At five o’clock, the sizzle of two steaks on the grill wasn’t the only hot thing outside, the subtle sway of Ariel’s hips as she walked toward me to hand me a beer was smoking. I snaked an arm around her waist and pulled her close.

She tilted her head back, and I licked her neck. Okay, weird I know, but damn, I couldn’t help it. “You look so fucking edible and your scent is intoxicating.” I wanted to discover if her skin was just as arousing.

“I need to go make a salad,” Ariel said with a laugh as she extricated herself from my hold.

“Baby.” I groaned.

I was stuck outside watching the steaks, but as soon as they were done, I flipped off the grill and headed inside.

“We make a great team,” I told her as I set the steaks on the table and nodded to the corn on the cob and salad in front of her.

She nodded and the smile she gave me didn’t quite reach her eyes. All through dinner, she didn’t talk, we ate in silence and cleaned the kitchen in silence.

“What’s up, sweet? You’re awful quiet?” I met her eyes just as a tear rolled down her cheeks. “Ariel, what’s wrong?” She didn’t answer me. She just flicked the drop away as if crying was no big deal. “What happened?”

“Nothing,” she said before standing and striding toward the stairs.

I went after her, but she wasn’t in our bedroom and she wasn’t answering as I called her name. I found her lying on my old bed in the spare room.

“What’s up?” I sat down next to her totally lost over what just happened as I ran my fingers through her hair.

“If it’s okay with you, I thought that I’d move in here.” Her words were muffled as she spoke them face first into a pillow.

“I’m okay with you moving into the house.” Misunderstanding her words on purpose.

“No, I meant in here, this room, I can sleep on this bed.”

“But our bed is in there.” I pointed back toward the master bedroom.

“That’s your bed.”

“Last night, it became our bed, and today, that became your closet.”

“No, it didn’t, Kayson. We’re friends. We aren’t a team, and those shouldn’t be our anything.”

“What’s your fucking point, Ariel? I’m missing something. You promised that you would let me keep you safe.” She reached over for the second pillow and piled it on top of her head. “This is utter bullshit, I don’t know what happened or what changed. Whatever it was, please change it back. I don’t want games, Ariel. I never have and never will. If you’ll just talk to me, tell me where this is coming from, then I’ll try to help. But you have to talk to me.”

“Don’t you get it?” she asked, turning her tear-streaked face toward me. “This is your wife’s house.”

“What wife?” I nearly shouted, exasperated by this freakish conversation.

“Your wife, the one you will someday have. The one that will give you babies.” She took a deep breath, trying to gain control. “She’ll set the table and watch your kids play in the yard. You’ll tell her that you ‘make a great team’. That’ll be her closet.” Ariel pointed back toward the bedroom. “And one day you’ll carry her boxes upstairs. She deserves better. She doesn’t need a second-hand house or a used closet, a bedroom where you’ve slept with another woman.”

“So, you’re mad because of some hypothetical one day?” Finally, I understood, and it was the most fucked-up reasoning I had ever heard.

Her tears slowed, and she studied me like she expected me to tell her that she made total sense. Instead, I couldn’t contain the grin, which at least lightened her mood.

“What are you smiling about? Stop that,” she demanded. “This isn’t funny. I’m serious.”

“That’s what’s funny. You’re serious—seriously crazy and seriously adorable.”

She let out a huff as if I exasperated her, but it was her, this was all her.

“Sweet, I’ve been telling you since the Harley event that there’s something between us.” I rubbed my thumbs across the apples of her cheeks to wipe away her remaining tears. “Stop fighting it, we’re not in a rush, just enjoy the ride.” Standing up, I held out one hand. “Okay, that’s twice today you have gone batshit crazy. I have to ask. You by chance aren’t on your—”

I didn’t finish the question because Ariel smacked my back with a resounding slap, and her eyes were no longer red and teary. They were angry.

“Don’t you even finish that sentence, Kayson Christakos.” She pursed her lips. My grin was as charming as I could make it as I grabbed her hand.

“Come on, Laila Ali,” I said, pulling her up from the bed. “Let’s go watch a movie.”

I didn’t want to give her time to analyze her thoughts any longer or we might be facing World War three. Ariel and I, we were doing this. I’d figured it out. My mother had figured it out. I just had to wait for Ariel to figure it out. Her little freak out over some hypothetical woman meant she was jealous. She wasn’t ready to admit that she wanted to be that woman, but I saw it, and it was enough.

“Fine.” She sighed and then gave me the most adorable pout. “But you better have Netflix.”

“Sure.” I figured that I’d better leave it with that, telling her that I had more than three hundred cable channels, Hulu, Netflix, and AppleTV, somehow made me sound like a pitiful bachelor with no life.

I handed her my remote control, and she scrolled through the list until she found what she’d been searching for. “This movie makes everything feel right as rain. Have you ever seen it before?”

“Is it a chick flick?” From the picture, it looked like a chick flick.

“Yep. Sweet Home Alabama is absolutely a chick flick, but it’s the best one ever made. It’s about a little girl and boy that from the time they were little they were destined to be together—”

“Does it make you happy?” I asked, interrupting her full synopsis of the story.

“Yep.”

“Then I don’t mind. You fix us some drinks, and I’ll make the popcorn before we start it.”

Racing downstairs, we moved around each other in the kitchen.

She held a glass under the ice dispenser, and as I moved to stand near her, I shot my hip out to bump hers.

“If I don’t watch the movie and just kiss your neck, will that be okay?”

“You’ll watch it, it’s a good movie.”

“Is there sex in it?” I asked.

“It’s not a porn.”

Her words made my dick twitch. I backed away and then tossed a bag of Jiffy-Time into the microwave.

“Do you want to watch the movie upstairs or downstairs?”

“Let’s watch it upstairs,” I told her as I pulled the popcorn from the microwave and poured it into a bowl. Once we were settled on the bed, I leaned against the headboard and moved Ariel between my legs. I pushed play and discovered that Ariel was a movie talker.

“You ever find sea glass in the sand?” she asked. “It’s made from lightning.”

“When we go down to the Keys, but sea glass is different. When lightning hits sand it makes quartz, the different colored stones that wash up onto shore, that’s sea glass.

“Either way, I love this opening. The way the little boy proposes to her.”

As the movie progressed, I felt like Alabama was a foreign country.

“I’ve heard you say that things went pear shape. But since you used it in context, I understood the meaning. But I have no clue what that woman was talking about when she said, puttin’ on the dog?”

“Well, I’ve never heard anyone say it, either, but I know what she meant. It means she would have fancied everything up or put out a lavish spread of food. You know, all the things you do when you’re expecting company.”

“It sounds like she’s going to cook the dog, put him on the grill.”

She was silent for a beat and then tilted her head to look at me. “Guess what?”

“What?” I couldn’t help but share in her enthusiasm. “Please don’t tell me you’ve eaten a dog.”

“What? No!” She smacked my arm and gave me a disgusted face. “I was going to tell you that I’ve been to the Coon dog cemetery. Up until my senior year, we’d go and drink after football games.”

“Why didn’t you go your senior year? My senior year of high school was the most fun.”

“I couldn’t.” Ariel stared down at her toes.

Part of me was afraid of the answer but she was finally opening up. “Why not?”

“When I was fourteen, my mama had a stroke, and it left her with a limp and she couldn’t say some words. But just before my senior year, she had her second stroke, well . . . that one was a lot worse. She couldn’t walk or talk. She was wheelchair bound after that one. I had to work full-time and take care of Mama.”

“What about your father, didn’t he help?”

“Yeah, right. He ran off as soon as Mama had her first stroke.” I tightened my arms around her as if I could protect her from the memory.

“How about aunts or uncles, wasn’t there anyone around?”

I paused the movie so she could keep talking.

“We had no other family. And if my daddy had still been around, he wouldn’t have helped Mama with those things anyway.” She stared off in the distance, as if she were lost in a memory. “I would still have had to finish my senior year via virtual school and get my degree online.”

“Do you still talk to him?”

“No. He sent some money for the first year or so, but I never heard from him again once the checks stopped. The only thing my daddy did right was, he kept us on his insurance until Mama died. Our house was paid off, so after she passed away, I used the money to pay off the rest of her medical bills, you know, the shit that wasn’t covered by insurance.”

“Where’s your dad now?” I asked, already hating this man.

“Not sure. Last I knew he worked at a factory a town over from where I grew up. I assume he’s still there.”

“You know that your dad was the loser here, right? He lost you.”

Ariel turned her head, still leaning back against me as she gazed out the doors to the balcony. Rehashing old memories took its toll on both of us. I wanted to beat the shit out of the man for leaving a fourteen-year-old and his wife with such responsibility.

I needed to see her smile, erase the bad thoughts. So, I pressed play and turned back to the movie. Playing air drum on her thighs when the song “Sweet Home Alabama” came on, Ariel sang every word—off key. Just like that, she was back to being happy and laughing. I couldn’t remember ever having so much fun doing absolutely nothing. No one was there, we were watching some screwed-up love story while sitting in bed, and I wouldn’t exchange tonight for tickets to front-row seats on the fifty-yard line at a Tampa Bay Buccaneers game

“Oh, here it is again.” She tapped my arm. “Remember when they were little and he proposed? Watch, watch,”

“I’m trying,” I told her. Trying not to laugh was more like it.

“Isn’t that the most romantic thing ever? They switched it, this time he wants to know why she wants to get married, and she says so she could kiss him anytime she wants. Did you hear me?” She sounded a little perturbed at the thought that I hadn’t been listening.

“Yes. Yes. I heard every word.”

“Then what’d I say?” She titled her head up to face me.

For a moment I second-guessed myself, was this the right move or not, was she ready to enjoy the ride and see where this took us?

“You said.” I pressed my lips down to hers. “Fuck me. Fuck me right now.”

Tiny goose bumps popped up along Ariel’s skin as I traced the lines of her neck with my index finger. Skimming the exposed skin on her arms, I heard her as she let out a soft moan, and I chased the shiver that rolled down her spine with my fingertips.

Bringing my legs together, I shifted her so she was sitting on my lap and pulled her lips to mine. She melted against me, letting out a soft, soft moan as I swept my tongue into her mouth and sank my fingers into her hair. God, I wanted her more than I wanted my next breath, but I knew . . . I knew that I needed to slow down. So, I pulled away, resting my forehead against hers and forcing my heart to slow. I held her for a few minutes, neither of us saying a word. We just stared at each other. I held back all the unspoken words that said, ‘I was holding my future in my arms’. I needed to find those words in her eyes.

I rolled off the bed, pulling her with me, and spun her around. Her back to my front. I grabbed the hem of her shirt and lifted it and tossed it to the floor.

“Do you feel how much I want you?” I asked.

She nodded.

Bending, I kissed each shoulder as I removed the straps of her bra and then unsnapped it, letting it fall to the floor.

Pressing my thumbs into the base of her spine, I worked my fingers in small circles massaging, still holding her firmly against my erection. Shifting my hands to her front, and paused.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes.” The single word was nothing but a breath, but I heard it like a thunderclap rolling through my body. I unfastened her jeans and eased them off her, laving her skin with slow kisses as I did so.

She tried to turn around, but I held her firm. “No.” I didn’t want her to see but anticipate my next touch. I wanted her to relax. Enjoy. Trust.

Sliding my hands into the back of her black panties, I cupped her ass so the tips of my fingers kissed between her legs. “You’re so fucking wet.”

I slid her panties off and with one hand placed between her shoulder blades I gently pressed her forward so that she rested on the bed, her hair resembling flickering flames against the beige color of my sheets. Reveling in Ariel’s beauty, my hunger for her and my thirst to drink her in took over.

I skated my hands up her body and stretched her arms high above her head. “Stay.”

My clothes rapidly joined hers. I paused and took a few slow, methodical breaths. I was like a prisoner begging for a stay of execution. I didn’t want to end the night too soon.

After pulling her up onto her knees, I moved behind her onto the bed, my knees on either side of hers. She had to feel my erection pressing into her back; it was throbbing for release.

I wrapped my arms around her chest, holding her firmly, and leaned down, whispering, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

I was falling in love with this woman, with her aversion to relationships, and her crazy rants, I wanted every part of her. I’d been falling in love with her for over three months, and every kiss . . . every swipe of my tongue against her skin and soft keening noise I pulled from her, I fell a little deeper. My kisses followed the curve of her neck, across her right shoulder, and down her arm. Bringing my lips back up to the center of her neck, I started again this time going down the left side, each kiss following her sensual curve.

Sweeping one hand down her soft skin to her smoothed shaved center. My index finger slid between her folds, her wetness coating my finger. But I was lost. I had to taste her. Bringing my hand to my mouth, I licked, the taste even sweeter than the other morning. I ached for this feisty, crazy, emotional woman.

“Please, Kayson. I want to touch you.”

She turned around, but our eyes never met because she was focused below my waist.

“Can I taste you?” she asked.

“You’re killing me. You’re so fucking hot, so perfect.”

“Lie back.” Ariel followed me and pushed up on to an elbow, sinking her free hand into the back of my hair before pulling my mouth to hers. When her tongue swept against mine, I groaned, kissing her harder.

“I’ve never . . . before,” she whispered.

That was it, those words. Knowing that she had never, “Ariel. I’m so fucking close.”

“Just a taste,” she pleaded.

I watched as she gathered her hair over one shoulder so it would be out of the way. Every nerve in my body ready to ignite, it was the anticipation, just knowing that any moment her warm wet lips were going to wrap around me. Her tongue darted out, making my cock jerk, but it was just a tease, she licked her lips instead. I held my breath as her tongue swept out and tasted my tip.

“Holy fuck, Ariel.”

“Is that sensitive?” she asked, repeating the movement.

“Yes.”

“Where’s the most sensitive spot?”

“That. All of it. Holy shit. Under the head.” I couldn’t think straight with the warmth of her breath on me.

She swirled her tongue around the head of my cock, once, twice.

“That’s enough,” I said, pulling her up and rolling so I had her tucked under me. “I want to come inside you.”

Then my mouth was on hers again, tasting and controlling and taking. I needed all of her. When she body was arching against mine, her hips shifting, searching for me, I moved lower. Inching my way down her neck and chest to her nipples, sucking, biting, tugging on the tips, first on her left then her right until they were both hard nubs.

“Oh, God. Kayson.”

I kissed lower, down her ribs, her belly, her hips until I tasted her desire for me.

“Spread your legs.”

Teasing, lightly touching, I kissed around her center.

“Please. Right there,” she said, trying to urge me to clutch on to her center. “I need you now.” Her words were a pleading command.

“Uh-uh. Not yet. Relax. You got to taste, it’s only fair I do, too.” I told her as I positioned myself between her legs and rubbed my day old stubble against her inner thigh. She spread her legs wider, tempting me. I just gave her a single, long lick with the flat of my tongue before trailing kisses from her center down her calf, to the bottom of her foot. Licking a line around the top of her ankle. She flexed her foot, the sensation causing her to lift her butt off of the bed.

The sight of her spread out in front of me almost undid me. I couldn’t tease anymore. I needed her. I pulled my legs up under me and reached for the box of condoms from my nightstand and tore one packet off the sleeve. Using my teeth, I ripped open the wrapper. She sat up and enveloped my hands in hers, echoing each movement as I rolled the condom down my shaft.

Holding myself up on one forearm, I positioned myself between her legs. Squeezing the base, I flicked my length against her, tapping, teasing. Each tap had the condom glistening more with her wetness. I wanted her slick and ready. I wouldn’t last long, and I wanted her to go with me.

“Kayson, please.”

It was all I needed. I thrust forward and buried myself to the hilt, her nails biting into my back. I stayed still, trying to wrap my brain around the fact that I had her in my bed, in my arms, and I wasn’t going to let her go—ever. This felt right, so fucking right. The way the top of her head rested perfectly under my chin, the way she said my name, the way I felt buried deep inside her. Nothing had ever felt this way before. I couldn’t feel where I ended and she began.

I drew out to the tip and plunged back in, loving the way her moans echoed my movements. I wasn’t falling in love with her. I was in love. Gone, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred, gone.

Each thrust became my way of asking her, “Are you in love with me?” And when I was all the way in, I gave an extra push to drive even deeper. It was that cherry on top, that last word to my question. Was she in love with me, “Yet?” Because I had no doubt that she would be, I would work to make her fall in love with me. I just wanted it to be sooner rather than later.

“Look at me, baby,” I told her.

I wrapped my hands around her and stretched her arms above her head, pinning her beneath me, forcing our eyes to lock.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I told her as she let out a soft moan.

“Give it to me. Give me that release.” Her legs wrapped around my waist, holding me tight, forcing me deeper inside her.

“I’m yours,” I whispered as her body tightened.

I wanted to make love to her for the rest of my life. I pulled out and sank back in. I wanted to ask her if she was in love with me. Again, I pushed deep, making sure to hit that perfect spot.

“Do you hear my heart?” I asked her.

“No,” she panted. “I hear mine. It’s pounding, thumping.”

“What’s your heart saying, Ariel? Tell me, you know it. Tell me, sweet.”

“You, Kayson, it’s saying your name.”

Her answer brought out a deep guttural groan from me. I reached between us and found her clit. Circling it, I teased her for just a second before pressing my thumb against it. Her entire body tightened, her legs clamped around my hips, her back arched, and I pulled my face back just in time to watch her lips take shape as she mouthed my name. Her release sent me over, every drop pulsating inside her.

We were spent, she held on tight as I rolled over and pulled her with me. I didn’t want this feeling to end, holding her in place, our bodies still joined, I held her, and she let me.

I was just about to drift off when she spoke, her voice a sleepy content sound.

“Kayson?”

“Yes, sweet?”

“I read that there’s a town about two hours away that’s all Greek. The reviewers said, it's as close to Greece as people can get without leaving the United States. Do you know where I’m talking about?”

“Tarpon Springs. Yeah, divers still take their boats out every day and go sponge diving. Pretty much everything from the shops to the restaurants, grocery stores, pastry shops are all owned by Greek families.”

“Will you take me? I’ve never been anywhere. I’d like to see a hint of Greece.”

“You want to go to Tarpon Springs?”

She nodded.

“Tomorrow?”

She nodded.

I pulled her head down to my chest. “Then we better get some sleep.”