By the Book (Meant to Be #2)(72)

Beau pushed the notebook back across the table to her.

“That’s smart,” he said. “You’re so good at this.”

Her cheeks got warm as she stood up. “Thanks,” she said. “But it’s just—”

“It’s not just anything,” he said. “It’s just you, being good at this.”

Maybe she needed to learn how to take a compliment. She hadn’t had many opportunities to do so in the past few years.

They walked out of the library together. As soon as they stepped over the threshold, Beau turned to her and slowly backed her up against the wall.

“We aren’t in the library anymore,” he said.

She fought back a smile as she looked up at him. “You’re right,” she said. “We aren’t.”

He put his hand on the curve of her waist and moved his thumb slowly up and down.

“Do you know what that means?” he asked her.

“What does it mean?”

He propped his other hand against the wall, trapping her there with him. But there was nowhere she’d rather be.

“That I can do this.” And then he bent down and kissed her. It was long, and slow, and gentle, but full of heat. He kept himself at a distance, and when she reached for him, tried to pull him closer to her, he stayed right where he was. She could feel him smile against her lips, but he just kept kissing her slowly, until she felt like she might go wild. After a long time, he pulled away and looked at her, that smile still on his face.

“Meet you by the pool?” he asked.

She breathed in hard. “The pool.” Why did he…Oh right, that was their plan for the afternoon. “Yes. Meet you there in a few minutes. I’ll just go change.”

She ran up the stairs to her room, still dazed after that kiss. He’d known it, too, the jerk. She smiled as she walked into her room.

She reached for a sundress to change into and then remembered something. In a fit of optimism, or courage, after Marta had said she could stay longer, she’d ordered a bikini online. She’d tried it on when it arrived on Friday; it was blue-and-white striped, and she thought she looked cute in it. But did she feel comfortable enough in it—and comfortable enough with Beau—to wear it today? He usually dated models and actresses, after all. No, maybe she shouldn’t wear it.

And then she heard Priya’s voice in her ear.

“WEAR THE BIKINI!!!”

Izzy laughed out loud. “Fine, Priya, you win. I’ll do it.”

She felt like she had to obey invisible Priya, since she hadn’t told her about yesterday with Beau. She wanted to—she’d almost texted her last night, after she got back up to her room. But everything with Beau felt so good right now, so perfect, almost magic. It felt like telling someone, anyone, about it might break the spell.

Beau wasn’t there when she got out to the pool. The rose garden was just beyond the pool, and the roses were starting to bloom—she could smell them all the way over here. She set up one of the pool chairs so it reclined at just the right angle and leaned back. A few minutes later, he came outside, a bag in one hand and two towels draped over his shoulder.

“I thought we might get peckish out here,” he said. “So I brought a few snacks.”

He pulled out a bowl, which he set on the table next to Izzy. Then he took out a bag of chips, which he poured into the bowl. And then he took out a jar of salsa, which he poured into another bowl.

“You know,” Izzy said. “One of the things I’ve always liked about you is your commitment to snacks.”

He grinned at her as he took bottles of Topo Chico out of the bag. “Can you believe I was just thinking the same thing about you?”

He draped one towel over the back of her chair and another over the back of the chair next to hers. “I’m going to swim a few laps before I snack. Be right back.”

Izzy watched him walk to the pool and get in. And then she just stared, as his arms cut through the water, as those muscles in his back flexed. This time, she didn’t have to pretend to look away.

She looked down at her dress. She was nervous, so nervous, about wearing the bikini. But she knew, somewhere in New York City, Priya was shouting at her to take the dress off without even knowing why. So she pulled it over her head and sat there, on the lounge chair, in the bikini.

She looked down at her e-reader and tried and failed to concentrate on this manuscript. Eventually, Beau pulled himself out of the water and turned toward her. And then he stopped, slowly walked over to her.

He stood above her and blocked out the sun as his hair dripped onto her legs. She looked up at him.

“You said that you didn’t have a swimming suit here,” he said, an accusatory tone in his voice. “Isn’t that why we had to get you one for surfing?”

“I didn’t,” she said. “Then.”

His eyes raked over her body. God, did that look on his face make her feel good.

“Well.” He sat down across from her, still staring at her. “Wherever you got that from, God bless them, that’s all I have to say.”

She laughed, half in joy, half in sheer relief. “Oh, do you like it?” she asked.

“Do I like it? I have a feeling that you know exactly how much I like it,” he said.

Her smile got wider. “You’re welcome to tell me, though.”