Rush Too Far (Rosemary Beach #4)(21)

“OK,” she said, looking almost relieved. Had she been frightened that I wanted more with her? “Can we at least be friends? I don’t want you to hate me. I’d like to be friends,” she said, looking hopeful.

Friends? She thought I could be her friend? I closed my eyes so I couldn’t see her face. So I couldn’t get lost in her eyes. Being her friend wasn’t something I was sure I could do, but I knew I couldn’t tell this girl no. She was under my skin, and I was done for. I opened my eyes and looked at her heartbreaking, beautiful face. “I’ll be your friend. I’ll try my damnedest to be your friend, but I have to be careful. I can’t get too close. You make me want things I can’t have. That sweet little body of yours feels too incredible tucked underneath me,” I said, before lowering my head until my lips brushed against her ear. “And the way you taste. It’s addictive. I dream about it. I fantasize about it. I know you’ll be just as delicious in . . . other places.”

She leaned into me, and her breathing hitched. How was I supposed to be friends with her? She was so tempting.

“We can’t. Fuck me. We can’t. Friends, sweet Blaire. Just friends,” I whispered, then moved away from her and headed for the stairs. Space. We needed space. I was going to touch her if I didn’t get more space.

I reached the stairs, and the idea of her sleeping underneath them sliced through me. It was bothering me more and more every damn day. But how would I move her closer to me? We needed the space. She was safe under there.

“I don’t want you under those damn stairs. I hate it. But I can’t move you up here. I’ll never be able to stay away from you. I need you safely tucked away,” I explained, without looking back at her. I wanted to see if she believed me. I wanted to see her one last time. I wanted . . . more.

I couldn’t. I ran the rest of the way up the stairs and to my room, slamming and locking myself inside. I had to stay away from her.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Grant was meeting me at the gym early this morning. We hadn’t gotten into a routine for our workouts yet this summer, but since I wasn’t sleeping that great, with Blaire haunting my thoughts, I figured I could get to the gym early with Grant before he went to work.

Blaire was still in her room when I pulled out of the driveway that morning, but the sun wasn’t up yet, either. I had to work out some of this aggression. If sex wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, then I would beat my body into submission with the weights. Maybe I could sleep after this.

Grant was waiting for me outside the gym in town. It wasn’t the one at the club, because Grant said that gym was for pussies. Real men worked out at real gyms, according to him. “About time you got here,” he grumbled when I walked up to him.

“Shut up. The sun’s not even up yet,” I replied.

Grant just grinned and took a swig of his bottled water. “You hydrate this morning?” he asked.

“No. I need some coffee. They have that in this place?”

Grant laughed loudly. “It’s a gym, Rush. Not Starbucks. Here,” he said, tossing me a bottle of water from his bag. “You need water right now. Coffee later.”

“I’m not liking your choice of gyms,” I informed him.

“Stop being a girl.”

We worked out for more than two hours before I was allowed some coffee. My lesson had been learned for the future: drink a cup before I leave the house.

“Party tonight?” Grant asked as we stepped outside the gym.

“Where?”

“Your place. Just a few people. You need the distraction from your roommate, and I need an excuse to persuade that friend of Nan’s—Bailey, I think—to visit my bed,” he said.

I winced. “A party at my place isn’t the way to make that happen. I had Bailey over last night. Didn’t end well.”

Grant stopped walking. “What? You didn’t get any? She seemed like a damn sure thing to me. I was sure she’d be all over you.”

“Blaire saw us before it got too heated, and it got screwed up. I sent Bailey home.”

Grant let out a low whistle. “Wow . . . so Blaire caught you, and you sent a girl away,” he said, shaking his head. “Dude. We need a party. We need girls over. Not Bailey, since you already went there, but some new girls. Nan has friends. You need to get your head out of Blaire Wonderland. Can’t happen. You know that.”

I nodded. He was right. It couldn’t happen. “Sure. Whatever. Invite who you want.”

The crowd was small. I was impressed with Grant for keeping it intimate. I kept my eyes toward the door, waiting for Blaire to get home. She wasn’t prepared for guests. She had to be tired after the late night last night. I intended to keep the music down and to keep people off the stairs so she could sleep. I considered letting her sleep in one of the guest bedrooms just for tonight so she could rest. People could be here late. It could get louder.

No. No. I wouldn’t be able to stay away from her. Not a good idea. She had to stay under the stairs. It was safer there. She could sleep; I’d make sure she could.

“Rush!” Grant called from the balcony. I glanced back at the door before heading outside to see what he wanted. I couldn’t stay out there long. I had to get back to watching for Blaire.

“Yeah?” I asked Grant, who was sitting on the lounge chair with a new girl in his lap. He pointed with his beer bottle toward Malcolm Henry. I hadn’t seen him since he had arrived in Rosemary Beach. His parents lived in Seattle, and the last I heard, he was attending Princeton.