Unseen Messages(41)

She panted as I battled with the urge of stealing a kiss or doing what was right and honouring the boundaries of first acquaintance.

I looked up at the tree canopy, exhaling heavily. “You have no idea how hard it is to be a gentleman right now.”

She cleared her throat, trembling a little. “I think you’re delirious with pain.”

I snorted. “Let’s go with that if it makes you feel better.”

“It does. It definitely does.”

“So I shouldn’t tell you that I’m hard and I barely even know you? That I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I saw you in Los Angeles?” I lowered my head, nuzzling behind her ear. “I shouldn’t tell you that I wanted to talk to you the entire flight over or that everything about you makes me happy and sad at the same time?”

The thing with having lacklustre eyesight since birth meant my other senses had heightened to compensate. Her smell (while faint) ripped my innards out and made me want to beg for all manner of things. I wanted her naked. I wanted her laughing. I wanted her far away from me so I never destroyed her perfection.

“Why didn’t you?”

I did my best to concentrate. “Why didn’t I what?”

“Come talk to me? Answer honestly this time.”

I reared back. “You can’t guess?”

She held her breath.

And I did the one thing I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do. I treated her like a damn object.

Tightening my hold on her shoulders, I brought her body in line with mine. The moment her breasts squashed against my chest, I couldn’t breathe and when her lower belly wedged against the aching hard-on in my jeans, it took everything I had not to thrust her against the damn palm tree and forget about civilised rules just so I could have one tiny, delicious taste.

Her eyes widened as she felt what I offered. My hips rolled just a little; my broken ankle growling with torment. “Does that answer your question?”

She struggled to speak which clutched my heart and scrambled my thoughts.

“No, not at all.”

“The answer is because when I want something as bad as I want you, nothing good comes of it.” I chuckled harshly. “I hurt those I love and I have no intention of hurting another.”

We both froze at the ‘L’ word. The depth of connection that came with those four little letters wasn’t something either of us wanted to discuss.

I deliberately angled my hips away, holding her at a distance. I needed her to help me walk, but I wouldn’t force myself on her any more than I had.

What a douche-bag thing to do.

We’d finally broken the ice, and I’d ruined it by sprouting all kinds of idiocy.

I groaned under my breath, passing off my stupidity as pain.

Estelle leapt into action, taking a step forward. “How about we forget what just happened and head to the beach...okay?”

“Fine.”

“Just...let me guide you. Lean on me and use the crutch. I’ll do my best to prevent as much discomfort as I can.”

You’re the cause of most of it.

At least, I managed not to say that out loud.

Nodding, I soundlessly accepted her help. I held her closer than necessary under the guise of using her as transportation. She accepted my closeness without complaint, her fingers tight around my side.

Rearranging the bulbous part of the stick under my arm, I hopped forward hesitantly.

Estelle moved with me, gasping a little as my weight landed then relaxed on her frame.

She didn’t speak, so I didn’t either.

I forced myself to concentrate, not on Estelle and her sexy-perfect strength, but on coordination and the agony of hobbling on an unsupported broken leg.

Shuffle by shuffle, we traded forest for sunshine.

We made our way to the beach that would become our new home.

I just didn’t know how long it would be home for.

If I had known...who knew what I would’ve done differently.





Chapter Fifteen


...............................................

E S T E L L E

......

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me.

How could a stupid petal tell me the heart of another?

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me.

How could I fall for stupid lines stolen from others?

He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me.

I don’t believe in love. I do believe in love.

But not with him.

Taken from the notepad of E.E., aged nineteen.

...

I SWALLOWED MY fears for the billionth time and kept my fake smile in place.

We’re not going to make it.

Yes, yes we are.

I couldn’t cry because Conner and Pippa never stopped watching me.

But it didn’t stop my runaway wretchedness.

Galloway’s eyes were like missiles tracking my every move. My skin still tingled where he’d hugged me to hop through the forest. And I couldn’t stop reliving the pressure of his erection on my lower belly. What possessed him to do such a thing? And why didn’t I mind nearly as much as I should?

For the past hour, we’d split one muesli bar between the four of us and washed it down with two mouthfuls of water from the bottle in Duncan’s backpack. We’d found it when we’d foraged for the other bags, littered like candy wrappers a few metres away from the crash site.