My reason for taking off this evening was simple. I needed air. Fresh air that didn't smell like her or taste like her. I couldn't look at her in that red bikini after I was friend-zoned.
I stood on that beach, with my eyes cast to the sand as she dipped her toes in the Atlantic for the first time. Then I returned the call of a woman I only see twice a year. When she proposed a drink, I suggested a place.
"What's eating you up?" I ask because she sure as hell isn't going to offer.
She keeps her emotions in a safe locked as tightly as my own.
"Nothing," she spits out the expected answer with a pout of her pink lips. "I had a bad dream."
"About what?" I push because I can smell bullshit a mile away and her response reeks.
She searches the air around us with her eyes for an answer. "I can't remember."
"What is eating you up?" I repeat my initial question. "Don't bullshit me, Adley."
She fidgets on her feet, her tits bouncing under the thin fabric of the tank top she has on. "I can't remember."
I inch forward, closing the space between us. "As we established, yet again this afternoon, we are friends. I'm the type of guy who doesn't like to see his friends all torn up, so if you want me to repeat the question again, I will and if you continue to offer me answers I don't believe, I'll keep asking."
Her hands lace together in front of her. "Maybe I was worried that you'd been in an accident. It's not like you drive all the time."
True, I don't, but when I do, I own the road. I step closer. "Try again."
She scowls. "Crew."
"Adley."
"What do you want me to say?" Her hands dart to her hips and those breasts, those sweet, round breasts of hers bounce yet again.
I'm not a tit man. I'm not a leg man either. A pretty cunt will make me hard as a bag of nails, but a perfect, heart shaped ass is what brings me to my knees.
With Adley, it's all of it. I want it all. I still want it all.
"Why were you so torn up?" I take that last step that separates us.
Her eyes travel over my chest, my biceps, my shoulders and then finally my face. I'm in no hurry. I'll wait all fucking night if she wants to take her time to visually inspect the goods.
"I'm going to bed," she says the words but she doesn't move an inch.
I do. I run the tip of my index finger over her forearm. "I'll go with you."
"What? Why?"
My finger travels up her shoulder before I bring it to her chin. "I want an answer to my question. Tell me what the hell happened before I walked in and found you on the floor."
Her bottom lip trembles just ever so slightly but she bites it to a halt. "You must be tired. You had a long day. Why don't we just call it a night and talk about this in the morning?"
I cock both brows. "Because we're going to talk about it tonight."
Her hands move to her stomach. She inches up her shirt. It's a habit she has that she's completely unaware of it. She doesn't show much skin, but it's enough to tempt me yet again. "I need you to trust me to talk about this when I'm ready."
I grab her hand. I hold it against the warm skin of her stomach. "I want to help you."
She shudders. "You can’t."
Like hell I can't.
"I have to figure this out on my own." Her hand grips mine tighter, sliding it up a quarter of an inch.