12. Wicked

12

Wicked

Longing Looks And Daydreams

I don't think she even notices the way she licks her lips as she looks at me, but the sight of it damn near brings me to my knees as all the blood in my body rushes straight to my cock.

As the words I know she doesn't understand settle inside her, she finally gathers her composure and shakes her head, taking off toward the boardwalk.

Fuck, if I don't love having that effect on her.

"You look at me like that all the time," she mutters from a step ahead of me.

"Yeah, well…" I draw out as I catch up. "I can't stop thinking about it. About you. That night. You sure as fuck don't make it easy to forget when you look at me like you wish we could do it all over again."

Her breath catches at that.

"I'm on my way home. To your brother's house." She lets out an exasperated sigh. "Where I am living. Because he's marrying my sister." She spins to face me. "Your mother is my only friend. My life is a mess. My estranged father is stalking me. I'm basically homeless." She throws her hands up. "Not to mention, my daughter really likes you. I don't let men meet her. Ever. Because if there is one thing I know with certainty, it's that my flings never work out. I won't do that to her. Or Darby. Or Leo. Or Monica. It's too much." She breaks her gaze from mine, as if rethinking everything she'd just said. "Oh, right." She scoffs. "And we work together. Are all those reasons enough for you to realize that this," she waves a finger between us, "would be an astronomically bad idea?"

"No."

"Everett," she groans, throwing her head back.

I love it when she says my name.

I step into her the same time she steps into me—not so close that I'll scare her away, but close enough that she can see my eyes, so she can feel my intention as I close the space between us. "I understand your fears. I respect your boundaries." Her face softens at that. "But just…if you forgot about all the other bullshit for just a second. You're just you. I'm just me…" I slowly reach out and brush her hair from her shoulder.

Her eyes flutter closed at the contact, mouth parting slightly, as if she savors my touch. "I wish I could," she whispers. "But I don't have that luxury. That night was all I had. I don't have the option to just forget who I am and lean into feeling."

"I know." I nod. I brush my thumb across the pulse in her neck. "Just know that it's killing me. If nothing else, if it can't be acted on, know that I wish it could…" I pause, trying to find the right words. "If you change your mind, I want you to know that I'm not afraid of complicated, and I won't hurt Lou. Ever."

She inhales sharply, and I let my hand linger on her collarbone just a second longer before I pull away. I nearly feel the electricity between us in the tips of my fingers, as if the feel of her skin has branded itself onto my own.

I'm swept into the sea of her eyes as she opens them and soaks me in. We let each other see the desire written in our stares for just a moment, knowing this is all it'll ever be between us. She's decided we'll never be more than this: longing looks and daydreams.

I don't think it's just because she's afraid of her daughter being hurt. I think it's because she's afraid of hurting herself. Of being abandoned. Of not being enough for someone, not worthy of the love she so badly wants to receive but refuses to let herself have.

And fuck, if that doesn't make me want to tear down her walls and show her she's worthy of everything. It makes me want to cut through her armor and pull out the wildflower buried beneath it, waiting to bloom.

She takes a deep breath, and I wonder if my intentions are written all over my face.

"I won't change my mind," she whispers. It's a cool challenge I see on her face now.

I scoff. "Then you better stop looking at me like you've been wandering the desert for forty days and forty nights, and I'm the mirage of an oasis. Like you're dying of thirst and I'm the body of water you want to drown yourself in." I give her a slow smile. "Because I want to drown myself in you too, Wildflower."

Her nostrils flare, but I don't miss the way her eyes widen as I make myself abundantly clear. I've thought that night through enough to understand exactly why she ran out so quickly, and I need her to know she doesn't have to be embarrassed about the way she loses herself. Not with me.

"That was–" She lets out a huff of air. "We're not going there right now." She rolls her eyes. "You think you're a real heartbreaker, don't you, Ramos?"

Her attempt at changing the subject is cute. As if I'm going to forget the way she squirted all over my cock any time soon. As if I'm going to stop thinking about how badly I want it to see her come like that again, open and spread out on my bed. But I entertain it because she's pretty when she looks at me with that heated, playful gaze, and I don't want this moment to end just yet.

"You appear to break your fair share of hearts too."

She snorts. "What makes you say that?"

I duck my head so we're closer to the same level. She lifts hers to meet me halfway. Her chest presses against my crossed arms, and we're near enough to share breath. I feel every place our bodies align, as if my molecules are on high alert to her proximity. "The fact that I'm staring at your lips right now and knowing I'll never feel them again… It's breaking my heart, Wildflower."

"Don't flirt with me."

I tsk, giving her a smirk. "Telling me not to flirt with you is like telling me not to breathe around you. It's biological, written in my D.N.A. It sustains my life source."

Her eyes flare, and I see the challenge in them, the same look she gave me that night at the bar. Her breasts brush against my arms as she raises on her toes, the sensation sending all of the blood in my body straight to my cock.

Her lips are just a hair's breadth from mine, and I feel the softness of her breathing against my mouth. I don't move a fucking muscle, afraid of ruining what may come next. Just like the night we met, the ball is entirely in her court. I wait for her to decide how she wants to play me, knowing when it's said and done that I'll fucking thank her for it.

Her mouth nearly touches mine as she smiles. In the softest tone, pure seduction dripping from her voice, she murmurs, "Then don't breathe."

I let out a shaky exhale as she steps back with a triumphant smile on her face. I'm damn near ready to unleash myself on her, kiss her breathless right here on this beach. She raises her brows at me, as if challenging me to do so.

Suddenly, a chiming noise erupts from her pocket, breaking our moment.

I can't ignore the annoyance that flashes across her face at the interruption, as if she wasn't ready for it to end either. She gives me an apologetic look as she fishes her phone out of her back pocket. "It's probably Darby wondering where we are. Are you going to come by–"

She pauses as she stares down at her screen, and all evidence of that wild and fierce woman from a few moments ago vanishes entirely.

She's no longer that girl I met in the bar weeks ago. She's now the terrified woman I found in my shop with a man's grip around her arm. "Is it your dad?" I ask.

She looks up at me with fearful eyes, giving me a shallow shake of her head. "It's not my father…" She sighs. "It's my daughter's."

I feel my eyes go wide as my mouth drops open.

I obviously knew that Lou has a dad. I've just never heard her nor Dahlia speak of him before. I've never even heard Darby mention him. I figured he was entirely out of the picture.

"You seem afraid," I say cautiously. Her eyes snap to mine, creased and careful. "Is he dangerous, Dahlia?" My stomach knots as I ask the question.

"No." She bites her lip, looking back to her screen. "Not in the way you're thinking. I just… I didn't…" She huffs in frustration.

"You should answer it," I say. "Figure out what he wants. Otherwise, it'll be eating at you all day. At least this way, we can figure out a path forward, and then you can enjoy having your sister home."

She slides her thumb across the screen, holding the phone to her ear as she says, "There is no ‘we', Everett. This is my mess. Mine alone."

That stings.

"Hello?" she answers breathlessly. She swallows deeply, quiet for a moment as she takes in whatever is being said on the other side of the line. "How did you—" She rolls her eyes. "Of course. You know you don't—" She's cut off. Dahlia glances at me briefly, and it somehow makes me feel like I'm interrupting, but I refuse to leave her here alone. "I don't owe you that." She grabs Lou's surfboard from the stand and begins stalking off toward the shop. I follow behind her.

I hear brief clips of "No" and "How" and "But", though it appears she's interrupted every time she tries to get a thought out. It fucking enrages me.

We reach the front door of Heathen's, and she drops the surfboard onto the ground, placing a hand on her hip as she looks out at the horizon. I watch her jaw tighten, and her refusal to look at me tells me she's on the verge of tears. "Jason, who would possibl–" She stops again, and my heart stops in my chest as she turns to face me, eyes red-rimmed, chest heaving, pure devastation on her face. Fear and fury warp together in her eyes as she looks at me. "No, he wouldn't."

As whatever response she receives filters through her head, her eyes fall closed and her bottom lip trembles. She doesn't say anything else as she lets the phone fall from her ear and ends the call. I watch her breathe for a moment— rage and worry rushing through me.

"Dahlia…"

Her eyes fall open, and she attempts to shake away whatever emotions are holding her hostage, but I see her fail. "I have to go home," she says quietly, and something about her tone makes me question if she means Darby and Leo's house, or something else entirely.

"Let me take you."

She shakes her head. "No, no. I need to… I just need to get Lou and go home." She runs a hand through her hair, glancing around as if unsure entirely of where she is.

"Dahlia, what—"

"Everett, please." She lets out a sigh. "Thank you for today. I know Lou appreciates it, but I need to go. I'll see you later."

Before I can protest, get on my knees and beg her to let me in, she's turning the corner and making her way down the boardwalk.

I watch her go until she's out of sight.