Chapter Two

Gemma

" Coffee, croissants, and chocolate chip muffins from the bakery downstairs," Lance said, strolling back into the hotel room with a white bag and coffee tray. A girl could get used to such fine treatment, especially when they were being delivered breakfast in bed by one of the hottest men they'd ever laid eyes on. I was easily the luckiest girl in the world. To have this man all to myself? I had never been so glad I decided to extend a trip in my life.

I was sitting criss-crossed on the bed, wearing nothing more than his polo shirt. It was big on me, though, so came mid-thigh. "Mmm," I moaned, and stretched off the bed, leaning forward for a kiss. "You know, what I like more than croissants and chocolate chip muffins?"

He walked over, closing the gap between us and laid the bag on the bed next to me before coming over to me. "Me?" he asked before lavishing me with the attention I craved. I curled my hands into his hair, fussing with the hair on the nape of his neck, as he brought his lips down to me. He tasted like coffee and smelt of aftershave. I licked my lips when we broke apart and sighed happily, closing my eyes. "It's a good morning, beautiful, isn't it?" he asked, coming to sit next to me on the bed.

I looked over at him and placed my head on his shoulders as he rubbed my back with one hand and started opening the bag with the other. "Indeed," I responded. I didn't think life could get much better. I didn't want to ever leave this room. I certainly didn't want Lance to leave this room. But like every other day, this day would be no different, and he'd have to go to work eventually. Some days we got lucky because he didn't have surf lessons scheduled until later in the day, so we could enjoy a leisurely morning together, but other days not so much. Today we were lucky, though.

"Here's your coffee," he remarked, handing me mine. I clutched the cup and took in the incredible smell. "Cream and sugar, just the way you like it. "

I held a hand to my chest and smiled. "You're starting to come around to this idea of cream and sugar in coffee, aren't you?"

He shook his head. "No, I'm not. I still don't know how you call that coffee."

I feigned surprise. "You mean, you don't like to drink your coffee any other way but black?"

He raised a brow and gave me a you-know-I-don't look that immediately had me chuckling.

I kissed the line that appeared on his forehead and went back to drinking my coffee. "I know you well enough by now to know you hate coffee any other way but black." I shivered just thinking about the bitter taste black coffee had. "I just don't know how you drink it like that."

He shrugged and broke a piece off his muffin. "Never did care for anything that sweet in the morning."

"Says the man eating a chocolate chip muffin." I quirked a brow and dared him to say something to the contrary.

"Touché," was all he gave back.

* * *

Lance got off work two hours ago and he'd already dropped off his five-year-old son, Mason, at another playdate, so we had all night to be together. We ate dinner, took a stroll on the beach, and were now drinking at the bar. All in all I'd say it was a good night. Lance lifted my hand to his mouth and my eyes widened as his tongue darted out and he licked the part on my hand between my wrist and thumb. "In case it got dry with all that salt," he explained and winked at me.

I felt my cheeks heat and rolled my eyes. "Smooth, Lance. Real smooth."

His voice was gruff when he asked, "How about we play a little game?"

"What game are you thinking?" I held my bottom lip between my teeth and anticipated his answer.

"Never have I ever."

I admonished, "That's not fair. I'm sure you've done plenty more than I have."

"Just because you don't surf doesn't mean that's true, beautiful."

I laughed remembering when I told him I'd never even tried. "Fine. You go first."

"Never have I ever kissed you at a bar," he announced and leaned in, pressing his lips against mine. I fought the urge to deepen the kiss, deciding to instead just savor the taste of him, the feel of him so close to my body.

When we parted, I smiled and wished he'd kiss me again, but instead confessed, "I like this game."

* * *

"Lance, you're missing the best part!" I shouted loud enough for him to hear me in the bathroom over the running water from the shower.

He yelled back, "Take notes."

I shook my head, even though I knew he couldn't see me. Before I could respond, though, I heard the bathroom door open and Lance walk out wearing nothing more than a towel around his waist, beads of water trailing down his stomach, falling straight to the deep V that became hidden beneath the towel. His dirty blond hair was wet, too. It was all I could do not to go over there, undo his towel so it fell in a heap on the floor, and make him dirty again so we could shower together. I licked my lips and brought my eyes to his where his brown ones were staring at me, amusement in them. "See something you like?" he jested.

I brushed off his comment and pointed to the television, trying to focus on something else now. "Letty's memories returned," I explained what he'd missed.

He walked over to the bed and sat down on the edge of it, clearly not caring enough to put on clothes.

Didn't he know there was almost no way I could sit through the rest of the movie like this ?

"I still can't believe I've never seen these movies and that we've managed to actually finish most of the series. Fast & Furious ," he paused before going on, "who would have thought they were this good?"

And yet he still walked away in the middle to shower. Sometimes I felt like Lance was more of a grownup than I was.

I kissed his bare shoulder, hoping that would be enough and then looked away. "Stick with me. I know all the best movies and shows. I watched this when it came out in theaters."

"Really?" He looked over at me, but by the way he was looking at me, finishing this movie was the last thing on his mind.

I nodded and observed as he neared and his mouth dropped down to the swell of my breasts that were peeking out from the top of my shirt. "I take it we'll finish the movie another time."

He sucked at my skin before lifting his lips and nodding. "Later, beautiful. Later."

* * *

Perhaps this was going to seem melodramatic, but it felt like I was having an out of body experience as I stood in front of the door to my hotel room next to my suitcase. I was all packed and ready to go, and yet my heart had no intention of coming with me. I had my fair share of casual hookups and I was always good with them. I really was getting used to being robotic about it, and not letting my emotions get in the way of having a good time. But this time was different. Maybe it was because it lasted too long. Perhaps it was because Lance was really a great guy, quite possibly one of the best guys I'd been with.

He was considerate. Kind. Caring. Demanding when he wanted to be. And a great dad. He always put his son first. Which was why he didn't introduce me to Mason and, according to him, hadn't ever looked for anything more than a casual hookup here and there, either. He needed to keep things clean for Mason's sake. And bringing a woman around to meet him was anything but clean. It was messy and something Lance didn't want to do. That was why he drew clear lines between his affairs and his son.

At first, I loved that about him. Loved that he, too, didn't want to get serious or make this into something more than what it was.

We'd had fun—understatement, actually, because we had a lot of fun—but the problem was, suddenly this was feeling more like a whirlwind romance than the fling it was supposed to be. I had work, family, a whole life back in Orlando and I had to get back to it .

Maybe if we met in another time, another place, we would've been able to make it work. But there was no use in pretending we could make it work. Long-distance never lasted as it was, and ours was never meant to be more than this.

Part of me wished I never let it turn into what it was, but he sucked me in from the very first second I laid eyes on him. He looked down at me with such desire, like I was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met and he wanted nothing more than to satisfy me and make me his. I didn't get that feeling often, that feeling of butterflies in my stomach, the ones he gave me every time his eyes met mine. So I allowed myself to do something I never would've otherwise done, something that made me happy, even if it made no sense.

And that was probably why it felt like someone had ripped my heart out of my chest when I slithered out of bed this morning quiet as a mouse so as not to wake Lance. It was our last night together, so he had one of his friends watch Mason.

My breath caught in my throat when I watched Lance stir in bed. My eyes immediately met his as he opened them. "I thought you'd sleep forever," I jested, trying to lighten the mood.

His voice was deeper than usual, just as it always was first thing in the morning, as he asked, "What time is it? Why didn't you wake me? "

What was I supposed to say? I woke up extra early to give myself time to absorb and process all of this, as if that was all it'd take to make this easier, knowing that I was leaving one of the best men that I ever had the pleasure of knowing. I swallowed hard, trying to get past the lump I felt in my throat, knowing I had to answer him. "Lance, don't make this any harder than it needs to be. I was going to leave you a note."

He grumbled something under his breath that I didn't quite catch. I didn't think I wanted to hear what he said, though, considering he was shaking his head and making fast work of getting out of bed, grabbing the sweats he tossed on the floor last night. "I'm not looking to make things hard, beautiful. Just wish you would've woke me, so we could've had breakfast together."

"I'm not hungry," I immediately spat out and watched his head snap up at me as he tied the string at the waist of his sweatpants. My stomach was practically in knots, I couldn't even imagine eating right now. It wouldn't stay down for long anyway.

He made strides to get to me, but before he closed the gap fully, I put my hand out and held him at bay. "Please," I begged.

His eyes searched mine and I licked my lips, trying my best now to plaster a phony smile on my face to make this believable. I worked in public relations, for crying out loud, I could spin nearly anything. I could very well make him believe this was really what I wanted. This was the only way this could end. I didn't see an alternate option, not this time. "I'm going to check out. You can take a shower and get dressed, then leave when you're done." I tried to keep things clean and worry more about the check out time than the obvious elephant in the room—that I was leaving and we weren't going to see each other again.

He smirked and ran his hand across his five o'clock shadow.

Oh, how I wanted to walk over there and replace his hand with mine before feeling it on my face as he kissed me into oblivion. I closed my eyes and pushed those thoughts aside, though. Thinking those thoughts was not going to do either of us any good.

He watched me closely, as though waiting for me to say something, anything at all about us.

The problem was, I knew my voice would crack if I tried to speak about us, about the great times we shared. It was never meant to be anything more, I reminded myself again. That was all this was. A fun fling that was going to end and we both knew it. And now it was. Ending, that was.

I took a step forward, fully prepared to break my own rules and at the very least give him a kiss goodbye on the cheek. But that wouldn't be enough and it would only leave me wanting more. We both knew it. Neither one of us were very good at denying the other what we wanted—each other. So instead I smiled and placed a hand on the top of my suitcase, ready to leave now more than ever. "Well, it's been fun," I said, not knowing what else to say, but feeling the sudden urge to fill the silence.

He quirked a brow, but rubbed the back of his neck and looked downward. When he finally lifted his head, he was smiling. Having known his smile by now, I could tell it was just as fake as the one I wore. "Yeah, fun." I knew he was only repeating my words, but hearing it come from his mouth, it stung.

I wanted to turn and run before I could change my mind, do something stupid like tell him we could make it work. I already knew where he stood on that front, but part of me was scared, so this was better than saying it could work. Besides, it would've been a lie anyway. We would've been fooling ourselves. We couldn't make it work, not even mere hours from each other. He had a son, me, a whole life back home. I already had two clients calling me, emailing me, threatening to fire me if I didn't get to their offices soon. I'd had my fun and now it was over. "I should get going," I said finally, tilting my head to the door and pointing at it, too. "Take care of yourself, Lance."

"You, too, beautiful."

Beautiful. I let that one word, his nickname for me wash over me. I didn't think I'd ever forget the way it rolled off his tongue or the way my toes seemed to want to curl every single time he said it.

I opened the door and walked out, my heart sinking with each step I took.

"Gemma," I heard him try to get my attention one last time before the door closed behind me, but I couldn't turn back around. I wasn't strong enough for that, I was ready to leave the Emerald Seas Resort and Lance Easton and I had to keep going. Although, I knew one thing for sure—I would never meet a man like him again. I really wished things could have been different, but they weren't. It turned out, no matter how badly you believed you didn't need something, there was always that sliver of wanting it, but sometimes circumstances made it so that it wasn't possible. This was one of those times.