On The Rocks

I harden my gaze at her and for a second, I see regret in her eyes, but then it’s gone.

“I’ll go get your clothes,” I tell her. “Then we can go get your truck fixed.”

She stares at me, emotions warring across her face. But then she nods and quietly says, “Thank you.”

As I turn away, I realize I’m not really sure what she’s thanking me for. The two incredible orgasms I gave her, the fact I’m helping her fix her truck, or maybe it’s because I’m choosing not to press the issue with her?

Regardless, it’s clear that this subject is closed.





I’m so tired.

Utterly, bone-crushing tired.

I doubt I’ve had a total of sixteen hours sleep in the last four days since… since… well, since Hunter.

Without a doubt, I was completely shattered by him. The things he did to me, the words he said… the way he looked at me.

My heart painfully constricts when I remember him saying that what we shared was special. God… it was so special. It was beyond description. I have never felt closer to another human being in my life as he moved inside of me. This was the man I loved my entire life, buried deep inside of my body, and wedging himself tight inside my heart.

I reacted badly… I know it. But when my body cooled and I laid there in his arms, I got scared. So fucking scared. So I pushed him away, because I’m too much of a pansy ass to even try to filter through all the emotions coursing through me.

Hunter didn’t try to talk to me as I got dressed, and he took me to the auto supply store. It had stopped raining by the time we made it back to my truck and I leaned up against the side of it, nibbling on my fingernails as he took out the old battery and installed the new.

His shoulders were tense the entire time but he worked efficiently, a look of relief crossing his face when he got in the cab and started it up. He got out then and didn’t spare me a glance. He walked right by me and just said, “I’ll catch you later.”

My heart was crushed. I wanted to run after him and tell him I was sorry for what I said, but deep down inside… I felt this was probably for the best. I mean—what could happen between us? It was just totally awkward. We had amazing sex. I mean… freakin’ phenomenal, and I’m sure I’m ruined for any other man.

But Hunter is Hunter. He’s an island. Sure, he’s back home now, to help Brody get acclimated, but if anyone believes he won’t get back on the ASP Tour, they are fooling themselves. He’s too good, and he has too much of a career left in front of him. Besides, surfing is in his blood. He may call what he did “retirement,” but it’s really more of a sabbatical. Hunter won’t be sticking around forever.

Hunter is fleeting.

If I’m honest with myself, though, that’s not really the reason I think this is a bad idea. I’m really too much of a coward to put forth the effort into making this work. Hunter was the one who told me that what happened was special. That means he thinks there’s something there to build on.

I, on the other hand, see only the potential failure. I recall how battered my heart was five years ago, and that was just from having a childhood crush squashed like a grape. I don’t have it in me to suffer the type of disappointment and hurt that would come now that I’ve felt what it’s like to have Hunter Markham make love to me. It’s like handing a drowning man a life jacket, only to pull it away once he feels the safety and security of it in his grasp.

So, for the last four days I’ve avoided Last Call… and thus avoided Hunter. I’ve given instructions to my foreman on the work schedule, and he’s handling things just fine. I’ve gone by to check on the work after the bar has closed down for the night, and spent the weekend working out of my dad’s old shop, finishing the outdoor bar unit I built.