Page 18

TRENT

S ara and I spend the rest of the day making love.

I say “making love” because that’s how it feels. All my hookups before this were truly just sex. Sex with no feelings beyond simple lust.

It was fun, but it wasn’t fulfilling like this.

But that’s no surprise. Everything’s always been better with Sara. We know each other’s dreams and histories and family connections. We’ve memorized favorite foods and the names of each other’s childhood pets.

And now we know each other’s bodies with the same sort of intimacy.

“Holy shit.” She flops on her back with a sigh and a giggle at the end of our fourth round of lovemaking. Turning to face me, she smiles with her whole entire face. “So that was doggy style, huh?”

“How’d you like it?” I roll to my side, brushing the hair from her cheek. “Was it what you imagined?”

“Better.” She grins, her cheeks flushed with exertion and maybe a touch of self-consciousness. She nibbles her lip and I already love whatever’s about to come out of her mouth .

“I’m wondering something.”

I smile. “Fire away.”

All day, she’s hit me questions like I’m some sort of sexual expert. It’s the one perk we’ve found to the secret sex life that’s shamed me for years.

“Um, okay.” She nibbles her lip again so I kiss her to make her go easy on her mouth. “Would you say your balls are bigger than average?”

A startled laugh rips out of me. “Uh, well, I haven’t exactly studied a lot of guys’ balls.” I order myself not to wince. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I noticed when you’re fucking me like that, they kinda swing forward and slap on my clit.” She giggles and blushes again. “Oh my God. I can’t believe I just said that.” She covers her face with her hands. “Who is this woman talking about balls and clits and?—”

“Don’t be embarrassed.” She’s so fucking cute when she’s like this. Peeling her hands off her face, I gently kiss each of her knuckles. “I love that we’re able to talk about this stuff now.”

“Me, too.”

“Is the ball-slapping thing a problem?”

“No!” She giggles again. “It’s great. I honestly came just from that.”

“I love it.” And I love how responsive she is. Maybe it’s Sara, or maybe it’s just how things are when there’s love involved.

But I can’t get carried away here. Love is one thing, but it’s still not enough. The future we dreamed of together isn’t one that I’m able to provide.

Maybe sensing my somber mood, Sara covers her breasts with the sheet. “My mom called this morning.” Wincing, she squeezes her eyes shut. “I’m sorry. That was awkward, huh?”

“It’s okay.” She’s close with her parents. It’s one thing I’ve always admired about her. “What did she say?”

When she opens her eyes, she looks guilty. “She’s accepted the fact that there won’t be a wedding, but she’s asking about other options for the future.”

“Options?” I’m playing dumb. Stalling, I guess. I’m not sure what I can tell her. Every possible combination of words will just hurt her.

We don’t want the same things.

You’re the most amazing woman in the world, but I still can’t marry you.

And the worst, most shameful one of all:

I still haven’t shared all my secrets.

There’s no way I can say that, not any of it. We’re basking in the afterglow of first-time sex. I don’t have the heart to crush her like that.

But she’s looking at me for an answer. The best I can give her is this.

“I can’t go through with the wedding, Sara.” It takes all my courage not to break eye contact. “What we planned for and dreamed of—it’s not me, you know?”

“I do.” She winces again. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that in a wedding-y way.”

“I know.” Kissing her gently, I stroke back her hair. “I love you. All these years, I’ve never stopped loving you. I never will, either.”

“Oh.” Tears fill her eyes and my heart splits in two. “Then what about?—”

“How about this.” I can’t have this talk while we’re naked. Not within hours of the sex act that changed us forever. I don’t mean her virginity, either.

What happened this morning woke something inside me. Our encounter with Logan stirred up feelings I’ve run from for ages.

Searching her eyes, I continue. “Let’s leave the real world where it is right now. Just for a few days, okay?”

She hesitates, nibbling her lip again. “Okay.”

“Yeah? ”

“Yes.” She smiles and I kiss her again, aching inside as I know what I’m doing is only postponing her heartache.

“You’re here for a fantasy experience,” I point out. “To explore all the things you haven’t given yourself the freedom to try. I’m just honored I’m getting to be a part of that.”

A faint light of hope gleams in her eyes. “I’m glad, too.”

“So let’s be happy with that. For now, we can focus on pleasure. The real world can wait a few days. Sound good?”

“Yes.” With a ghost-smile that shimmers with shyness and need, she pushes me onto my back. Climbing astride me, she grins. “Hey, Trent?”

“Yeah?” God, I love the gleam in her eyes. The slope of her breasts and streaks of gold light on her sex-messy hair as Caribbean sun streams through the window.

Still smiling, she dips down to kiss me. “Let’s focus on pleasure some more.”

I’m pushing my luck by prowling the Crystal Bliss grounds after dark again. Ash did me a favor by letting me stay, even granting me my own private suite. That’s probably a favor for Sara more than me. I’m still on thin ice, and we need our own space to sort out our feelings and future.

So what the fuck am I doing hacking the app again? Or slinking through shadows to find The Chateau where the Crystal Bliss consorts reside.

I’m cursing myself as I rap on the door of a third-floor apartment, half hoping he doesn’t answer. The app shows Logan blocked out for the evening, so maybe he’s busy with some other woman. Or maybe not even a woman. Maybe?—

“Trent?” He blinks as the door swings open. Alarm fills his eyes as he squints past my shoulder. “Where’s Sara? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s great.” More than great. Not that I’m counting, but I made certain she came at least ten times before I kissed her goodnight. “Can I come in?”

“Uh, sure.” Logan glances behind him and I feel like a dick.

“Shit, sorry.” I take a step back from the door. “You have a date?”

“No, I’m just—I don’t usually entertain here.” He holds open the door, inviting me into his space. “It’s kind of a mess. I haven’t been home much lately.”

“Job keeps you busy, huh?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

He sounds distracted as I step over the threshold, inhaling the faint scent of cedar and sea salt. I catalogue details like I’m scouting a terrorist hideout.

There’s a desk in the corner holding an oversized laptop and several thick books on military history.

There’s a fern in a pot by the window, and his blinds are half open to showcase a fat wedge of starlit sea.

There’s a dresser that holds a trio of photos in frames, along with a small stack of laundry.

His bed isn’t made, and I catch myself wondering how many people he’s enchanted there recently.

“Can I help you, Trent?”

I turn to find Logan has crept up behind me. The guy’s pretty stealthy for a jarhead. He’s shirtless and wearing a loose pair of blue plaid boxers. His short, sandy hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it.

My tongue feels unusually thick. “I wanted to talk to you for a sec.”

His forehead furrows. “Is this about Sara?” He crosses his arms and I notice a scar on the left one that I hadn’t noticed before. “Let me stop you right there if it is. I won’t discuss other guests unless they give their permission. The situation’s already kinda awkward with you being here and?—”

“It’s not about Sara.” My eyes zero in on the trio of photos arranged on his dresser. On one smiling face in particular .

I step to the edge and pick up the rustic steel frame. A fist grips my stomach as I stare at the two men in uniform.

One of them is Logan.

The other—“You fucking know Scott Heath. Like know him know him.”

I glance up to see him look puzzled. “I told you I did.”

“I thought you just served together.” Holy shit, this changes things. “You’re actually close .”

“Yeah.” He’s still got his arms crossed, staring at me like he’s trying to see through my skull. “Is there a question here?”

So many of them. I set the picture down and shove both my hands in my pockets. “So you know each other well. Really well.”

Realization flickers in his eyes. “Not like that, no.”

“But you’re bi.”

“Yep.” A hint of a smile tugs his mouth. Is the son of a bitch laughing at me? “Want a beer, Trent?”

“Yeah, sure.” God, I suck at this. “Sorry I’m being a dick.”

He laughs for real and goes to the fridge in the corner. “Why don’t you head out to the balcony. Is Deschutes IPA okay?”

“Yeah, great.” Pretty damn cool he’s got beer from Oregon.

I hate how I’ve found myself liking him.

I shove open the sliding glass door and step onto a platform that’s almost as big as my driveway.

Logan’s got a corner unit, which must be one of the perks of working here as long as he has.

Grasping the railing, I take several deep lungfuls of sea air.

The smell of the ocean calms me like always, and so does the rustling of breeze in the palm trees.

It’s a nice night, all speckly skies and a moon throwing sparks on the water.

I can see why Ash and Camille like living here.

By the time Logan joins me, I’ve almost got my heart rate under control.

“You’re welcome,” he says as he hands me an icy-cold bottle.

“Thanks.” We got that backwards, and he probably did it on purpose. Trying to keep me off balance or whatever .

I’d be annoyed, except I’d do the same in his shoes.

“Scott saved my life.” He twists the top off his beer as he says it, waiting for me to do likewise.

“We were on a mission in the Gulf of Aden. I slipped and went into the water and Scott jumped in after me.” There’s a pause as he gulps down a swallow of beer.

“The other men in our squad—all eight of them—didn’t make it back. ”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”