Twenty minutes later, I park on the street overlooking the secluded beach. It's picturesque. Deep blue water. Bright sky. Lemon sun. Waves crashing into the pristine sand.

And Kaylee stepping out of the car with a squeal.

Nobody else gets this happy, jubilant version of her.

It's mine.

All right, maybe it's Em's too. I hear the two of them giggling in my sister's room almost every night.

But that's another ugly practicality.

The whole my little sister will freak the fuck out if she finds out I'm fucking her best friend.

I push it aside as I step out of the car and grab our stuff from the backseat.

The sun bounces off Kaylee's light hair. She really does look like an angel. Like my angel.

It used to be her nickname. Kay was the angel and Em was the devil.

It suits her.

A little too much.

It's filling my head with all sorts of thoughts about making the good girl bad.

I hold up my backpack. "I packed your swimsuit."

"You went into my room?" She arches a brow.

"Straight to your underwear drawer."

Her cheeks flush. "I guess you already saw most of it."

"Most, but not all."

She forces herself to look into my eyes. "You like that all my stuff is cotton and lace?"

Fuck yeah. I nod.

"You like that I'm innocent. That I'm a virgin."

"Yeah. But it's mostly that you're Kay. That you rant about The Hunger Games, and eat nothing but almond butter and jelly sandwiches, and mumble Latin quotes when you're tired."

"Serva me, servabo te."

"What's that mean?"

"My secret."

I play with the hem of her shirt. "I'll torture it out of you?"

"That sounds more like a reward."

I shake my head.

She nods.

"You have no idea how far I can push you to the edge." I slide my hand over her ass.

Her pupils dilate. Her lips purse. "It still sounds like a reward." She grabs the backpack, finds her bikini and a towel and hands it back to me.

I take her hand to lead her down the steep path.

She squeezes my palm as she steps onto the sand. Her eyes get wide. Her smile too.

She kicks off her shoes. Wraps the towel around her chest and loses layer after layer. Her bra falls on top of her t-shirt. Her panties on top of that.

Her eyes catch mine. "Are you just going to stand there?" She nods to the backpack.

I have no plans of watching while she runs around the waves. Not when I could have my hands on her soft body. My lips on her neck. My promises in her ears.

But it's fun to torture her.

"Maybe." I pull my black board shorts from the backpack.

She nods. "You really do look ridiculous in those."

"I could skip them."

"You should." She calls my bluff.

Fuck, I want to. I want every inch of my flesh pressed against hers. But it's going to be hard enough resisting dragging her to the backseat with my clothes on.

And I didn't pack condoms.

My genius idea. No condoms means I won't fuck her.

But now it means I can't fuck her.

She drops her towel to show off her bikini. It's so fucking Kay. A shiny green bottom with a scale print and a soft skirt. A shiny purple top that ties around her neck and on her back.

It's Ariel's fucking bikini.

And fuck does she fill it out.

I want those soft tits in my hands.

My mouth.

Around my cock.

She motions to my jeans. "You're a tease."

"You have no fucking idea."

That gets her breath catching in her throat. She forces herself to turn toward the beach. There are a dozen people here, but none are near us. "I guess I don't want you to get arrested. Not until I've had my way with you." She folds her glasses on her towel. Pushes herself to her feet. Dusts the sand off her ass.

I want my hands on that ass.

I want it pressed against my cock as I pin her to the wall.

I want to paint it red with my palm.

Fuck. I need to stop this train of thought or I'm going to get both of us arrested.

I focus on the waves crashing into the beach.

I pull my t-shirt over my head.

Wrap the towel around my hips. Shimmy out of my jeans and boxers and into my board shorts.

Let the towel fall to the ground.

Kay offers her hand.

I take it.

And I lead her right to the edge of the water.

She dips a toe in the surf. Cringes as water hits her ankle. "It's freezing."

"This is as warm as it gets."

"Still." She takes another step into the water. Another. "How come this was so much easier when I was a kid?"

"What wasn't?"

"True." She squeezes my hand, pulling me into the surf with her.

We wade until we're knee deep. Well, I'm knee deep. The water comes up to her thighs. Almost to—

She steps into a tiny wave. Yelps as the water rushes over her waist.

She turns to me with a smile. Wraps her arms around my waist. "I jump, you jump?"

"Always."

* * *

Kaylee nearly runs back to our blanket. She wraps herself in her towel like it's a hug she needs desperately.

I towel dry my hair. My shoulders. My chest. "Check the backpack."

She drops to her knees, slides on her glasses, leans over my backpack, and looks up at me. "What am I looking for?"

My command for you to suck me off.

Fuck, if there were less people here—

"This." I drop to one knee, pull my thermos from the main pouch, and hand it to her.

She turns the lid open and takes a sip. "Vanilla black."

"Still perfect for you."

She shakes her head. Digs into the backpack until she finds the other stuff in there—a few bars of chocolate and a box of strawberries. "Romantic."

"And I'm not?"

"I guess I've never thought about it." She sits cross legged as she unwraps a bar of seventy percent dark. "Have you been romancing your one-night stands all these years?"

"Depends on your definition of romance."

She pats the spot next to her. "I'm not sure I have one."

I sit. Steal a square of her chocolate and let it melt on my tongue.

"Chocolate. Strawberries. Trips to the beach."

"Making sure she comes at least three times?"

Kaylee laughs. "Five. It's not romantic until you get to five."

"You're going to regret those words."

"I don't think so." She breaks a square of chocolate in half and places it on her tongue. Her eyelids flutter together as she lets out a soft moan. "This one is my favorite."

"I know."

She picks up the tea and takes a long sip. "This too."

"I know. I know you."

"Yeah. You do." She taps her fingers against the thermos. "But, um, did you... did you read my note?"

"No." I reach into the backpack and find the neatly folded pages.

She stares at me like I'm crazy as I hand them to her. "But I..." Her voice streaks with surprise. "I left this for you. To apologize."

"You were desperate."

"Maybe."

"Yeah."

"Don't you... don't you want to read it?"

"I'm fucking dying to read it." I stare into those soft green eyes. "I want every thought in your head, Kay. But I can't take them. I need you to give them to me."

"I did."

"Because you want to let me in. Not because you think it's the only way."

"Oh." She unfolds the paper. Her attention drifts to it as she rereads her words.

I give her space. Suck every bit of sweetness from a strawberry. It only makes me more desperate to taste her.

"I... I want you to read it. This." Her voice rises from a whisper. "I do. I'm sure." She just stops herself from handing the paper to me. "Or... I could read it. I want to."

I nod. Fuck knows I want in her head.

She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. "Okay. Here goes nothing." Her attention goes back to the page. Her voice shifts into something soft and rhythmic. "I don't even want to write this, but I need to get it out. It's not like I can tell anyone. I certainly can't tell Em."

She presses her lips together.

"I looked at Brendon's sketchbook. I know it was fucked up. I'd die if he was reading this, if he was reading anything in here. But I had to know if I was right about the way he looks at me or if it was all in my head. And I was right. It was full of pictures of me. Stripping. Naked. Bound. He wants me tied to his bed. Or at least, he thinks about it."

Guilt seeps into her voice. It's in her eyes, her shoulders, her jaw.

It was fucked, her looking at my sketchbook.

But it was nothing this bad.

Her fingers curl into the paper. "I stopped thinking about him for a while. Last year. When it all started. But then when I started feeling better, it was worse. Harder to get him out of my head. Then when I changed things last month... All of a sudden, I think about sex all the time. It's not always with him. Sometimes it's Kit Harrington or Chris Evans or some faceless guy. But a lot of times it's Brendon." Her cheeks flush.

"I think about you too."

"All the time?"

"Every fucking night."

Her teeth sink into her lip. Her attention goes back to the paper. Her voice gets stronger as she reads. "He's thinking about me too. He wants me too. I don't know what to do. I can't act on it. He and Emma are the two most important people in my life. I can't risk that. And it's not like we have the potential for a future. If he knew the truth... He doesn't want to be with someone like me. He doesn't want to be with someone complicated."

"Kay—"

Her stare cuts me off.

She knows what I'm asking.

What the hell does she mean I don't want to be with someone like her?

She's sweet. Smart. Tenacious. Funny. Beautiful.

A little uptight, yeah, but that only makes me want to undo her.

"I want to tell you. I do." She plays with the wrapper of her chocolate bar. "But I'm afraid you'll leave."

"I won't."

"I know this ends in something complicated. With Em finding out. Or you realizing you'd rather be with someone your own age." She traces the edge of her square until her finger is streaked with melting chocolate.

I want to tell her it doesn't, but I can't promise that. I can't promise anything. I want Kay. Forever. But she's got a big, bright future ahead of her. And I'm not letting anything hold her back. Even me.

Especially me.

"I'd rather have a taste than nothing." She offers me half the square.

I take it.

She places the chocolate on her tongue. Chews. Swallows. "Serva me, servabo te. It means save me and I'll save you."

Fuck, that is a romantic notion.

But what the hell does Kaylee need saving from?