“What did you just think?” he asks, his voice packing a level of feels I’m not prepared for.
“Nothing of importance,” I lie. I don’t want to tell him I was thinking that I didn’t want to leave him. How stupid.
“Brynne—tell me.”
“Just . . .” When I look him in the face, I lose my resistance. He lifts the words from my lips with a single look. “I was thinking I would miss you when we leave.”
He flinches. It’s a quick movement, a fast blanch, but I catch it. And my stomach drops into a free-fall, my reputation now obliterated. I’m sure he’s thinking I’m some pitiful girl that doesn’t know how to do things without strings. But I do know how to do that. I want to do that. I can’t help it that he’s the Pied Piper, leading me around with a sexy grin. It’s not fair.
“Brynne . . .”
“No, Fenton,” I say, sitting up and starting towards my chair. His hand on my arm stops me. I look at him over my shoulder.
“Lay back here.”
“I . . . No, it’s okay. I’m sorry,” I blush. “It was—”
“It was exactly what I was thinking.”
My breath leaves my body in a slow, steady stream. I wonder if I heard him right, but the hesitant grin on his face tells me I did. Shakily, I fall back into position on the chair and his hand presses flat on my stomach. I don’t know if it’s so I don’t get up or so he’s sure I’m here, but I love the feeling of his heavy arm lying on me. Of knowing he doesn’t want me to get up. Of being sure he’s still here.
“I told you I’ve enjoyed these last couple of days,” he confesses. “I’ll hate to go home and let you go back to your life.”
I wait for him to continue. There’s little doubt he can feel my heartbeat pounding in my stomach, but he doesn’t say anything. He just strums my skin with his fingers, sweeping them over my stomach.
Pulling his sunglasses off, he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. Some of his thick hair sticks to his forehead and I want to reach up and push it back, kiss his pursed lips, straddle him and kiss him until we forget this awkwardness. But it’s already in the universe. There is no taking it back.
“My life is a big mess right now, anyway,” I say, trying to feel okay about this. Trying to convince myself as much as him that I don’t need him, that I can split ways and go on with life. That I have a lot of things going on that I’ve been able to forget about for a few days, but things that are going to have to be dealt with. I force a swallow, summoning my courage. “I have all this family stuff happening. Grant is around, school will be starting soon . . .”
He narrows his eyes. “I didn’t think you had anything to say to Grant.”
“I don’t. But I’ll still have to deal with him, and I don’t know how to go about it. He locks me in with a promise he has something to say about my brother, and although I know it’s probably bullshit, I can’t risk it. What if this is the time he breaks?”
“What if he breaks and does something to you?” His eyes darken, his brows pull together.
“I’ll handle this.”
“You’ll call me.”
It sounds so simple coming from him, but the look on his face is anything but. I gulp.
“I’m not bothering you with this. I can handle Grant.”
“That doesn’t mean you should.”
“Grant was almost a part of my family, Fenton. I dated him for two years. I think I can deal with him.”
“I don’t give a fuck how long you dated him. If you were paying his bills and letting him skirt having to be a fucking man, I’m surprised you even classify it as a relationship or love under your own definitions.”
“You don’t understand.”
“What I don’t understand is how you could even think this way.” His chuckle reverberates through me, causing the hair on the back of my neck to stand up. “With me, you’re strong and smart and witty. When you talk about him, you seem the exact opposite. Why would you want to give anyone time that makes you feel this way?”
“You don’t know him.”
“Maybe not. But I haven’t heard anything to like.” He removes his hand from my body and I instantly miss it. “Your family was okay with him acting like he did to you?”
I’m not going into this. It would only add fuel to Fenton’s fire.
“My family is too busy with my brother to really care that much,” I say.
“What’s happening with your brother?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
I watch the boat drift by a large red rock that looks like a table. I try to focus on the layers and colors and not on Fenton.
“I get not wanting to talk about stuff, as you know,” he laughs softly. “But I’m curious as to what’s going on. What would make your parents not notice their daughter broke up with her boyfriend of two years.”
“Curiosity killed the cat,” I say simply.
“But satisfaction brought it back.”