do this all over again.
“I thought you said we were going to do this over on the sound?” I ask, staring at the Atlantic Ocean.
