Elastic Hearts (Hearts #3)(24)
“Happy thoughts?” she said, her voice flirty. My eyes popped open.
“I was an idiot.”
“So I’ve heard.” She paused. “How long will it take you to draft up the contract?”
“About an hour, maybe less. Why?”
“You told me once that you tried to go surfing every day,” she said. “You still do that?”
“Almost every morning,” I said, smiling at the fact she remembered.
“I want you to teach me. Or try to. I can paddleboard, it shouldn’t be that different, right?”
I chuckled. “Oh, Nicole, you have a lot to learn.”
“Well, then, I’m glad I picked a capable teacher,” she said with a wink as she turned around. “I’m going to put on my bathing suit. Meet you downstairs in an hour?”
“You’re . . .” I shook my head. “Yeah, an hour.”
I spent the next forty minutes drafting up a contract and trying not to picture her getting naked in the room beside mine. Naked. In the room beside mine. Fuck. How was I going to sleep there? Maybe I should head home early. Maybe I should just say f*ck it and get out of there as soon as I prepared the contract. I was good at coming up with excuses. But then I remembered how emotional she’d been on that balcony, and I decided to stay. An hour later, I’d sent her the contract, put on my swimming trunks, and headed downstairs to meet her by the beach. I saw Will on my way over and updated him on everything. When I reached the end of their backyard, and my feet touched the warm sand, I saw her. She was wearing the smallest bikini I’d ever seen, and I was grateful when I saw the wetsuit in her hand that she was about to put on.
“Need help?” I asked as I walked over, when I saw her struggling to stay balanced on one foot. Her head snapped up, lips spread into a smile that promised the kind of trouble I enjoyed getting involved in.
“Considering I just fell on my ass,” she said, pivoting a little to show a back covered in sand. “Yes.”
I chuckled at the sight and gave not checking her out my best effort. When I reached her, she craned her head to look up at me as I extended my arm for her to hold on to as she pushed her foot into one leg of the suit. Our gazes held as she did it, and I was glad for the loud waves feet away from us. Otherwise, she would have heard my loud breathing, and I was sure I would have heard hers. As it was, the heated glances we were giving each other spoke volumes. I couldn’t have her touch me and not think about my hands on hers, her lips on mine. When she finished putting on her suit and zipping it, I thought I’d be out of the woods, since her skin wouldn’t be showing, but the way that thing fit her . . . f*ck. I cleared my throat, looking out into the water.
“The waves aren’t that good today,” I said. “Paddleboarding may be the only option we have right now.”
“That’s fine,” she said, following my gaze. “I think I like that option better anyway.”
We walked over and picked up the boards set against the house and pulled them toward the shore. I jogged back and got the sticks, and on my way back all I could do was look at Nicole and notice the way she seemed contemplative today, not the spunky woman I was used to. We both settled on our boards, but instead of standing, we sat in the water, our legs on either side of each of our boards.
“Can I ask you something?” I asked, clearing my throat as we both faced the endless ocean, our backs toward the houses. She glanced at me momentarily and nodded. “You said the other day that I was the only one you’d ever . . .” I couldn’t bring myself to finish the sentence.
“Had sex with in a bathroom?” she asked, smiling, her eyes assessing me. I nodded. “You are.”
“I know you don’t need a reason to do anything,” I said. “You act on instinct more than anything, but I’m surprised.”
“You think I’m a slut,” she said, but her smile didn’t falter. “It’s a fair assessment. I’m not, but coming from you it’s a fair assessment.”
“I don’t like labels,” I responded. I didn’t. Slut, whore, promiscuous. Those were all labels I’d never understood for men or women. As far as I was concerned, what you did with your body was nobody’s business.
“I know you don’t,” she said, “Mr. I Don’t Want a Girlfriend Ever.”
“That’s not the kind of label I was taking about. I don’t have a problem having a girlfriend.”
She raised an eyebrow and looked away from me, back to the ocean. “Maybe people do change, after all.”
We were silent for a moment, the water moving us in small waves. We watched as a few families played in the shore with their kids, some joggers passed by, birds cawed.
“I’ve never just hooked up with a guy,” she said finally, filling in the comfortable silence we had going. I looked at her. She was looking at me, but I could tell it was taking effort for her to keep her eyes on mine. “In college I used to make out with strangers, but that was as far as I got. Actually hooking up with strangers, though? Never.”
“Why me then?” I asked, suddenly feeling a jolt of confidence. I felt like I needed to pat myself on the back for that achievement. She shrugged.
“If I told you, you’d think I’m crazy, or knowing the way you are, it will send you running the other way,” she said, tearing her eyes away from mine again. My heart began pounding a little louder. Something about the way she said that. Fuck. Maybe I would want to run the other way, but I still wanted to know.