Sometimes Never (Sometimes Never 1)

“What are you doing?” I ask quietly.

He clears his throat and swallows, his Adam’s apple moving slowly. “Just watching you. Wondering how much you plan on taking off.”

I peek down at my plain, black underwear. “That’s it.” I force an eye roll, feigning nonchalance. “It’s no different than wearing a swimsuit.” It is.

He takes several slow steps until he’s standing right in front of me. “It’s different. Trust me.” He takes a breath and blows it out through his mouth. “It’s painful how beautiful you are.”

I take a step back and into the pond. “Take your clothes off, Mason,” I say, my voice soft as I continue to back into the water. It’s warmer than I expected. My toes stick into the mucky bottom and I pause. Or maybe it’s because Mason lifts his shirt up over his head and I get my first look at his naked chest. His skin is golden and smooth. I stifle a sigh at the sight of him. Normal people shouldn’t have abs like this. Park has a nice six-pack, but this… Mason is… Am I still breathing?

Unhooking his belt draws my attention from his chest. My eyes focus on the way his hands move expertly over the buckle before trailing up. His eyes are trained on me, taking in my observation of his unclothed gloriousness. Damn. When did I become one of these people? I’m ogling my boyfriend. Openly. And I am not ashamed.

I give him a grin and continue into the water. Mason drops his pants, revealing white boxers with tiny four leaf clovers all over them. “Cute,” I call. “I can’t wait to see those after they’re wet.”

He takes a step into the water and grins back at me. “I feel so violated. I’m not a piece of meat, ya know.”

“Damn it. I was ready to take a bite of you.”

He lifts his brows. “I’m lying. I am absolutely loving this.” He wades out to me, wrapping his hands around my waist. “You can sink your teeth into me anytime you want. I’m all yours.”

My heart beats in double time. I can’t explain how much I like the sound of that. Mason is mine. I inhale a deep breath, attempting to regain control over myself and take another peek at the boxers. “Feeling lucky?” His eyes widen, but I grasp for something else to say before he can answer that question. “So, this is all right? No pantsing flashbacks?”

He shakes his head slowly, one side of his mouth lifting. “Nah, no pool, no chlorine, no diving board. I’m good.”

“Okay. That’s, um, good.” The last word comes out a little breathless and I bite my lip.

“Are you nervous, Hope?” Mason’s voice drips with a sexy gruffness. His hands snake around my back, locking me in place. The muscles in his arms flex with the movement. He has great arms.

I peer up at him, meeting his eyes. “Yes,” I admit.

“Don’t be.” His hands run up to tuck my hair behind my ears, water trickles down my neck sending a chill through me. “I don’t want anything you aren’t ready for. I promised I’d be good.”

I hold his gaze and breathe my next words out. “I never asked you to be good.”

Chapter 25

Mason

Well, hell. How am I supposed to respond to that? I’m pretty sure not with words. So I kiss her. I kiss Hope like I need her lips to breathe. And it’s true, in a way. I need this girl. I want her. I love her. And she loves me. Or candy. I’m still debating that one. But when she looks at me like she has today, when she kisses me like she is now, it feels like love.

Hope’s fingers work their way into my hair and she pulls as if she’s afraid I’ll break away. Yeah, not happening. I teased her about being obsessed, but that’s me. She’s my first thought when I wake up every morning. I fall asleep each night with her on my mind. My day consists of the time I’m with Hope and the shitty minutes until I will see her again. I consider her when I get dressed, wondering if she’ll like a specific shirt. I’ve even contemplated buying something purple just so I can wear her favorite color. Every time I’m at the store I stop in the candy aisle. I’ll stand there for ten minutes mulling over which to choose based on her mood, what candy she already ate that day, and which candy she’s mentioned. The girl’s turning me into a freak. And I have zero problems with that.

This is real.

I feel so good right now. Swimming and kissing. Everything feels right. I’m happy. And I don’t stop to think. All I know is I need to tell her. I need her to know what’s inside of me. Separating from the kiss is agonizing, but necessary. Keeping my arms around her, I let my lips graze her ear. “I love you,” I say softly.

Hope’s whole body goes rigid as she ducks her head. And then I realize my mistake. Why am I always fucking this up? The one thing I want more than anything else in the world and I can’t stop destroying it. This has to be some kind of Karma. What did I possibly do in my past lives that was so bad?

“I didn’t say that,” I stumble over my words. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean it—” And then I stop, because I did mean it. I don’t want to freak her out or cause her to run away from me. Or, hell, make her want to cut herself again. Who tells someone they love them after a couple weeks? But I don’t want to hide it. Yes, it happened quickly. And, yeah, some people may not understand it, but she does. I know she does. She’s just scared.

I shake my head and tighten my grasp on her. “Shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that yet, but I did mean it. I love you, Hope. I don’t expect you to say it back. And...just...don’t flip out. It doesn’t change anything. I won’t repeat it, I swear. Just look at me, please.”

Hope tilts her head up, squinting against the sun. I hold my breath, waiting. She will either make me or break me with her next words. If she pushes me away again… Are my legs shaking? If I wasn’t waiting execution I would be appalled with myself.

“I’m hungry,” she says at last.

Okay. Okay. Okay. I can work with this. I slap my thighs. “I have candy...” Twisting around, I rush out of the water for my pants. I put a pack of Rollos in my pocket before I left the house this morning. She told me last night on the phone that caramel was one of her favorite “non-fruity flavors”. Snatching up my pants, I turn around just as my fingers close around the candy.

“Oh,” Hope breathes.

My eyes flick to hers and I follow her line of sight down to my translucent boxer shorts before returning to her. I chuckle at her shameless staring.

“Well,” she laughs, finally looking me in the eyes. “I guess they are lucky. For me, at least.” She grins wickedly and I let my pants slip from my fingers. I stalk toward her, gliding through the water, ripping the candy wrapper open as I go. I smoothly place a piece in between my lips, holding it with my teeth and bend my head to hers. This I can do. This is easy. If Hope wants to keep our relationship physical for now, I am more than willing to oblige.

She seizes my shoulders, pulling herself up to meet me. Her nails dig into my skin and I nearly whimper with yearning as her mouth surrounds the candy, stealing it from my lips.

Gazing up at me, she licks the corner of her mouth. “I love candy,” she whispers.

Okay. Am I still the candy? Damn it. This girl is so confusing. Is she freaking talking about Rollos or is she trying to tell me something? Am I reading too much into her words? Shit.

“Do you want to go to my house?” she asks. “I think I need some real food.”

And that. Does she really want to go home and make a sandwich or is she inviting me back to her house for more than brunch? I shrug. Screw it. It doesn’t matter. I’m grateful she’s still with me, inviting me in any manner. We don’t need to rush this further right now anyway. I think I did that enough already for one day.

“Sure,” I agree. “You don’t happen to have a towel in your car, do you?”

“Actually, I think I might have one of Guy’s beach towels in the trunk. Don’t ask. You don’t want to know.”

“Uh, all right. It’s clean, though. Right?”

Hope raises her brows and lifts one shoulder in a lopsided shrugging gesture. “Clean enough.” I stand where I am as she trudges through the mud.

“What does that mean?” I call.

She dips into the car, plucking the keys from the ignition. “It means,” she says as she opens the trunk, “that it’s good enough to dry off with.” I ring myself out as she pats the Spiderman towel against her arms. Hm-mm. I’m not using it.

“Stay back there. I’m going commando,” I warn before sliding my boxers off and thrusting my legs into my jeans.

“Yeah, um, just so you know, I can totally see you.” I can hear the smile in her voice. I glance back as I button up and it’s not just a smile. It’s a heart stopping, sexy as hell smirk. The wind blows her long hair across her face. She catches it and it flutters across her throat, her collar bone, her chest. Goosebumps stand out on her pale skin. I move around the car, not taking me eyes off her. As she points her leg out to dry it, I spot the scars on her thigh. Without consciously deciding to, I reach out and run my fingertips over one of the jagged lines.

Hope inhales quickly, a hissing sound through her teeth. The muscle in her leg twitches at my touch. I kneel in front of her, taking the towel from her trembling hands, and smooth it over each leg. I look up at her, catching her gaze as I lean into her, pressing a light kiss to each scar. Her body convulses, quivering, and she cinches her fingers into my hair. I trail my hands across her thigh one last time.

“Why did you do it?” I ask softly.

Hope sinks to the grass as if she’s unable to stand. She pulls her legs to her chest and my breath hitches in my throat. This is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. How her back curves over her pale legs, her ankles crossed gracefully over each other, chin resting on one knee, the wet ends of her hair clinging to her arms, big blue eyes bright with pain. I don’t know a word meaningful enough for this beauty. How is it possible the entire world isn’t in love with her?

Probably the worst timing ever, but I have to capture this image. I dig my phone out of my pocket and snap a picture causing her to scrunch up her face in confusion and glower at me at the same time. I almost take another because I’ve never seen this combination on her before, but I refrain.

“Sorry,” I say. “I couldn’t help myself. You’re beautiful.”

She shakes her head and looks at her feet. “I hate when you say that.”

I tilt my head to the side, trying to get a better look at her face. “Why?”

She positions her hands on her shins and shakes her head again, angrily this time. “Because I’m not.”

“That’s bullshit.” I settle back against the car and steady my gaze on her profile. “Inside and out, you are the most attractive person I’ve ever met. You’re like a siren, drawing me to you.” I shrug and smirk at her. “Face it, Hope. You’re hot.”

“So you want to get in my pants. That doesn’t make me beautiful.”

I’m not going to deny I want in her pants, but I don’t have to confirm it right now either. “You’re not wearing pants. And I’m entitled to my opinion. I say you are.”

Hope shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t want to be.”

I feel my brows merge. “You don’t want to be what? Beautiful? Why?”

Closing her eyes tightly, she bites her lip. I pry one of her hands from her leg and squeeze it, assuring her I’m here, listening. Without opening her eyes, she takes a deep breath and sighs.

“I don’t like attention.” She clenches my hand tightly. I move closer to her, letting our sides make contact. The trembling in her body scares me. Unease fills me and I don’t know if I want to hear what she’s about to say. But, Jesus, that is so selfish. Running my free hand through my hair roughly and pressing closer yet, I rest my head against her shoulder.