Long Shot (Hoops 1)

“Grip, yes.” Her hands claw at my shoulders and run up my neck. She dips her head to possess my mouth with hers. Her kiss woos me in the water. Her fingers on my skin are poetry. Her lips, prose. The rhythm of her heart against mine, iambic. Every touch, eloquence.

The current tugs at our bodies as the tide comes in, and clinging to each other, we let the flow take us. With our mouths still fused, legs still tangled, tongues hungry and twisting together, we drift into deeper waters.

Complex and effortless.

My own words come back to haunt me, describing a rapper’s flow. I can’t help but compare it to what’s passing between us in the deep. The unexpected alchemy that’s been flowing between us since the moment we met. It’s layered and complicated, and yet, there’s no struggle, no force. It feels easy. Effortless. It feels so good, I can’t imagine this ending.

“I need to know,” I mumble at the underside of her breast. “What we’re doing, Bristol.”

“What do you mean?” she gasps. “This feels fantastic.”

I slide her down my body and frame her face in my hands.

“Is this like some spring break fling for you?” I ask earnestly.

“Grip, I …” She drops her forehead to my chest, and I would give anything to turn up the wattage on the moon so I could see her face better. So I could see her eyes. “I don’t know.”

It shouldn’t hurt. We shared a few days, a few conversations, and the best kisses of my life. That’s it. That’s all, but last night feels like the best night I’ve ever had. And to think it wasn’t monumental for her or that she’s “deciding” what we’ll be when I feel like the decision was made for me almost as soon as I laid eyes on her, hurts.

“I’m not a casual kind of person.” She sighs, and I can imagine the jaded look on her face. “And there’s a lot that could go wrong. You’re my brother’s best friend. I’m moving here and it could be awk

ward if things … go south.”

“They won’t,” I assure her. “Just give it a chance.”

“What?” She lets out a cynical laugh. “A long-distance relationship?”

“Why not?”

“You’re a player for one thing, Mr. Bees with honey and chocolate. You get bored, you move on, and you probably cheat.”

There’s a question in her voice, and I know this is the moment when I should tell her about Tessa. But I’m having such a hard time even getting her to consider making us an us, and I don’t want to make it any harder by throwing that wrench in the works. I’ll deal with Tessa as soon as Bristol is gone.

“It’d be different with you.” I run a palm over her wet hair. “I know it would be.”

“But I don’t know it would be, and …” I see the shape of her head as she lifts it, shaking it. “Can we take it slow? I don’t want to get hurt, and I think you could hurt me really badly.”

Her answer is soft and honest, and it only makes me want her more.

“We can do that.” I bend to kiss her neck, sucking at the salt-covered skin until she gasps, grinding her hips through the water seeking me. That’s her spot. One of them. She wants to take it slow? I’m willing to take my time finding all the others.

FLOW - Chapter 14

Bristol

TAP, TAP, TAP.

I look up from the suitcase I’m packing. Someone’s knocking on the door of Grady’s guest bedroom. I hastily tuck the cheap whistle Grip won for me at the carnival into the bag and zip it up. When I open the door, Rhyson stands in the hall.

“Can I come in?” His dark hair, always a gorgeous mess, flops into his eyes.

“Sure.” I step back and wave him in, sitting on the bed and waiting to hear what he has to say. We’ve had very little time alone since the night we talked after the club. We spent yesterday with his friends, and he had to go back to the studio last night.

“All packed, huh?” He eyes my huge suitcase.

“Looks that way.” A small, sad smile touches my mouth. “I’ll miss LA. Who’d have thought?”

“Will you miss LA, or will you miss your big brother?” he teases.