Scandalized

Get in a boat, I think. Live with this man, out there, forever. We could exist solely on granola bars.

At the bottom of the steps, he hangs a left, walking toward a stretch of smooth white sand bordering the rocky, craggy southern boundary of the beach. He walks with purpose, heading, I presume, to a favorite spot. But frankly, we have our pick of spots. It’s only eight thirty; the beach is busy, but not with people looking to set up for the day on the sand; instead, it’s surfers catching the choppy morning waves, couples strolling together, people walking their dogs, joggers. The surf is high, water crashing down with showy bravado, painting staggered half-moons on the wet sand.

We unload against the cliff, in an area that will be shady at midday. After he sets up our chairs, our towels, and the flimsy beach umbrella he bought, he turns to survey our new plot, and I pull my T-shirt off, squirting some sunscreen into my hand to put on my chest and stomach.

It feels quiet, like heavily quiet, and when I look up, Alec’s eyes are on my body. I start to crack a joke about him and my boobs, but his expression is so focused the words evaporate on my tongue. He reaches forward to adjust my necklace where the clasp has slid to the front, but once he’s fixed it, his fingers slow and it feels like everything grows blurry around us as his gaze grows unfocused on my neck.

“What?” I look down, trying to see what he sees. Nothing there but the vague sheen of sunscreen.

“Just thinking,” he says, dragging his touch down over my breastbone, between my breasts.

“Thinking what?”

He exhales slowly. “That I’ve felt you here. That I fucked you here.”

These words light a fire beneath my skin I’m sure he can feel under his fingertips. He angles his fingers down, like he might simply slip his entire hand into the cup of my bikini top, but then makes a fist around the strap instead.

“Okay.” I press my hand to his chest, and he lifts his head. “I think we need some ground rules today. Like…”

He swallows as he waits for me to finish my sentence, and now it’s my turn to be distracted by the long line of his throat. Finally, he prompts, “Like?”

“Well, to start, you can’t say things like that.”

He grins. “I can’t?”

“At least not if we can’t be alone somewhere later.”

He exhales, dropping his chin to his chest before straightening and stepping forward. Alec cages me in the shadows, against the side of the cliff. His body heat warms me all down my front, and I glance to the side. No one is paying any attention to us, but even so, I feel like we’re in a fishbowl.

“What are you doing?” I whisper.

“Thinking.”

“You’re thinking very deep into my personal space.”

“Should I move?”

I lift my hand and rest it on his abdomen. “No. I like it when you invade my personal space.”

He tilts his face up, looking me in the eye. “I’m going to be honest.”

“Good. I like honest.”

“Very blunt, in fact.”

“Even better.” A bluff; my heart is halfway up my throat and out of my body right now.

He licks his lips, studying me. “I’m not a very casual person,” he admits quietly. “I’ve actually never slept with anyone outside of a long-term relationship before. I don’t think I’m very good at it.”

“Okay.” His admission is devastating. This would be so much easier if one of us knew how to navigate something light and temporary.

“I’m afraid I’m going to get attached if we spend another night together.”

He drags his focus from my mouth back up to my eyes.

This, I think. This is what it feels like to fall.

“Well,” I say carefully, “I’m okay with not spending the night together, if that’s what you need.” I reach up, tracing the line of his T-shirt along his collarbone. “But I’m pretty sure at this point it’s going to be hard for me when you go home no matter what we do. And I think it would be harder to know you’re here and not be able to see you than it would be to see you and have to remind myself what it means.”