Page 11

CHAPTER 11

PAXTON

“And then the manager came looking for us,” I say through my laughter, tilted on my side where I lounge on the beach chair closest to Monroe.

“And we had to hide in the utility closet for an hour.” Monroe is laughing so hard she’s holding her side, looking absolutely stunning in her sarong and swimsuit combo.

I shrug, reeling in my laughter. “We found ways to entertain ourselves.”

“Better than getting our parents kicked out of the hotel for stealing stuff off the hotel carts.” She tilts her sunglasses down so she can eye me.

“Hey, those mints were my favorite at the time,” I argue with a smile.

She fixes her sunglasses, grinning at me as she rolls to her back, stretching out in the long beach chair. She looks ahead, to the ocean that’s softly lapping toward where we set up the chairs on the white sandy beach.

There are a few other patrons several yards away from us, but we mostly have this section to ourselves.

“Still can’t get over how stunning this place is,” Monroe says, glancing toward me, her head resting against the chair.

“It’s pretty incredible from where I’m sitting,” I agree, but I’m looking directly at her.

Her full lips shape a smile. “Definitely different from all the other vacations we’ve taken before,” she says.

I chuckle. “Definitely.” I swallow hard, heat zapping across my body at the thought of just how different this vacation has been. I’ve been living out my wildest fantasies with the girl of my dreams, and I keep waiting for the moment I’ll wake up. “We mostly stuck to hiking or other excursions on family trips,” I continue. “Not...”

“Not using each other as the excursion?” Monroe offers when I pause, and then we’re both laughing again. “Can you imagine?” she asks casually.

“I can imagine a lot of things,” I say. “Be more specific.” I reach over the small space between us, interlacing our fingers.

“If we’d tried anything like this before,” she answers, tracing the back of my hand with her fingers.

I grin. “We’d probably be married by now,” I say before I can think better of it.

Monroe stiffens next to me, dropping my hand in a no-so-casual way.

I cringe. “Or married and divorced by now,” I hurry to say, trying miserably to cover my slipup.

She forces a laugh, and I want to punch myself.

“Paxton,” she says my name like a warning filled with a heavy dose of pity, and it only makes me feel that much worse. “You know me.”

“I know,” I say quickly.

“Marriage seems like a fairy tale only few achieve.”

“Like your parents,” I say, nodding and doing my best to swallow down the pain that is wreaking havoc on my insides.

She’s not telling me anything I don’t already know, but fucking hell, it still stings. I hoped that whatever is happening between us would be different. It certainly feels different. But maybe that’s just because I’ve been in love with her forever.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “That kind of relationship doesn’t happen to everyone. They’re almost nauseating with how much they love each other.”

She’s not wrong, her parents are the epitome of marital status. They genuinely love each other, respect each other, fight for each other, and put their relationship first. It’s a beautiful thing to witness, a hopeful one, even.

That could be us.

I want to say it.

I want to tell her that so damn badly.

But there’s not a shot in hell that I’m going to blow the time she’s given me.

Even if it’ll hurt all that much more in the end.

She’s worth it.

“When is the next time they’re coming to Bangor?” I ask, desperate to steer the subject back to some common ground that doesn’t feel so damn precarious.

The tension in her shoulders settles a bit and she looks back out at the waves crashing toward us. “They can’t get out until Thanksgiving probably,” she answers.

“Five months? What’s keeping them?” They don’t usually go that long between visits.

“Dad is getting inducted into the NFL hall of fame,” she says.

“No shit?” I ask, smiling at her. “That’s amazing. About damn time too.”

She laughs. “He’s only been retired six years,” she counters.

“Still, I was shocked he didn’t get it that fifth year of retirement. He was the best running back on the 49ers for over a decade.”

Monroe pulls out her phone and pushes it toward me. “You should call and tell him that, he always loves being reminded,” she teases.

I shrug, moving to take her phone. “I’ve got no qualms calling your dad,” I say confidently, but she pulls the phone away, settling it next to her.

“You’re ridiculous,” she teases.

“Why?” I ask. “Because I love your parents? They love me back.”

“Everyone loves you back,” she argues.

Not everyone.

I almost say the words out loud, but catch myself. I know Monroe loves me. She’s my best friend. And that’s okay. She doesn’t have to love me in the way I love her.

“So, it’ll be a fun Thanksgiving with an NFL hall-of-famer then,” I say. “I’ll have to do a dinner and get all the guys to come so we can fan out.”

Monroe snorts. “He’ll likely beat you to that,” she says. “You know how much he loves hockey. I think he cheers for you harder than I do.”

“If that’s true then you need to up your cheering status,” I tease her.

She gapes at me. “Don’t I always have your number on my back?” she fires at me. “At this point I should just have the number sixty tattooed on my arm.”

The words paint an image that has me salivating in the most caveman way possible and I do my best to quash it. But damn . Seeing her in my jersey—even in friendly support—has always been a turn-on. If she had my number inked on my skin? Fuck me.

I grab my phone, smirking as I bring up a web browser.

“What are you doing?” she asks.

“Searching for local tattoo places,” I tease. “I’m sure there’s one where we could get that done.”

She laughs and reaches for my phone, the motion causing her to come fully onto my chair as I pull it just out of reach.

I loop one arm around her as she crashes against my chest, giggling as I keep it away from her.

Then her mouth is against mine, her kiss searing as she teases me with the tip of her tongue?—

“Got it!” she proclaims, taking my phone right out of my hand. “No ink today.”

I laugh, not even trying to get it back. “You’ll pay for that,” I tease.

“Oh yeah?” she asks, putting my phone next to hers on her abandoned chair. “How?”

Lava ripples beneath my skin as I shift her against me, her body now flush with mine and her lips a breath away from my mouth.

“I could ensure that you get no sleep tonight,” I say, my tone lowering as blood thrums hot through my veins. I slide my hands over her smooth skin, relishing every inch of her against me.

“Hmm,” she says, dragging her lips against mine in a tease. “Maybe it’s you who will be kept up all night.”

Fuck me. That quickly, I want her.

So much so that if she keeps teasing me like that, I’ll end up inside her right here on this beach, risk of getting caught be damned.

“Maybe I should take you home right now,” I say, lightly gripping her ass in the way she loves and being rewarded with the sexiest little whimper.

“Home,” she says, then draws back enough to look down at me. “About that…” She dips down again, kissing me quickly, almost like she can’t help it. “What exactly is going to happen when we get home?”

The seriousness of the question shakes a little of the pulse-pounding-lust from my mind, and I clear my throat. “What do you want to happen?”

She sits up a little, positioning one thigh on either side of my hips as she looks down at me, her hands tracing my chest absently. “I don’t know,” she admits. “We live together…for the time being.”

The end of that sentence makes a little hole creep up in my chest, but I ignore it.

“We do,” I say, skimming my hands along her hips.

“And we’ve clearly crossed lines here on vacation,” she says. “Is this an only on vacation situation or…” Her voice trails off.

“I don’t want it to be,” I admit.

“Really?” she asks, the sound of surprise coloring her tone. “You’d want to continue this? Even when you know where I stand on marriage?”

I shift in my seat, sitting up so we can be face to face. “I want you in whatever way you’ll have me,” I reassure her. “If that means we continue just as we are, then we do. If you want to stop, we do. The question is, what do you want?”

She hesitates, drifting closer and closer to my mouth with hers. “I don’t want to stop just because we go home.”

Her words are like gasoline to the flames roaring inside my body, and my lips are on hers in a heartbeat. I tunnel my fingers through her hair, slanting my mouth over hers to kiss her deeply, letting my body say all the things I can’t.

She kisses me back, hard and with as much passion, the two of us completely lost in each other. Her body is soft and flush against mine, and the swimsuit is doing little to separate us. One shift and I can sink between her gorgeous thighs?—

“Paxton,” she sighs against my mouth, pulling back slightly. “Take me back.”

I kiss her quickly before she hops off of me, allowing me a second to adjust before I help her gather our beach towels and bag, and we all but run back to our bungalow.