Christ, was she serious? She thought I didn’t want her that way? “Well, part of me says I spent the entire second half of dinner last night trying not to think about fucking you. And failing. Does that answer your question?”
She gasped, her mouth hanging open. Her eyes danced with shocked delight, and I wished I could keep going, tell her all the things I wanted to do to her, just to keep that happy, stunned look on her face.
“But you were right—I do need time.”
“OK,” she finally managed.
We sat there for a few minutes in silence, and I gently rocked the hammock forward and back. Eventually, her head tilted toward me, and she rested it against my arm, making me smile. This I could handle. This was the sort of pure, peaceful moment I desperately needed to feel like myself. A sense of calm pervaded me, and I breathed deeply, allowing the woodsy air to fill my lungs. Skylar’s breathing was deep and even too, and a moment later I realized she’d fallen asleep.
Testing myself, I lowered my lips to her head and gently pressed them to her hair.
No voice. Just stillness and peace.
Flooded with gratitude, I inhaled the sweet floral scent of her shampoo before closing my eyes.
It might not have been the nap fantasy I’d had last night, but it was a damn good start.
Maybe there was hope for me.
Hope for us.
I woke up leisurely, completely comfortable. Next to me, Sebastian’s breathing was slow and steady, so I figured he’d fallen asleep too. There was something so nice about falling asleep next to someone you liked—it was intimate without being sexual, which was exactly what we needed.
Well, it’s what he needed. I was up for letting things get sexy right here in this hammock. My insides warmed when I thought of the way he’d said he wanted to let me in, and they went molten when I recalled him saying he’d thought about fucking me all night. He could go from one extreme to the other so quickly. What would he be like as a lover? Sweet and tender? Rough and demanding?
And that body. My God.
My belly flipped as I let my eyes sweep over his abs and crotch and legs, and heat tingled between my thighs. I could stretch and brush my hand right there…
Stop it. You just agreed to give him time, and it’s probably been about twenty minutes.
Right. He probably meant more time than that.
Just then his hand twitched on my leg, and his breathing altered. “Mmm. Did I fall asleep?”
“Yes. But I don’t blame you. It’s so quiet and peaceful here, I fell asleep too. In fact, I could go back to sleep.” I closed my eyes, not wanting him to move yet. He trailed one finger up my thigh, sending gooseflesh rippling across my skin. God, I wanted his hands on me so badly. How long would I have to wait?
He patted my knee and got up. “I’m going to put those chairs together.”
Sighing, I watched him walk over to the two big boxes on the patio. Then I stretched out on my side in the hammock, tucking my hands beneath my face. Guess I’d have to wait a little longer, although I could think of worse ways to spend an afternoon than watching Sebastian perform manual labor outside in the heat, arm muscles flexing. I was dreamily watching him finish up the first chair when he asked if I was awake.
“Yes, just enjoying the view.”
He flashed a quick grin at me as he set the drill aside. “You said something last night I’m curious about.”
“What was it?”
“You mentioned how the voice in your head tells you you’re a failure.”
“Oh, that.” I frowned. “Yeah, it does. All the time.”
He started working on the second chair. “Why?”
Between short bursts of noise from the drill, I opened up about how I felt kind of lost at this point in my life, about how ashamed I was that I’d failed to make it as an actress, and about how my sisters’ success only served to make me feel worse. “I feel horrible saying that,” I admitted. “I’m so proud of them and I’m happy they’re so good at what they do. It’s not like I begrudge them their success. I just feel bad about my lack of it.”
“But if Natalie’s business hadn’t done well, would you have called her a failure?”
“No, of course not.”
“Well, then?”
I frowned. “That’s different. That was a business. My failure feels more personal. And yet it was totally public. Add to that I got fired from the only job I’ve ever really liked and the fact that my mother told me to get a fucking life this morning!” Frustration tightened my throat, and I willed myself not to cry and spoil this nice afternoon.
“Your mother said that to you?” Sebastian stood up and looked at me with concern.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears. “She didn’t say it like that. She just pressured me about getting a real job. She knows working for Natalie is only a short-term thing. But I’m not good enough at anything to make finding a new job easy, and I have no college degree and nothing interesting or unique to put on a resume.”
“That’s not true,” he said firmly. “You could be good at anything. You just have to decide what you want.”
“How am I supposed to do that?” I blustered, sitting up swiftly and nearly toppling backward out of the hammock. “I feel like I’ve been impersonating some version of myself for so long, I don’t even know who I am anymore!” To my dismay, I burst into tears, and I was so embarrassed I jumped out of the hammock and ran down toward the dock, where I put my face into my hands and sobbed.
I heard footsteps behind me, and then felt Sebastian’s hand on my shoulder as he turned me into his arms. “Hey, you. Come here.”
His chest was warm and solid, and I collapsed against him, crying into my palms. He rubbed my back and trembling shoulders, shushing me gently.
“Here I thought it was my anxiety I’d struggle with today,” he said after a few minutes. “But you’re a mess.”
I half-laughed, half-sobbed. “Thanks.”
“How much of this is because of that stupid reunion on Saturday?”
“I don’t know. Some of it, I guess.” I took a few hitching breaths, trying to calm down.
“You should blow it off. I think it’s making you feel worse.”
“I know it is. But I have to go. I said I’d help with decorations.” I looked up at him with tearful eyes. “Would you come with me? Please? Just as friends,” I said quickly. “I won’t try anything.”
He smiled but shook his head. “I really can’t, Skylar. It would serve no purpose and just dredge up painful memories. Nothing about high school was good for me.”
Nodding sadly, I wiped my eyes and sniffed. “I understand.”
“Need a tissue?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on. Let’s go find some in the house, and then after I finish the chairs, we’ll go do something fun. How does that sound?”
“Good.” I sniffed again, wondering what his idea of fun was. Algebra? Sudoku? “What’ll we do?”
“I don’t know. Want to go buy a canoe?
I couldn’t help smiling a little, it was so random. “A canoe?”
“Yeah, I’ve been wanting one. Or maybe a rowboat. You can help me decide.”
“All right.”
“Then we’ll bring it back here and take it out on the water if it’s calm enough. How does that sound?”
“Good.”
“Can you paddle a canoe?”
I nodded. “I’m good at it, actually.”
He elbowed me as we walked toward the cabin. “And you said you’ve got nothing for your resume.”
I laughed, my spirits lifting.
• • •