Текст книги "Some Sort of Happy"
Автор книги: Melanie Harlow
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
“Double ouch. And the ring was still on her finger at this point?”
“Until she took it off and threw it at me.”
“How’s her aim?”
That actually brought half a smile. “Shitty.”
“Guess it wasn’t meant to be, then,” I said, trying to look on the bright side.
“No, it wasn’t. Sometimes I’m surprised she lasted as long as she did.”
I wondered what he meant by that. “Because of the OCD, you mean?”
“Yeah.” His tone had gone darker. “But there were other problems too. I’ve been told I don’t communicate well. Also that I’m stubborn, unpredictable, and a real dick when I want to be.”
My eyebrows shot up. “Wow. That’s quite a list. And she still said yes when you proposed, huh?” Feeling this moment could use some levity, I leaned over and gave his leg a smack. “You must be dynamite in the sack.”
His shoulders relaxed as he cracked a smile. “That list wasn’t all from her,” he said, turning onto a gravel drive that led through the woods. “But come to think of it, I’ve never had any complaints about my sexual prowess.”
“Good to know.” I wanted to keep flirting, but just then the cabin appeared through a clearing, and I gasped. “Sebastian, it’s beautiful!”
“Thanks.” He parked on a gravel drive that looped in front of the house, and I got out of the truck and shut the door behind me. It was so quiet, all I heard were birds and the breeze rustling the leaves on the birch trees.
“Oh my god!” I squealed, clasping my hands beneath my chin. “Look at your cute front porch!” Two wooden rocking chairs sat facing the woods. Two, I thought. Was he eventually thinking he’d share the place with someone? Or did he really just hate the number one?
“Yeah, I like to sit out there in the morning, watch the sun rise while I have coffee.” He went up the steps and unlocked the front door.
“Sunrise?” I winced, following him inside. “I’m more of a sunset sort of girl. The sun rises too early for me.”
He laughed. “Then you’ll like the patio in the back. You could watch the sun set over the bay.”
“Perfect. Show me.”
He took me through the cabin first, apologizing for its lack of furniture and decoration. True, it was a bit sparse, but it had a rustic, masculine beauty about it that just needed a little touch of feminine texture and color. I loved everything he’d done so far, from the floors to the counters to the bathroom tile, and the whole place smelled amazing—like lemon and cedar and Tide. He probably cleaned it constantly because of his OCD. Was it wrong that it sort of turned me on?
“You’ve done a great job, Sebastian. You should be really proud. What’s up there?” I gestured to the ladder leaning on the wall between the kitchen and bath. “Bedroom?”
“Just a loft. But it’s nice. You’ve got to watch your head up there because of the sloping walls—well, I do,” he teased, looking down at me. “But there is a nice big skylight.”
I started to climb, looking over my shoulder. “Mind if I go up?”
Good fucking God.
She was climbing the ladder to my bedroom and her ass was right in front of my face. My cock began to stiffen.
Sweet Jesus, could I please go ten minutes without getting an erection around her?
I’d hardly slept last night because I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and I’d woken up this morning (hard) with her still on my mind, and even though I’d told myself a million times not to go looking for her today, I hadn’t been able to resist. I just want to be around her, I told the doomsayer in me before he could go on the offensive. I won’t touch her. I just like seeing her smile, hearing her chattering bird voice, making her laugh.
“Go ahead,” I told her. “I’ll wait down here.”
She looked down at me with playful eyes, making my heart pump harder. “You can come up too, silly. I don’t think you’re going to try anything.”
Oh no? You should feel my dick right now. “It’s pretty small up there.”
“It’s not small, it’s cozy,” she said, reaching the top. “Get up here.” She moved deeper into the loft so I couldn’t see her anymore, and I quickly adjusted myself before climbing up after her.
When I reached the top, she was standing in front of the huge, sloping window opposite my bed. “You have a family of cardinals,” she said.
“I know. They’re noisy in the morning.” I stood next to her and looked out. Goddamn it, I could smell her. Mostly it was the varnish remover she’d been using, but there was a hint of something sweet and floral beneath it—I fucking loved that she was girlish and feminine but not afraid to work with her hands.
“I thought you were up before the sun, mister coffee-on-the-porch-before-dawn.” She poked me in the ribs, sending a jolt through my veins that seemed to go straight to my cock, and that part of my anatomy didn’t need any more encouragement right now. I moved away from her a little, and she giggled. “What, are you ticklish? Huh? Huh?” She started poking me over and over again, in the ribs, on my stomach, on my chest.
“Goddamit, Skylar, knock it off.” I tried to back away but she followed me, poking at me everywhere. “Quit touching me.”
“I know, I’m handsy, aren’t I?” She stopped and held up her palms toward me. “But they’re clean, I swear.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I snapped. I knew she’d been joking but her comment was a good reminder that girls like her didn’t belong with creeps like me. I didn’t need the voice to tell me that.
“OK, OK. Relax.” She dropped her hands to her sides, the light leaving her eyes. “Sorry. I was just playing with you. Friends do that, you know.”
“I know what friends do,” I said angrily. “I have had friends before, Skylar, I’m not a total fucking loser anymore, despite what you might remember.” But my tone was anything but friendly, and I hated myself for it. It wasn’t her I was mad at. Yet I went on. “Although you didn’t even remember my face, so you probably don’t recall anything else about me either. I didn’t exist for people like you, did I?”
Shaking her head, she backed away from me. “Jeez, you can be an asshole out of nowhere.”
“I’ll add that to the list.”
She climbed down the ladder without looking at me.
I let her go, sinking onto my bed. Knees splayed, I propped my elbows on my legs and took my head in my hands. Fuck. FUCK. I was an asshole out of nowhere. But she didn’t understand what it felt like to want someone so badly and be terrified to touch her. How was I supposed to deal with my feelings for her when I couldn’t even handle the thoughts in my own head? My heart was telling me to go after her, but my head wouldn’t fucking let me.
But she didn’t know any of that. She just knew that I was perfectly friendly one minute and a jerk-off the next.
I heard the front door open and close and thought I wouldn’t blame her if she took off in the truck. Dragging my feet, I climbed down the ladder and went to find her.
She wasn’t on the porch or in the truck, and I stood still for a second, rubbing my face with my hands, weighed down by guilt and regret. What had I done? Where had she gone? Had it been the back door I heard? I walked around the side of the cabin and looked around. She wasn’t on the patio or back steps, and I didn’t see her on the dock either. Frowning, I turned and looked back at the driveway, which snaked through the woods. I hoped she hadn’t taken off on foot. Oh God. What did I do? I was just about to get in the truck and go find her when I heard her voice.
“I’m over here. In the hammock.”
Relief washed over me. I looked over to my left and saw her sitting in the hammock, her feet dangling. Slowly, I made my way over to her. My chest hurt when I saw the downtrodden expression on her face. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she repeated tonelessly, staring at the patio.
I nudged one of her sneakers. “Room for two on there?”
“I’ll get off.” She started to get up, but I put a hand on her shoulder.
“No, don’t. Can I sit with you?”
She shrugged, but she sat back and let me lower myself onto the thick woven ropes next to her. My heart beat quicker at her nearness, at the warmth of her leg against mine, at the scent of her hair. I wanted to touch her so badly, hold her close and apologize, ask for another chance. But I couldn’t.
We sat in silence for a moment, and I waited for the voice in my head to start in with all the horrible calamities that could befall her from sharing a hammock with me. But I heard nothing but the birds and the water. Apologize, asshole. You hurt her feelings.
“I’m sorry, Skylar.” I slid my hands up and down the tops of my own legs to keep them off hers. “I shouldn’t have been short with you.”
“Whatever. It’s fine.” Her voice was flat. She still wouldn’t look at me.
“No, it’s not.” I decided right there to tell her the truth. It was either that or leave her alone forever, and I couldn’t bear that thought. “I’m angry with myself and I took it out on you.”
“What are you angry about?”
“Lots of things, but mostly that I don’t trust myself around you.” I curled my fingers into fists.
“What? That’s silly.” Her tone had lightened a little.
“But it’s the truth. It’s my truth, anyway. And it makes me push you away. ”
“It doesn’t matter that I trust you?”
“It’s not that it doesn’t matter, Skylar. It does, and I appreciate it.” A warm breeze blew in off the water, and I closed my eyes a second. “What you did upstairs, make a joke…that’s actually good for me.”
“It is?”
“Yes. Ken, my therapist, would have taken your side and told me to lighten up.”
She frowned. “That doesn’t sound very nice. You can’t help the way you are.”
Now she was defending me. So fucking adorable. “No, I can’t. But I wish I could. I wish I were different.” I looked down at her, and those wide blue eyes pulled another truth from me. “Especially where you’re concerned.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want you to be different, Sebastian. I like you, even though you’re moody as fuck.”
I laughed—that was as apt a description of me as I’d ever heard.
“And I understand that you need time to feel comfortable around me.”
“Thank you.” I braved putting my hand on the top of her thigh. Her skin was warm and smooth beneath my palm.
She looked at my hand on her leg, started to say something, and stopped herself.
“What?” I asked.
“I’m just wondering…” She fidgeted, looking up at me through her lashes. “I mean… God, this is so embarrassing. I guess I’m wondering if you’re even attracted to me. Part of me says not to flirt with you because you just need a friend right now, and another part says I can’t help it, because I really like you.”
Christ, was she serious? She thought I didn’t want her that way? “Well, part of me says I spent the entire second half of dinner last night trying not to think about fucking you. And failing. Does that answer your question?”
She gasped, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes danced with shocked delight, and I wished I could keep going, tell her all the things I wanted to do to her, just to keep that happy, stunned look on her face.
“But you were right—I do need time.”
“OK,” she finally managed.
We sat there for a few minutes in silence, and I gently rocked the hammock forward and back. Eventually, her head tilted toward me, and she rested it against my arm, making me smile. This I could handle. This was the sort of pure, peaceful moment I desperately needed to feel like myself. A sense of calm pervaded me, and I breathed deeply, allowing the woodsy air to fill my lungs. Skylar’s breathing was deep and even too, and a moment later I realized she’d fallen asleep.
Testing myself, I lowered my lips to her head and gently pressed them to her hair.
No voice. Just stillness and peace.
Flooded with gratitude, I inhaled the sweet floral scent of her shampoo before closing my eyes.
It might not have been the nap fantasy I’d had last night, but it was a damn good start.
Maybe there was hope for me.
Hope for us.
I woke up leisurely, completely comfortable. Next to me, Sebastian’s breathing was slow and steady, so I figured he’d fallen asleep too. There was something so nice about falling asleep next to someone you liked—it was intimate without being sexual, which was exactly what we needed.
Well, it’s what he needed. I was up for letting things get sexy right here in this hammock. My insides warmed when I thought of the way he’d said he wanted to let me in, and they went molten when I recalled him saying he’d thought about fucking me all night. He could go from one extreme to the other so quickly. What would he be like as a lover? Sweet and tender? Rough and demanding?
And that body. My God.
My belly flipped as I let my eyes sweep over his abs and crotch and legs, and heat tingled between my thighs. I could stretch and brush my hand right there…
Stop it. You just agreed to give him time, and it’s probably been about twenty minutes.
Right. He probably meant more time than that.
Just then his hand twitched on my leg, and his breathing altered. “Mmm. Did I fall asleep?”
“Yes. But I don’t blame you. It’s so quiet and peaceful here, I fell asleep too. In fact, I could go back to sleep.” I closed my eyes, not wanting him to move yet. He trailed one finger up my thigh, sending gooseflesh rippling across my skin. God, I wanted his hands on me so badly. How long would I have to wait?
He patted my knee and got up. “I’m going to put those chairs together.”
Sighing, I watched him walk over to the two big boxes on the patio. Then I stretched out on my side in the hammock, tucking my hands beneath my face. Guess I’d have to wait a little longer, although I could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching Sebastian perform manual labor outside in the heat, arm muscles flexing. I was dreamily watching him finish up the first chair when he asked if I was awake.
“Yes, just enjoying the view.”
He flashed a quick grin at me as he set the drill aside. “You said something last night I’m curious about.”
“What was it?”
“You mentioned how the voice in your head tells you you’re a failure.”
“Oh, that.” I frowned. “Yeah, it does. All the time.”
He started working on the second chair. “Why?”
Between short bursts of noise from the drill, I opened up about how I felt kind of lost at this point in my life, about how ashamed I was that I’d failed to make it as an actress, and about how my sisters’ success only served to make me feel worse. “I feel horrible saying that,” I admitted. “I’m so proud of them and I’m happy they’re so good at what they do. It’s not like I begrudge them their success. I just feel bad about my lack of it.”
“But if Natalie’s business hadn’t done well, would you have called her a failure?”
“No, of course not.”
“Well, then?”
I frowned. “That’s different. That was a business. My failure feels more personal. And yet it was totally public. Add to that I got fired from the only job I’ve ever really liked and the fact that my mother told me to get a fucking life this morning!” Frustration tightened my throat, and I willed myself not to cry and spoil this nice afternoon.
“Your mother said that to you?” Sebastian stood up and looked at me with concern.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears. “She didn’t say it like that. She just pressured me about getting a real job. She knows working for Natalie is only a short-term thing. But I’m not good enough at anything to make finding a new job easy, and I have no college degree and nothing interesting or unique to put on a resume.”
“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “You could be good at anything. You just have to decide what you want.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I blustered, sitting up swiftly and nearly toppling backward out of the hammock. “I feel like I’ve been impersonating some version of myself for so long, I don’t even know who I am anymore!” To my dismay, I burst into tears, and I was so embarrassed I jumped out of the hammock and ran down toward the dock, where I put my face into my hands and sobbed.
I heard footsteps behind me, and then felt Sebastian’s hand on my shoulder as he turned me into his arms. “Hey, you. Come here.”
His chest was warm and solid, and I collapsed against him, crying into my palms. He rubbed my back and trembling shoulders, shushing me gently.
“Here I thought it was my anxiety I’d struggle with today,” he said after a few minutes. “But you’re a mess.”
I half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Thanks.”
“How much of this is because of that stupid reunion on Saturday?”
“I don’t know. Some of it, I guess.” I took a few hitching breaths, trying to calm down.
“You should blow it off. I think it’s making you feel worse.”
“I know it is. But I have to go. I said I’d help with decorations.” I looked up at him with tearful eyes. “Would you come with me? Please? Just as friends,” I said quickly. “I won’t try anything.”
He smiled but shook his head. “I really can’t, Skylar. It would serve no purpose and just dredge up painful memories. Nothing about high school was good for me.”
Nodding sadly, I wiped my eyes and sniffed. “I understand.”
“Need a tissue?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on. Let’s go find some in the house, and then after I finish the chairs, we’ll go do something fun. How does that sound?”
“Good.” I sniffed again, wondering what his idea of fun was. Algebra? Sudoku? “What’ll we do?”
“I don’t know. Want to go buy a canoe?
I couldn’t help smiling a little, it was so random. “A canoe?”
“Yeah, I’ve been wanting one. Or maybe a rowboat. You can help me decide.”
“All right.”
“Then we’ll bring it back here and take it out on the water if it’s calm enough. How does that sound?”
“Good.”
“Can you paddle a canoe?”
I nodded. “I’m good at it, actually.”
He elbowed me as we walked toward the cabin. “And you said you’ve got nothing for your resume.”
I laughed, my spirits lifting.
• • •
We compared prices of canoes and rowboats at the sporting goods store, but Sebastian seemed less worried about price than he was about buying the perfect boat. He ended up buying a beautiful wooden rowboat plus some oars and an anchor, and the total cost was so high it made me wonder where his money came from. He’d said he worked part-time for his dad, but was that enough to live on, build and furnish that cabin, and have money for luxuries like a boat? Once everything was loaded in the truck and we were on our way back to the cabin, I had to ask.
“So this might be none of my business, and you can tell me to piss off, but without a full-time job, how do you live?” I asked, sucking on the honey stick he’d bought me at the counter. I never could resist those things.
“I have some investment income.” He ran a hand over the scruff on his jaw before going on. “My mother’s family had money. Old money. My father had no interest in it, so after she died, he and her parents set aside an inheritance for each of her children. I used some for law school and some to rebuild the cabin, but the rest is invested. I don’t like to touch it, but I have used some of the interest to live on over the last year.”
“Oh.” I wondered if his mother’s death was too painful to talk about. “Were you close to your mom?”
He nodded before taking a deep breath. “I was only eight when she died. As painful as the last year of my life has been, it doesn’t come close to that loss. Nothing ever will.” His voice broke a little, and my heart did too.
“It’s a good thing we’re driving because I really want to hug you right now and I can’t.”
He gave me a threatening look. “You stay in that seatbelt.”
I winked at him. “For now.”
We drove in silence for a few minutes, and when we passed Chateau Rivard I couldn’t resist flipping Miranda Rivard the bird again, even though she couldn’t see it. Sebastian laughed.
“Sorry,” I said, although I wasn’t really.
“That’s OK. I did a lot worse after I got fired.”
“The worst thing was that I actually liked that job. Doing tastings, giving tours of the chateau and vineyard, talking to people about the wines and the area. I had some ideas for the place too.”
He glanced at me. “What kind of ideas?”
“Design ideas. I wanted to modernize the place a little, but there was resistance, and I wasn’t there long enough to convince them.”
“Maybe you’d like something in marketing or PR, then.”
“Maybe.” A little hope bubbled up inside of me, although marketing and PR sounded like something I’d need a degree for. “But I don’t have any real experience or skills. I just know what looks nice. Or at least what I think looks nice.”
“Skylar, anyone who meets you knows you have good taste. I think you’d be great at a job like that. You just need to market yourself confidently and find the right one.”
Pleasure swelled inside me at his compliments, at his confidence in me. I wished I had it in myself. “Thanks. I’ll give it some thought.”
When we reached the cabin, we hauled the boat down to the dock and put it in the water. It was late afternoon but the sun was still high in the sky, and air was hot and still, just a slight breeze off the bay. I wiped the sweat from my forehead with my arm while Sebastian tied the boat to the dock.
“I wish I’d have grabbed my bathing suit. The water looks good.”
He looked up at me with a doubtful smile. “You’d swim? It’s a warm day, but the water’s still pretty cold.”
I lifted my chin. “I’m a brave little toaster. Hey, do you have any sunscreen?”
He straightened up. “Yes. Bathroom drawer on the bottom right.”
“Thanks.” Inside, I fought the urge to rifle through Sebastian’s entire bathroom cabinet to learn more about him. I opened only the bottom right drawer, which was very neat and contained sunscreen, shaving cream, razors, and bar soap. Using the mirror over the sink, I applied some SPF 30 to my face, arms, and legs, and brought it outside with me to offer some to Sebastian.
Oh fuck. He took off his shirt.
My belly backhandspringed repeatedly as I approached the dock, where he was loading the paddles into the boat. Natalie hadn’t exaggerated; Sebastian was ripped. He was tall and slender, so it wasn’t an obnoxious sort of ripped, but the curves and lines on his body made my breath come faster. His skin was as beautiful as his bone structure—golden and smooth.
“Want some of this?” I asked, holding up the sunscreen. Or some of this? I thought, refraining from patting my ass.
“Nah. I don’t mind the sun.”
“Sebastian! You have great skin. You should be nicer to it. Here, let me.” Hahaha, fucking genius! Hiding a smile, I flipped the lid and squirted some into my hand. “Turn around.”
He sighed, but did as I requested, and I put my hands on his upper back. Biting my lip, I slowly rubbed the sunscreen into his skin, sliding my palms across his broad shoulders and along the back of his neck. I stayed well away from the waistband of his faded red shorts, but I did notice his blue plaid boxers peeking out above it. My stomach contracted.
“OK. Front.”
Slowly, he turned to face me, and I swear I was just going to offer him the tube to do it himself, but the combination of his face and those glasses and the stubbled jaw and the sculpted chest and the abs—THE ABS—overpowered me. I nearly moaned aloud, imagining how those muscles would flex as he moved above me.
Gahhhhhh, don’t touch him, Skylar. He doesn’t want it.
But…but abs.
Right. If he said no, he said no.
“Want me to do it?” I asked brightly.
He hesitated. “OK.”
FAHK.
Trying to control my racing pulse, I squirted some more sunscreen into my palms and rubbed them together. Then I put them on his chest.
And left them there.
Awestruck, I stared at my hands on his sun-warmed chest. Bits and pieces of me tightened and tingled.
“I think you’re supposed to rub it in.” His tone was amused.
Honey, I’ll rub anything you want me to.
Slowly I began to move my hands in lazy circles on his pectacular chest. When it was absorbed, I slid my hands lower without bothering to put more sunscreen on them. The hard ridges of his abdominal muscles rippled beneath my fingers, and I slid them back and forth along the furrows.
Yes. I fingered his furrows.
“Wow.” My voice cracked, and I swallowed. “You must do a lot of crunches.”
He chuckled, and the muscles twitched beneath my palms, shooting pure lust through my veins.
Oh, God. If it was any other guy, I’d have slipped a hand between his legs right then and there. But Sebastian was different, and I didn’t want to ruin this by moving too fast. Last time I’d gotten touchy-feely with him, he’d panicked.
But he was still now. Too still, maybe.
I looked up at him. “Is this OK?”