Keep (Seaside Pictures 2)

And then when Will said the last song I dropped today was the best track he’d heard from me ever—well, it sunk in.

Regardless of the role I played, Saint or Zane, I was still a musician, a famous musician.

And she was a college student with a fear of ants and glasses that managed to slip off her nose no matter how many times she tried to push them back up.

I checked my watch and sat back against the sand.

There was a bonfire.

A giant ass bag of marshmallows.

But no girl.

And since the girl was the reason I was out there, by myself, when I could get mauled any minute—I was a bit disappointed.

At least I had enough marshmallows to keep some of the anxiety at bay, not all of it, but some.

And I was too emotionally exhausted to be anxious about people touching me, or staring, or wanting a picture.

“Hey.” A nervous voice that sounded a bit too insecure to be Fallon cut through the stress of my day. I quickly turned and nearly pulled a muscle doing a double then triple take.

“That’s a dress,” I said dumbly.

She pulled at the short black dress and shrugged. “These are also legs.”

“They are.” Throat dry, I had to wonder, what was it about this girl that set me on fire, that made me want to take her and refuse to let the world have her. Beautiful women had always surrounded me, thrown themselves at me, and now…now I was struggling to speak.

I was too busy staring at her sexy legs to register the other change, the one that had me jumping to my feet and kicking up sand in an effort to make it over to her. When I reached Fallon, I cupped her face and grinned. “No retirement home glasses?”

“No.” She grinned. “Thanks in part to Mags purposely crunching my glasses under her giant foot.”

“I sense a story here.”

“You won’t get it,” she fired back with a smirk.

“Hmm, that’s new, I typically get whatever I want…but when it comes to you, lots of doors slam in my face, windows.” Her smile faltered. “Do sliding doors slam?”

“I’m sorry.” She looked down then up again, and her giant brown eyes locked on mine again. “I feel like that’s me in this friendship. Always apologizing.”

“At this point, we’re even.” I offered my hand, mainly to see if she would shake it or get disappointed that I wasn’t kissing her instead.

Slowly she reached out and grasped my hand. The minute we touched, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her hard across the mouth. “I’m sorry too.”

“I like your sorry better.” She whispered against my lips.

“Funny, I was just thinking I’ve really got this apology thing nailed down, yeah?”

“You’re super good at it.” She wrapped her arms around my neck, standing up on her tiptoes to angle her head differently. “Amazing.”

“I know.”

“Humble.”

“Very.”

“Zane?”

We broke apart. “Yeah?”

“Why are you sorry?”

“For not getting it.” I pulled back more and kissed her hands. “But first, we mallow.”

She burst out laughing. “We mallow, huh?”

“It’s the only way to stay friends, Fallon. And you do want to be my friend. Don’t you?” I grinned wickedly. “Because I’m a really good friend.”

“Stop saying friend.”

“Friend, friend, friend.” I chanted and tossed her a marshmallow. “Hey, I have a thought…” She caught the marshmallow in midair and stuffed the whole thing in her mouth. I groaned. “Just kidding, no thoughts, no thoughts at all, can you do that again?”

She frowned, then picked up the marshmallow and slowly licked the outside.

My mouth dropped open.

She bit into it and then licked again.

I quickly looked around, like she was doing something illegal instead of molesting the marshmallow and making it painfully hard to keep my hands off of her. I suddenly cursed the fact that I was wearing tight jeans because I was ready to explode.

From her licking a marshmallow.

Great, I’d be an awesome sexual partner.

Are you there yet? Because it’s been five seconds and I can’t keep myself from combusting.

Just fantastic.

“This feels dirty.” She chomped the rest of the marshmallow and slowly licked each finger.

“Eh, I would just go with it,” I encouraged in a hoarse voice. “Can you lick your fingers slower? I want to memorize this moment.”

“No!” She giggled. “You’re being weird, and I’m not taking advantage of a third marshmallow, poor thing.”

“Poor me,” I grumbled. “I had to watch.”

She tossed one at my head.

I popped it in my mouth then held the bag over the fire.

“What are you doing!” She jumped to her feet.

“Volunteering as tribute, of course.”

“Zane!” She reached for the bag, but I pulled it back out of her reach. “You’re being crazy, you need them.”

“What if I need you more?”

“Don’t harm any mallows.”

“Ahh, say it again.”

“Don’t harm any—”

“The other part.”

“Mallows.” She grumbled, crossing her arms.

“If I burn them, you have to lick me, that’s how this game works right? I mean, if you have no object to lick, you’ll resort to the closest tasting thing.” I snapped my fingers and then grabbed a marshmallow and rubbed it down my chest. “See? I’m like a mallow, just bigger. Friendlier. Manlier.” I captured her in my gaze. “Harder.”