Summer Ever After - Page 26

girl code for: ‘Oh, he didn’t tell you about me? Well, kick his ass later because he probably did something dickish, eh?’

“Well, it was great meeting you and seeing you again, Roman. I’ve got to get back to my babies here. Feel free to stop by after the show, if you want, and I’ll let you feed them.” Aryn ushers in more parents and kids past us and I just want this encounter to end quickly without an international incident.

“Yeah, sure.” I run my hands through my hair. “Maybe another time? We have early dinner plans, but it was nice seeing you,” I mumble and Aryn skips off, yeah skips off, because she is one of those peppy, always happy types of people. I wasn’t in a good head space when I was with Aryn, so I’m reminded of why that relationship didn’t work at the time. I follow after Abby who walks into the small stage area to watch the seal show and finds us seats in the middle of the risers.

“So what’s up with Aryn?”

“Huh?” The whole encounter has left me a little weirded out, especially after running into Sasha this morning at Starbucks.

“Aryn? You know, pretty seal trainer with killer legs, long brown hair, and obvious Canadian accent? That Aryn, we just met.” Abby’s voice has an edge to it, and I think she might be feeling as awkward as I do.

“Oh, Aryn. That, Aryn, right. Well, we dated, I guess.” My male brain is warning me to stick to the facts and not give Abby more details than necessary. I’ve been told girls will run wild with details, and I’m not a total jerk that I want to risk upsetting Abby or disrespect someone who was nice, but all wrong for me. “How do you guess a date? Either you did or didn’t, right?” It’s her lawyer voice I’m coming to learn that questions me.

“It was about two years ago.” I sigh, putting my arm around Abby to gather her closer to me. I’d have put her on my lap, but this was a public place filled with kids and their parents, not to mention Aryn was kind of feeding four, two hundred plus pounds of animals a bucket of dead fish in front of us. Not exactly comforting or romantic. “I saw her for about three, maybe four, months, and then I broke it off. I didn’t feel what I thought I should to keep it going. It was mutual, but I think she was more upset at the time than she let on.” I wish someone could explain to me why honesty burns like acid in the back of one’s throat.

“Oh,” Abby mumbles, and isn’t that single word a telling response.

Chapter Twelve

ABIGAIL

So it isn’t the fact Roman’s dated before me—heck, I came to Gold Beach still in a relationship, or so I had thought. It’s different to actually see this side of Roman up close and personal. I hold his hand during the seal show as we watch Aryn whistle and throw various fish at the large silky seals that eagerly jump and perform on command.

His fingers grazed my hand slowly, reminding me he is here as I delve deeper into my thoughts. She seems like a nice girl, cute and attractive, someone who I could see Roman being interested in if I really thought about it, but I prefer to not think about it too much. I didn’t get that weird chick voodoo, which usually occurs when one or the other is trying to stake a claim on the man. It was nice. Most girls I know, my sister included, are such drama whores. Sometimes, it’s unbelievable the lengths women will go to plant seeds of doubt.

The seal show ends and we wave to Aryn as we leave the seal stadium, deciding to continue walking around a bit more before having an early dinner. Roman keeps his arm around me the entire time like a caveman. I lov—like his arm exactly where it is. Loving other aspects of Roman will come in good time.

We exit the aquarium to a much grayer sky, and I am glad he gave me the scarf to wear when the wind picks up just enough to give me a chill in the late-August air. I miss the climate of L.A., but I will miss Roman more when I have to go back, which is something I’m not too eager to discuss with him. I’ve been avoiding the reality of my decision for as long as possible, and I need to figure this out. But first, I have another entirely inappropriate question looming in my mind…

“So, Roman, did Aryn ever make those seal sounds, you know, in bed?” He stops walking and looks at me like I’m crazy before giving me a twisted little smirk and pulling me in closer, anchoring his arms around me so I can’t escape.

“No, Abigail, she did not.” He emphasizes the syllables of my name, looking into my eyes. Ugh, his eyes keep me trapped and thinking about what the rest of him would do to me if we weren’t on this busy sidewalk. Heat burns through me and I know we’re both somehow envisioning naughty things. Tentatively, his hand reaches up and slides a loose piece of hair behind my ear before he speaks again. “However, I’ll never think of a seal whistle quite the same way again.” He smiles and my thoughts drift toward choking him in his sleep.

I wiggle out of his grasp and walk on, taunting him over my shoulder. “So you like to play on command?”

I take two sashaying steps forward before Roman grabs my arm, tugging me back to slam up against his chest, my breath whooshes from my body. Something simmers below the surface and radiates from his broad chest and the strain of muscles he holds in check. Growling, he reminds me of what it’s like to be alone in the bedroom with Roman behind closed doors. “Negative, Abigail. Have you forgotten who gives the commands?” I shiver from my head to my feet. It’s not the cool Seattle mist or the breeze from the water that makes it happen, and we both know that. I adoringly want to choke him.

I settle for playfully punching him in the arm instead. “Ugh, men are pigs,” I mumble under my breath and walking away.

“That’s assault, counselor,” Roman mocks me.

“Prove it,” I retort, mouthing him right back.

ROMAN

Waking up, arching my back, I find Abigail resting her head on my chest, a small hand under her cheek. Her scrunched up face is pink from sleep and beautiful. Blonde hair tickles my bare chest, and I take a few of the strands between my fingers and rub them together, testing their color and silky texture. We’ve stayed in the past few days avoiding the rain and the outside world all together, ordering takeout and enjoying each other’s company. Now I want to take her to see my boats and maybe get her to invest a little more of her heart in mine.

As I’m enjoying the quite space of time, her phone begins ringing with a low tone. It’s not enough to wake her, but enough that I give in to temptation and pick it up from the nightstand, slipping the charging cord out so I can hold it up. Reading it, it says incoming call from first name: ‘Ex-Lucas the Loser’ and last name: ‘Unfortunate Co-worker.’ I’m glad Abby has a sense of humor. I let it go to voicemail before I scan her call log. Several calls from Lucas show up over the last few days, none picked up or returned. I also notice her dad has called just as many if not more times, again none answered or returned.

My LA girl is avoiding the reality just as much as I am. A part of me wonders how long we can keep this going. I promise myself to make her answer the next call that comes in so we can figure out what we’re doing, as much as I hate that. I put the phone down and go back to watching her sleep. This could be the last bit of peace we have together in our cocoon.

“Mmmph…” Abby grumbles a mostly unintelligible something.

“Wake up, beach bum.” I pinch her hip softly.

“That’s Hollywood to you.” Her eyes open, still filled with a sleepy smirk, and she stretches up to meet me. Without words, she’s crawling up my body, breasts slipping from her strappy tank top and panties slipping off her hips with each rise and kick of her leg under the covers. She takes my lips hungrily, and I encourage her by helping the clothes vanish between us. Our passions equal, and it’s another reason this girl is so well matched to me. God, I want her to stay in Seattle. I can’t bear for her to go back to LA. If I can keep our little bubble a bit longer, I know I can convince her to make the decision on her own. Our tongues play, rolling and slipping deeper together. I nip her bottom lip to get her attention and move my hand to her free breast, squeezing just enough to get a groaning whimper from her. She’s going to be pissed I got her undressed just to get her in clean clothes so we can go out. I pull her off me to give her the news.

“Today is boat day.” I peck her mouth again and hold her still to keep her from launching back into my lap, despite how much my dick would love to make contact with her sweet tight center riding me dry.

Tags: M.C. Cerny Romance
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