My cock is aching from simply staring at her.
Her laughter dies down to small giggles. I give Zaria a smile as her legs wrap around my waist, and I basically hold her to me in the pool.
This right here is all my fantasies come to life.
My heart is racing as I stare at her, taking in her beauty.
She’s everything I could want.
But I have no idea if she wants me in return.
Swallowing hard, I look into her eyes once more. Her laughter fades, giving way to a quiet stillness as her breath catches. She stares back at me, and for a moment, it feels like the whole world has gone silent. A surge so intense pulses through me, almost causing me to lose my balance, while a buzz crackles and sizzles between us, sending shockwaves through the pool.
A primed tension fills the air while she chews on her bottom lip.
Zaria’s eyes glisten and sparkle as I stare into them, and it makes me want to kiss her so badly. So I inch closer, testing the boundaries. Her breathing hitches as she watches me move in. She tilts her head, and her lips part as her eyes shoot down to my mouth.
My heart, no shit, literally skips a beat as Zaria’s tongue darts out, licking her bottom lip.
Getting ready to kiss her for the first time, I inch closer and closer. I’m merely an inch away—my heart’s pounding, electricity’s surging around us like a tornado—when she takes a deep breath, turns her head, and pulls back, effectively stopping me from going further.
My heart sinks as I pause, giving it a moment to restore its proper rhythm. Then I take a breath, pulling back to fake a smile.
“I’m sorry. I just… I think we should…have some food.” She says the last part quickly, bordering on curtly.
Raising my eyebrow at her avoidance of the topic, I say, “Yeah, sure.” I release her, and she unwraps her legs from around my waist while clearing her throat. Then she swims to the shallow end of the pool. Trying to gather myself, I continue to stand there for a second longer than I should.
I went in for a kiss, but she blatantly refused me.
She just isn’t that into me.
Maybe I need to accept that.
Clenching my eyes, I swallow hard, trying to compose myself, then nod once and open my eyes, turning and walking out of the pool.
We both head to the sun lounges, where towels are draped over the back, and start drying off. Neither of us speaks a word. My shoulders are tense, and I notice hers are too. The awkward silence speaks volumes about the tension between us, and I wonder if I should leave when she turns toward me.
“I’ll get us some drinks.”
Okay, so she doesn’t want me to go.
That’s a good sign, I suppose.
Zaria walks over to the bar fridge and grabs another beer, then she pours herself some kind of fruity-looking thing, adding another fucking weird straw, of course. She walks over, handing it to me, and as I take it, our fingers connect. I don’t miss the fact that she gently slides her finger against mine. It’s a nice gesture,but a fucking confusing one. Needing to calm down, I lift the bottle to my lips and take a long gulp, letting the cool, refreshing bite of the beer wash over me. The chill seeps into my body, a welcome distraction that cools the heat simmering inside me. Each swallow brings a little more clarity, a little more calm, as if the coldness is grounding me, steadying my pulse, and bringing me back to my center.
Zaria looks at me and sighs. “You know, Zaria is my full name and stage persona, but all my family and really close friends call me Ria.”
I take a sip of my beer. “That’s pretty.”
“It is, and I’d likeyouto call me Ria, Nate.”
Warmth fills my chest, and my lips tip up into a genuine smile. I feel that perhaps Zaria likes me more than she’s letting on. But I’m not getting my hopes up. She rejected me for a reason. I have to remember that.
“Okay, Ria it is. Thanks.”
She nods and leans in, writing her name on a notepad as I sit on the sun lounge next to her. She hands the notepad to me, and I nod, taking it and a pencil, then proceed to draw a dove as my picture reference for the word Ria. She sits back, watching me as I continue to doodle on a free page of the notepad.
“You’re really good at drawing, you know that? You are an artist.”
