The Wrong Mr. Right (The Queen's Cove Series #2)(44)

You’re going to come home, crawl into bed, and touch yourself until you come.

His low words echoed in my head. I shivered and turned.

God damn, he was hot. Even when he was still sleepy, and his hair was a bit messy. His eyes shone bright, his skin glowed with a tan, his mouth was fascinating, and the sight of him set off a series of sparks in me.

I totally had the hots for Wyatt Rhodes.

I swallowed and lifted my eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

He gestured to the back room, where they kept extra inventory. “Got you your own.”

Until now, I had been using one of the suits the shop rented to tourists taking surf lessons. The fit wasn’t great. It was too long in the arms and legs, so I rolled the cuffs up. The mid-section was bulky and the zipper always snagged, but I didn’t know any different, and I didn’t want to complain, so I made do.

A new wetsuit hung in the back room, tags still on. The suit was shorter and way, way nicer. The spongey Neoprene was smooth, and the logo on the front wasn’t a brand carried in the shop. I ran my fingers over it.

“This is my suit?”

He nodded, the corner of his mouth ticking up.

“You didn’t have to do this.” I glanced at him, leaning against the wall, looking so casual and nonchalant. Apathetic, even. “I don’t mind wearing the suit I usually wear.”

“That suit sucks. You’ve graduated past it.” A smile lifted on his mouth. “Too many people have peed in that suit.”

A horrified laugh burst out of me. “No! What?”

He nodded and winced. “Oh, yeah.” He shrugged. “Now you can be the only person to pee in this suit.”

I dissolved into laughter, shaking my head. “I would never.”

His eyes sparkled. “It’s fine, bookworm. You don’t have to lie to me. Besides,” he added, “you’ve been doing great lately. With everything.”

Delight pitched in my chest at his praise and we smiled at each other.

I thought about our kiss for the millionth time.

His mouth against mine, the noise he made when his tongue stroked against mine, his hard chest under my hands. His hand in my hair, taking control and tipping my head back.

His gaze dropped to my lips. Something zinged in me, an ache between my legs.

“We should talk about the other night.” He was still staring at my mouth, gaze intense.

I swallowed and nodded.

“I shouldn’t have done that.” He raked a hand through his hair and I remembered tugging on it, and the sound of pleasure in his throat.

Wait, what?

“Why not?”

He winced. “I’m not supposed to be—” He gestured between us. “This isn’t that.”

I deflated like a balloon with a hole in it. A slow, pathetic sink.

Wyatt regretted kissing me.

I chewed the inside of my lip and stared at the floor. My face heated, and I knew a blush creeped down my neck. Wyatt was still the hot guy from high school and I was the shy, invisible girl standing on the sidelines. The nerd in the bookstore. Of course he didn’t want to get involved that way with me.

I crossed my arms over my chest. My stomach tightened and I frowned but tried to erase it. The only thing more embarrassing than Wyatt regretting making out with me would be him pitying me.

“Bookworm?”

I blinked up at him as he leaned on the wall beside us. He watched me with curiosity, with something else behind it I couldn’t place.

I thought about him in my bedroom. He had said it himself, he couldn’t stay away. He couldn’t stop thinking about me that day.

Because I had a date with Beck. So he was jealous because someone else was playing with his toy.

I blew a frustrated breath out of my nose. “I don’t have any grand delusions, you know.”

He frowned. “What?”

I shrugged. “It’s not like I think you and I are going to get married on the beach and skip off into the sunset holding hands.” I rolled my eyes and pulled my shirt over my head. I already had my swimsuit on underneath.

Wyatt’s gaze dropped to my chest. His jaw ticked. He turned around and crossed his arms.

And that is how I knew he wanted to kiss me again. Because when we started surf lessons? He didn’t react like this.

A zap of that boldness hit me, the same feeling when I was about to jump up on my board when the wave was right behind me. The same feeling when I reached out the artist about the mural. The same feeling when I lifted up onto my tip toes the other night and kissed Wyatt.

Wyatt wanted me as much as I wanted him, but something held him back.

I wasn’t going to make it easy on him.

I slipped off my shorts. “I needed someone to practice with.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, still facing the other way. “Is that a new swimsuit?”

“Yes. Don’t change the subject.” I had seen the two-piece in the window of a shop in town targeted towards tourists with overpriced swimsuits, flip flops, and beach bags with Queen’s Cove stamped all over them. The green palm print was so pretty, fun, and summery that I made an impulse purchase.

And it pushed my boobs up. It showed off my stomach, which had developed a hint of abs over the past few weeks from surfing and trying to balance on my board. I wanted to look cute. Not for Wyatt. For myself.