My eyes stayed glued to Joe as he jogged away. I shook my head and pinched the bridge of my nose in an attempt to sober up.
Spotting an ice cream tent across the way, I held in a squeal of gratitude. I should have stuck to my original plan of stuffing my face with hot fudge covered goodness—alone.
Squinting at the flavor list in the back, I couldn’t make out a thing. My eyes were tired and out of focus.
“Hi, there!” I greeted the sales girl in a louder-than-I-meant-to voice. “What do you recommend?”
“Our Pina Colada is usually popular.” She shrugged when she met my gaze. “Can I see your ID?”
“My ID?” Not sure if she wanted to add me to a mailing list or something, I hesitated, but really wanted that damn ice cream, so I fished it out of my purse and handed it to her. She looked it over and nodded before handing it back to me.
“We only have one size, and it’s $5.25.”
I handed her the money, and she worked the ice cream into a beautiful swirl on top of a deep plastic cup. Taking it from her and digging my spoon in, my eyes fluttered when the sweet and tangy taste hit my tongue and tingled down my throat. It really did taste like a Pina Colada, even burning going down like one, too.
By the time Joe came back over, I was already three-quarters of the way down the bowl.
“I thought you left.” It took a lot of effort to say only four slow and slurred words.
His eyes narrowed as he studied me, growing wide when they landed on the cup in my hand.
“Did you buy that from over there?” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder to the girl who sold me the ice cream.
“Yeah, why?” I flinched at my loud voice.
Joe laughed before covering his mouth with his hands. “That has alcohol in it. More than the sangria. You didn’t see it on the sign behind her?”
“It was dark.” I stumbled as I tried to glance over to the tent and find where they noted the ice cream was full of booze. “I couldn’t even see what flavors she had. That’s why she wanted to see my ID? Hey, I got carded, Joe!” I slapped his chest so hard he fell back a step. “My thirty-three-year-old ass got carded. The poor girl must be nearsighted.” I let out a loud cackle before almost tumbling over. Joe caught me and wrapped his arm around my waist.
“I’m not sure if you can make it up all three flights at the Anchor. Let me take you to my apartment and sober you up a little. No funny business, I promise.”
As he led me away, I burrowed into his side. When he drew me toward him, I took the opportunity to nuzzle his neck, using my tipsy condition as an excuse to indulge.God, he smelled good. I remembered how smooth and sweet the skin on his neck was, and I sank my teeth into my bottom lip so I wouldn’t be tempted to take another taste.
“Joe,” I whispered into his ear. “I’m sorry.”
What was I sorry for? Sorry for leading him on tonight, unintentionally-intentionally because I liked him and wanted to be near him? Sorry we couldn’t go further than we already had, and couldn’t go back? Or sorry that from the moment he met me, I was an unglued damsel in distress?
Joe stopped and cupped my cheek, turning my face toward his.
“Don’t be sorry.” His lips brushed my forehead. “Friends take care of friends, right?”
As loopy as I was, I didn’t miss the sad glint in his eye, confirming what I already knew.
We weren’t really friends and never would be.
9
Joe
I ledCaterina up the short flight of stairs to my apartment, keeping one arm around her waist as I unlocked the door. I’d had a blast showing her all the different tents and filling her in on Ocean Cove, and just being with her in general, but I couldn’t shake my worry. She’d gotten tipsy by accident, but I wondered what was bothering her tonight to drink so much so fast. Even when she laughed at my dumb jokes, there was a sad gloss to her dark eyes. I suspected it had something to do with her ex, but I wouldn’t press. I’d give her a few bottles of water before taking her back to her motel room, then try to forget I’d ever met her—just like I’d been trying to do all afternoon.
I sat her down on my couch and handed her a bottle. She shook her head and swatted it away.
“Thank you, but I’m really fine,” she slurred before I put the bottle in her hand again, raising a brow until she finally took a drink. “It’s okay. I can handle my ice cream.”
“I’m sure you can, sweetheart.” I laughed as she lifted the bottle to her lips again. Those soft, sweet lips that tasted as good as they looked. Forgetting I met her would’ve been a hell of a lot easier if she was more forgettable. Unfortunately, she was the exact opposite.
She wore a tight tank top and tiny shorts that showed enough smooth olive skin to make my mouth water. It was all I could do not to ogle her amazing body, as I’d caught countless guys doing as she walked past them tonight. I couldn’t blame them. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, either. Those beautiful, sad eyes got to me most of all, and, although I shouldn’t have made it my concern, it was. I was worried about a woman I’d only just met. Worse, the fantasy of being her hero and making it all better both confused and overwhelmed me.
