Does It Hurt? (9)



God, he’s mean. Why do I like it?

“Whatever. Let me just get the money for—”

“You put any money out and I’ll shove it down your throat,” he warns, his voice deepening dangerously.

My eyes snap to him, round with shock.

“Jesus, if you want to be a gentleman, just say that. Weirdo.”

He ignores me, and brushes past, heading toward the exit without a backward glance. The dickhead just assumes that I’ll follow him.

Well.

He's right.

I’ve never been one to possess self-control. I hop off the barstool and hurry after him, my flip-flops clacking against the sticky floor as I work to catch up to him.

“I appreciate your unreasonably fast pace,” I pant as we emerge into the hot Australian sun. I squint, the blaring light stabbing at my sensitive eyes. “Doesn’t waste any time. I like that. I’m a busy woman, you know?”

I’m already sweating, his long legs eating up an ungodly amount of space far quicker than my little legs can handle.

“Somehow, I doubt that.”





Chapter 3


Sawyer





“Why do people say the universe makes them feel small but never say that about waterfalls?”

“Probably because they feel waterfalls can be conquered. But no one will ever conquer the universe.”

I jut out my bottom lip, considering his response. “The ocean hasn’t been conquered. People don’t say that about them, either.”

He scoffs. “Those people have never been in the middle of the ocean then.”

Fishing out his wallet, Enzo tosses it on the ground before reaching behind his head, grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it off. My mouth dries as he drops the material to the wet rock, wondering how he can make it so a stone retains moisture better than me.

He's only wearing black swim shorts, leaving far too many inches of skin exposed. Every muscle that shouldn’t be physically possible to exist… well, exists. My knees are seconds away from crashing to the rock.

“Please put your shirt back on,” I beg.

He brushes past me without listening to my very reasonable request and dives headfirst into the massive diving hole before us. His skin barely touched mine, yet it still feels like electricity is dancing across my body.

If I jump in now, I’ll die via electrocution.

“You could've hit your head!” I shout above the thundering rush of water as soon as his head pops up from the aqua surface. He ignores me and swims toward the waterfall, his tanned back glistening beneath the sunlight.

Really, I’m not even sure why he invited me.

But I’m glad for it, because now that his muscles are no longer visible, I can properly appreciate the view.

It’s breathtaking. A small alcove surrounded by cliffs and bright green plant life that bleed into the sparkling blue depths. Straight ahead is a massive waterfall, the force of it vibrating my bones. Vines crawl up hundreds of feet of rock, and I'm deeply considering grabbing onto one and testing my Tarzan skills. I've always wanted to swing from a vine and jump into water. Be one with nature and shit.

Enzo turns to look at me, and my heart stops for a very brief moment.

“You coming in?”

“Only if you promise not to touch me,” I call back.

“I promise not to do anything you don’t beg me for.”

Then, he turns around and dips under the water, disappearing under the falls.

I groan aloud, kicking my head back. I’m equal parts relieved and pissed that he couldn’t just make the promise. He’s sending me some seriously mixed signals.

Sighing in resignation, I slide my tank top over my head, unbutton my jean shorts, and let them drop. Thankfully, I’ve learned not to go anywhere without wearing my bathing suit.

I slide my fingers over the fresh tattoo on my thigh. It’s only been a couple of days, and I’m risking infection by getting in the water. But not getting in it and never finding out what will happen behind the waterfall feels worse.

I think the only wise decision I’ll make today is not swinging from a vine. I won't show up the king of the jungle today, although I wish Enzo didn’t disappear so I can ask him if it’s safe to cannonball into the spring. He may have dived, but I also get the feeling he could dive in four feet of water and not even scratch his nose.

Deciding to go for it, I do a running jump, curl into a ball, and slam into the water like a true imbecile. Most girls would probably sashay into the water like they’re in a photo shoot, but my life is too uncertain not to do the things I truly want to do.

Like, seduce the hottest man I’ve ever seen behind a waterfall. I groan again, this time at myself. It took two seconds to talk myself into it, though I already knew I wasn’t going to say no.

I like to lie to myself.

I come up for air long enough to breathe in one big gulp and then dive back under, cutting beneath the waterfall.

It’s so warm in here; it feels like being wrapped in a heated blanket on a cold day. So comforting that it gives you goosebumps.

When I re-emerge, Enzo is sitting on the rock floor at the edge of the pool, one knee kicked up and supporting his arm, and the other still dipped in the water while he waits for me. His body glistens, and one droplet in particular snags my attention, trailing down his defined stomach and toward the waistband of his shorts.

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