Chapter 8
Volleyball with West was just fun. There wasn’t the built-in competition that always seemed to brew beneath the surface when I played with the Beckerson boys. It was like the old days when I used to only go to the beach with Bobby.
His face flashed in front of me. Blue eyes, wind tossed dirty blonde hair and muscles. So many freaking muscles. He’d been built like a Zamboni. Made for the ice. I smiled to myself as the memory came over me.
Every summer since the beginning of time Bobby and I had gone to the Cape bi-weekly, as long as he didn’t have hockey practice, and then when he’d been injured and couldn’t play anymore, it was every weekend.
“I like this,” Bobby had said as he buried his feet in the sand. He still had a brace on his back, so we’d pretty much just been coming for the sand and the fact the doctors said swimming was good therapy for him. He swam, taunting me as I sat on the shore with barely my toes in the water.
I had glanced over at him with my brows raised. He was staring at the crew playing volleyball, and his eyes filled with longing.
“Really?” I asked, and his eyes came back to me.
“What’s not to like?” A cocky grin came to his face as he looked me up and down. He reached forward and weaved his fingers between mine. “I’m here with you.”
I rolled my eyes. Since high school, we’d been going back and forth like this. Bobby would give half-hearted advances, and I’d ignore them. I’d had a crush on his little brother since I figured out boys were more than just someone to play hockey with. Bobby had changed a lot since then. He went from being the chubby older brother of the string bean to the muscled one. Girls drooled over both of them and hated me. I was the center of both of their worlds without even knowing it.
“I may be partially crippled, but I can still make you pay for that look,” he replied, narrowing his eyes at me.
I had pursed my lips as a silence challenge, and he tackled me, pushing my arms into the sand. His perfectly toned body hovered over mine, and his nose touched my own. A tingling sensation began at my belly, and I had squashed it. It was automatic to stop the feeling before it could roll over me. I was so used to it. It had started at some point in my freshmen year when he’d shed his pre-teen pounds. I didn’t even realize what it was.
Until now.
What. The. Hell.
Butterflies. I’d had freaking butterflies. With Bobby. My head jerked back, and West looked up from the shell he was collecting from the sand.
“You okay, Riv?”
I swallowed hard. West’s eyes burned into mine, and that same feeling erupted. My eyes drifted to his lips. Lips I loved feeling against my skin.
“I’m confused,” I said, and he tucked the shell into his pocket.
“About?”
“Bobby?” I replied, and it was more of a question than a reply.
West tipped his head back as a sad smile came to his face. “Memories?”
I nodded, and he leaned down to pick up another shell. He handed it to me, and I ran my fingers over the white exterior, smoothed by waves. I didn’t know what kind it was, but they were always the ones I remembered picking up as a kid. My dad had jars of them in the garage.
“Time gives clarity. It lessens the distractions of how we think we should have felt,” he replied as if it was the most simple thing in the world.
I felt like vomiting. I shouldn’t have had butterflies.
“I feel like my head is just messing with me since I miss him. I know I didn’t feel anything for him,” I replied, and West licked his lips as he stared out at the ocean. I could tell from the way his eyes wouldn’t meet mine that he disagreed.
Warmth spread through my limbs. West hadn’t know Bobby and I. He couldn’t tell if I had feelings for him or not. Especially now when suddenly even I didn’t know.
“I never really pictured you with a guy like Adam,” West said, and we stopped walking as we reached the stairs. He turned to face me, cocking his head. “You’re both too high strung. There’s no balance there.”
“High strung?” I asked, narrowing my eyes at him. I’d never been mad at West before, but at that moment I felt the warmth turning into burning anger.
He leaned forward and kissed my nose. “Absolutely nothing wrong with that.”
And like that, it melted away.
“I think I just miss him,” I replied with a nod.
West smirked. “And you’re realizing what an ass Adam was.”
“You’re his friend!” I shot back and West shrugged.
“That doesn’t mean I think he deserved you,” he said, and his neck turned red.
“Are you jealous?” I asked, elbowing him.
He pulled me into his arms, his eyes teasing as he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The fire ignited in my heart, and the kiss deepened, taking any thoughts of either of the Beckerson boys always immediately. West’s lips moved away from mine, but I could still feel his breath on them as he tangled his hands in my hair.
“Not at all. You’re mine,” West whispered, and there was a painful edge to his voice as if there was a silent fornow at the end.
“For as long as you want me,” I replied, trying to convince him with my eyes that I meant it.
“I’d like that to be a very long time, Riv. Is that a promise you want to make?”
I leaned up on my toes, pressing my hands into his shoulders as my lips met his ear.
“I promise.”
As I pulled away, his eyes remained shut, and his Adam’s apple rose and fell. It was as if he was silently praying for it to be true, and a part of me was too. I loved what we had. It was simple, easy and most of all it felt right. I couldn’t say the same thing about Adam. Finally, West’s eyes flicked open, and his lips stretched into that cocky smile that instantly had me entranced when we met.
“How am I doing fixing his screw-ups?” he asked, and I ran my fingers up his bare tattooed arms, following the flow of the art until I laced my hands behind his neck. His skin prickled and his jaw tightened. “That’s not fair in a public place.”
The dogs yanked on their leads, trying to pull West up the steps and pushing us closer together.
“Why ever not?” I asked, biting my lip.
He leaned down, his mouth pressing against mine and then parting it to bite my lip where I had just done it myself. I couldn’t help the whimper that was my reaction. My whole body flushed. If we didn’t have the dogs, the BMW would definitely be christened.
“Lobster roll?” West asked, smirking down at me.
“Hotel?”
“Mhmm…” West replied.