Breakaway: A friends to lovers romance.

My best friend grinned ear to ear, looking quite satisfied with himself. “Pays to be the star of the basketball team, Al.” He shrugged, climbing out of the car. How did I not know my best friend was living the life of a damn rock star?

I was still sitting there gawking at the floor to ceiling windows and multi-level balconies when I heard his voice.

“You planning to get out today?” he chuckled, reaching inside to help me out. “I take it you approve?” He couldn’t seem to wipe the amusement from his face at my reaction.

At a complete loss for words, I simply nodded my head and continued to stare at what was to be our home for the next few days while Colton tipped our driver and retrieved our bags.

“Come on, Al. I wanna show you the inside.”

We stepped into an elaborate foyer, complete with marble floors and a chandelier fit for a palace. Colt dropped our bags at the door, taking my hand and tugging me through to the living room. Two of the walls were nothing but glass with the ocean as far as the eye could see. He gave me the tour going room to room. By the way, there were six bedrooms. Six.

“It’s enormous,” I said, regarding the pool sized Jacuzzi tub in the master bath.

“That’s what she said,” he teased.

“Whose house is this?”

Colt shrugged. “A family member of one of the coaches. I mentioned yesterday that I was thinking of taking you out here sometime before you went back to Texas, and by the end of practice he had this all lined up.” The mention of my departure gave me a sick feeling. I never wanted to leave.

“You talk about me with your coaches?” I don’t know why that made me all warm and gooey inside, but there I was, turning to mush.

His hand cupped the back of my neck, pulling me toward him. “They’re practically family, babe. Besides, I talk about you to everyone.”

“Do you?” I asked, my voice low and gravelly as I lifted to my toes, lacing my fingers behind his neck.

“Mhmm,” he moaned his agreement against my lips before molding his mouth to mine and kissing me long and slow. By the time he pulled away, we were both panting, and my panties were soaked.

Colt rubbed a hand over his swollen lips. “Where to first?”

“Is bed an acceptable answer?” I asked with a sideways smile.

His brows shot up. “A little foreplay first, hussy,” he teased, grabbing two fists full of my ass.

Ohhh, foreplay. I liked the sound of that. “What’d you have in mind?” I asked, fluttering my lashes. I was pulling out all the stops.

His lips puckered in thought. “The pier is just down the road...Why don’t we start there?”

“I didn’t realize you were into exhibitionism...”

Colt tsked, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t bring you here to have sex, Alex. We could have done that back at the apartment.”

Oh, we were having sex all right. In every room and on every surface of this bajillion dollar house if I had anything to say about it. “Not in glass rooms and swimming pool sized tubs,” I argued.

With both hands still on my ass, he pulled me tighter to his body. Whisper-soft kisses brushed my forehead, my nose, my lips, my chin...His lips traced a path from my mouth to my ear. “I have plans for you later,” he growled, nibbling my lobe.

Tingles everywhere. “Now,” I mewled, going limp in his arms.

Colt bit down on my ear. “No.”

He was getting a little too comfortable with that two-letter-word for my liking.

“You’re mean.”

“The worst,” he agreed. “Now go get your purse.”

The sun was hot on our necks as we carried our shoes in our hands, walking right along the water’s edge to the pier. The wet sand was much more forgiving on our calves. I loved the way it felt, washing between my toes.

“Good Lord, there are a lot of people on this beach.” The closer we got to the pier, the denser the crowd became. They were literally packed like sardines. I didn’t understand how any of those parents were able to keep track of their children. It was giving me anxiety.

“Yeah,” Colt agreed. “It’s a lot different from Pensacola.” His hand squeezed mine affectionately, and my heart did a flip. We had so many great memories at that beach house.

“I miss it,” I whispered, squeezing his back. “Why’d we ever stop going?” I shielded my eyes with my hand so I could look at his face.

“You had Dean...” His lips pressed into a flat line. “And I had ball.”

After the summer Dean and I got together, we just stopped going. Colt had taken off to California, and I didn’t feel right going without him. Our parents still made their annual trip and begged us to come along. I’m so happy that I didn’t taint the memories of that place by going with Dean. It wouldn’t have been the same.

“Colton,” I hissed, digging my nails into his forearm as I planted my feet to the ground.

“Ouch, Alex. What the he—” He stopped walking, staring in the direction I was looking while struck momentarily speechless. It was a lucky thing for those freaks too.

“Is he doing what I think he’s—”

“Yeah,” Colt answered, cutting me off. He tugged my arm in the direction of the pier, hurriedly getting us out of earshot before I could make a scene. That boy always could anticipate my next move.

“There are kids all over this beach,” I shrieked, my hands flailing around in the air.

Colt could not stop laughing at my mini tantrum. “It’s California, baby,” is all he said in response. Like that was all the explanation I needed. I didn’t care if it was fucking Mars. It was disgusting.

“He was milking her, Colton. Milking her tit like it was a fucking udder!” The couple walking past us to get to the stairs were looking at me like I was insane. I felt close. I could not believe I just watched a grown ass man pull a woman’s tit out of her bathing suit and suck it in broad daylight on a beach filled with children.

“I know, Al.” He put his hand on the small of my back, ushering me up the wood steps. “Watch your step. It’s wet.”

“Like a dairy cow,” I muttered under my breath, unable to shake the sight from my head. My nipples were sore just thinking about it.

We were on our way to the booth to buy bracelets for the rides when we came upon a young woman with a guitar singing a beautiful rendition of “I Never Told You” by Colbie Callait. For years that song had reminded me of him, of us, of what we could have been. “I never told you what I should have said...I just held it in.” If ever there were lyrics that encompassed the regret I had where Colt and I were concerned, this was it.

“She’s good,” Colt noted, dropping a couple of dollars into her tips bucket, clueless to the way that song had twisted me up in knots for years over the feelings I harbored where he was concerned.

“Yeah,” I agreed with a strained smile.

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