Head Over Feels

“Damn you, Jackson!” Pushing out of the chair, she takes a sharp right and laughs as she starts running down the beach.

The night is quiet, disturbed only by the crackling of the fire and the laughter of our friends in the water. I tug my sweater around me and watch Rad pour another shot of bourbon. There’s something written in his features that I can’t quite name.

Damn champagne.

He sits back in his chair, sipping the amber liquid.

“Are you having fun?” I ask him.

“It’s only slightly disappointing.”

“Why is that?”

A slow, sinful smirk crosses his handsome face. “I was hoping to see you in that body floss.”

I burst out laughing. “Yeah. Right.”

“I was.”

“You’re so flirty.” I laugh, but my cheeks heat anyway. “Must be the bourbon.”

“Maybe it’s the company.” He nods toward the ocean. “We could freeze our asses off in the ocean.”

The flames cast shadows over his face, making his jaw look more angled and his cheekbones higher. Even his lips look more kissable.

“We could go freeze, or you could keep me warm,” I say before I realize that I’m even saying it.

Wasting no time, he moves his chair even closer to mine, and his arm comes around me as if he’d been waiting for the invitation. “You’re flirting now. Must be the champagne.”

“Probably.”

We exchange a smile that simultaneously fills me with warmth and sends a shiver down my spine.

Rad trails his fingertip along the back of my neck, dragging it slowly down my shoulder. He watches me with a satisfied smile on his face.

“I really was hoping to see you in that swimsuit, Bells.”

Emboldened by both the look in his eye and the alcohol, I smirk back at him. “And I was hoping to see you shirtless. Guess we both lose.”

The fire crackles in front of us. It’s as if it spurs Rad to life, and he leans forward. My breath hitches in my throat.

His lips part, but before he can say—or do—anything, Cammie runs from the water.

“I need a hot shower.” She grabs a towel from a chair and keeps running to the house with Cade close behind her.

“Night,” he says.

I look at Rad again, the moment we had now lost.

“I think I’ll head back, too,” I say, climbing to my feet and ignoring the way my stomach clenches. It demands a release to the tension we just built.

If only . . .

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I say, giving him the best smile I can manage under the circumstances and turn toward the house.

“Bells.”

I pretend I don’t hear him and keep walking.

I don’t know what just almost happened between us, but I’m sure it’s fueled by the alcohol.

Just keep walking.

I don’t want to embarrass myself and lose both a place to live and my best friend all in one night.

20

Tealey

A gentle knock on the door has me sitting up in bed. “Yes?”

“You still up?” Rad whispers from the other side of the door.

Not sure what he’s doing here, I push off the bed and answer it, leaning my cheek against the painted wood. “Hi.”

He smiles. “Hi. The day got away from me before I could talk to you.”

“About anything specifically?” My stomach flutters with the butterflies I brought in from the beach.

His gaze drops to our feet. Everything slows when his eyes meet mine again, and he says, “I’ve been thinking about you.”

I lick my lips and swallow as my spine straightens, not wanting to be slouching during such a confession. Gripping the door, I ask, “You have?”

“I have, and I was thinking . . . wondering . . . Well, I haven’t exactly used words to show you what I’m thinking. And I want to change that. I’ve held back in fear of you saying no. But I’ve been thinking about us and the possibility of more. More of us.” He looks down briefly, and if I didn’t know Rad as well as I do, I’d think he was nervous. But then he looks back up with no hesitation. “I want to know if you’ve been thinking about me . . . about us . . . like that as well?”

Do I confess my sin? Tell him how I’ve started to fantasize about him? What turns him on and hoping that damn towel would drop? And that with every touch, cuddle, and smile, I’ve felt more and more attracted to him?

Or do I shut this conversation down and bury my feelings in the sand tomorrow when I go to the beach?

His eyes search mine in earnest, so I say, “I . . .” I take a quick breath and exhale. “I have thought about you. A lot, in fact.” I didn’t know I could shock Rad, but I managed it.

“Really?”

I’ll blame the alcohol tonight for my slippery tongue and deal with the repercussions in the morning. “Terribly naughty thoughts.”