On The Rocks

He lets his gaze roam over me in a leisurely way, and then drifts back to my eyes, which I’m sure are wide with shock. He gives me a wink and then trots off to the water with his board under his arm.

My gaze narrows at him because I just don’t know how to handle this new friendship with Hunter. It’s what we had before… an easygoing, laid-back relationship. Not too deep, not too frilly. But now… Hunter laces his looks and words with sexual innuendo, promise, and longing. It’s exactly what I always wanted from him, but now it’s just sort of freaking me out. While I accepted his apology and I truly believe he’s sorry for how that unfortunate incident played out, I really can’t accept that he wants me in any way. I mean, I want to accept that, but I can’t. It’s too risky.

The sun rose and set on Hunter Markham as far as I was concerned five years ago. When he disabused me of my fantasies, I buried that love and longing very deep. While I can let go of my anger, I’m not sure I can let go of the lock that I put firmly around my heart.

I know Hunter isn’t looking at me and wanting a serious relationship. This is about sex, no doubt. He appreciates me as a grown woman now, and there is chemistry between us. If he’s flirting with me… if he’s making a pass… it is solely from the fact that he’s a man and thinking with his dick.

Not that there’s anything wrong with that. I’m a healthy, sexually aware woman myself. I’ve had my share of casual relationships, which focused around an easy friendship coupled with some smokin’ hot sex. In fact, I have never once felt a strong, emotional pull toward any of the men that I’ve had relationships with since I lost my virginity my freshman year in college. I think… deep down, knowing that I’d never have Hunter Markham’s heart ruined me from having anyone else’s.

And like I said before, all of this knowledge and confusing array of emotions that Hunter has evoked in me the last few days makes me grumpy as shit. I’m seriously not liking what this man does to me. I need to harden up a bit where he’s concerned.

“Those look like some deep thoughts you have going on in that head of yours.”

Glancing over to my left, I see Brody taking a seat on Casey’s chair. It’s the most words he’s said to me since returning home.

“There’s some beer in that cooler,” I tell him, pointing to where it sits behind our chairs.

“Nah. I don’t drink,” he says, and I cringe internally… because, of course, he wouldn’t drink anymore. Not after that night.

I take a moment to really look at Brody. His face is identical to Hunter’s. Same straight nose, square jaw with a slight dimple in the middle of his chin, and full lips. His hair color is darker because he’s spent the last five years locked away, while Hunter’s has been streaked pale by the hot sun. He wears his hair much longer than Hunter does, coming down to his shoulders with the top half pulled back into a ponytail. He has a full beard compared to Hunter’s scruffy look, but he keeps it trimmed close. The biggest difference that I see though, is the lack of light in Brody’s eyes. They are dim and shaded, while Hunter’s are bright and accented by laugh lines in the corners. The men could have identical haircuts and coloring, but stand them side by side and you’d know the difference based on their eyes.