Heath choked on his first sip of coffee, a laugh forcing its way past the liquid, which nearly exited through his nose. Westin glanced up, eyeing him over the rim of the mug, and Heath caught the wry little grin hiding behind it.
He’s not flirting with you.
He needed that reminder tattooed across his forehead. Emblazoned upon the wall in garish neon. Written in the clouds by another god-awful small plane. Whatever it took to drive it home and squash this unhealthy tendency of his to form unrequited infatuations.
Not that he was infatuated with Westin. He wasn’t. Fascinated by him, possibly, but he’d promised himself he wouldn’t read into things that weren’t there, and by God, he’d be keeping at least one of his oaths.
In the interest of self-preservation, and to put some distance between his stupid brain and the gingersnap in the kitchen, Heath took his coffee outside to inspect the pool area in the early morning light.
The view beyond the shimmering waters of the pool was breathtaking, like something out of a fantasy novel.
Dense greenery framed the cliffs, which melted down into the white sand as it undulated with the ebb and flow of the waves crashing to shore. Sunlight danced atop the rippling water in glimmering shades of aquamarine and sapphire that sparkled like precious stones with every swell and break. It was beautiful beyond comprehension.
A stabbing pain hit him square in the chest as he thought of Christian and how ready he’d been to pour his heart out to the jerk.
What had he been thinking? They hadn’t been truly close since college, and even then, their friendship had largely remained under the radar.
Christian liked to keep his social groups separate. Whatever happened in the trust fund world didn’t mix with the things in his college world. As adults, Heath was one of the few people invited to cross the line, and while he’d tried to feel honored, he’d always felt grossly out of place.
He appreciated some of the introductions, like those who’d helped him land his first teaching job. That he’d hated it there wasn’t the point. He’d gotten his foot in a very exclusive door, and having it on his resume allowed him to write his own ticket when he’d sought tenure at the job he now loved.
He owed Christian for that, and for at least trying to include him. They were just two very different people.
Yet you still think you can change him.
He dipped his fingertips into the water and watched the touch echo across the pool’s surface.Fine. Yes. I’m a fool. Happy?
I dunno. Are you?
Rather than examine why his inner monologue suddenly sounded like Westin, Heath strolled along the seawall to where a staircase descended to the beach. The tide was in, covering the bottommost stairs, so he wouldn’t be investigating just yet, butlater there would be a hunt for shells or sea glass to add to his collection back home.
Had he really believed Christian would give up everything in favor of living a simple life in the metro suburbs?
He sighed and tossed a rock into the frothing water. Of course he had.
Christian had sold this trip as an opportunity to reconnect and get back to how things used to be, in the days before reality had fully snared them in its web. He’d lamented all the times he’d let Heath down. Made promises he hadn’t kept, then tried to make up for it with a grand apologetic gesture, only to fail at keeping that one too.
He’d said he missed the nights in Heath’s cozy little condo, pontificating about the meaning of life over Thai food and terrible ‘90s movies. On so many of those evenings, he would complain about the elite backstabbing, the endless socializing, and the constant game of one-upmanship required of him to maintain what his father had built. And Heath had eaten it up. All of it. Then licked the plate.
Bitter laughter worked its way up from his belly. No wonder Andres looked at him with such disdainful pity. Christian would inherit an empire worth so many zeros, Heath would run out of whiteboard trying to calculate it. Who in their right mind would walk away from that? Especially for such a grand opportunity as getting to live on a high school teacher’s salary.
“You damn fool,” he muttered, the words lost to the waves below.
His vision blurred, tears streaking down his cheeks as his face turned hot and his nose stuffed closed. He sat at the top of the stairs to watch the waves crash and churn, and a terrible thought occurred to him.
Did Westin and Christian know one another? They probably did. All the more reason to put some distance between them.The last thing he needed was Westin discovering what an idiot he was and giving him the same pitying looks.
The sharp sting of embarrassment tightened in his throat. He’d had it all planned out, from the overlook they would visit to the wine they’d drink.
It would be during sunset, of course. Tucked away amidst the hibiscus blooms with a crisp Moscato and the serenade of birds and the lapping sea.
He’d wanted to tell Christian how much he appreciated his friendship over the years, and how grateful he was for this opportunity to rekindle the closeness they’d once shared. Depending on the reception, and how fast the wine was working, he would then confess his desire to take advantage of this fresh start, and to forge an even deeper bond.
It wasn’t as outlandish as everyone thought. More than once, Christian had expressed jealousy toward the men Heath dated. He’d claimed they weren’t good enough for him, and talked about what he’d do differently if they were together. How he regretted even introducing them.
He’d also complained endlessly about his own relationships, stating how life would be better, simpler, if it were Heath on his arm instead of some random woman.
Hook. Line. Sinker. God, his own stupidity was blinding. Like staring at a fresh snowscape on a cloudless afternoon.
