I can’t help but laugh. “Come on, Rainey. I told you this morning in confidence, this thing between Tristan and me isn’t real.” I cornered her before we came down to the dock.
After hearing me tell my mom that Tristan was my boyfriend last night, Rainey had some serious questions. She’s my best friend in the world, and the reason I even know Tristan, so I didn’t want her in the dark. She’s also the only person who knows about my crush on the guy.
My eyes drift to him again. Sweat now glistens on his skin, and my pussy clenches with need.
Who am I kidding? Before, I was thinking I was beyond tempted to take things further with Tristan, and now I’m sure. Despite the fact that I don’t do casual relationships. I want time with Tristan badly enough that I’m willing to break my own rule and spend this weekend in his—our—bed. Based on the way he looked at me in the water earlier, like he wanted to devour me, I don’t think I’ll have any problem getting him to agree.
“You know, it’s okay to like him for real,” Rainey says in her soft, best friend voice.
I pull my gaze away from Tristan to find her watching me while she sips her margarita through a straw. She knows me too well.
“He’s just helping me out and I appreciate him for that.” I’m not sure why I don’t want to be honest with her about my growing feelings for Tristan. I just know I’m already dealing with the feelings I’ll have to face when the weekend is over. I may be going into this with my eyes wide open but I know it’s going to hurt when it’s over.
And I don’t want Rainey, and, by extension Lucas, feeling torn or in the middle.
“Whatever you say. Just know I’m here if you want to hash things out in your head.”
I smile at my friend. She knows me well enough to see right through me, but she also understands that I don’t want to talk about it, so she’ll let it go.
We spend the rest of the volleyball game checking out our men while sipping our drinks and shouting out words of praise and booing the other team.
When the game is over, Tristan accepts a bottle of water from one of the guys they played with, and I watch as he pours it over his head, shaking his hair out like he’s in a shampoo commercial. Or like he’s trying to kick my libido into high gear. If that’s the case, he’s succeeded.
Using the shirt he hasn’t worn since we were on the boat, he wipes his face and strolls over to me with an easy smile on his face.
I tilt my head back as I look up at him. He holds out his hand. “Want to go for a walk, sweetheart?”
Rainey is the only one around when he speaks. Does he know I told her the truth? Or does he think she’s in the dark? Is he calling me sweetheart for her benefit or does he mean it? At what point does this pretend game cross the line between faking it and having real feelings? For me, that’s an easy answer. For Tristan? I’m not sure anything is real.
Yet I’m helpless to ignore my feelings.
“Sure,” I say, putting my hand in his and letting him pull me to my feet. I hand my empty margarita cup to Rainey, who gives me a sly smile.
“Have fun,” she chirps.
Giving her a goodbye wave, I fall into step beside Tristan and we head toward the water. When we reach the place where the waves stop, I slip off my flip-flops and carry them in one hand, enjoying the way the gooey sensation feels between my toes. Every time the water rises, it runs over my feet.
As we walk in silence, our arms brush against each other’s and I’m happy, enjoying the easy silence but, as usual, I’m tempted to speak. “You’re one hell of a volleyball player,” I tell him.
He grins. “I enjoy the game, and I admit I have a competitive streak.”
“Were you keeping score despite it being just for fun?” I ask.
“Maybe.” He looks out over the ocean, and the wind tousles his dark hair, giving me more to admire. “Let’s just say my team won.”
I chuckle. “I get it. I’ve never been a big fan of the wholeparticipation trophything they do in sports now. I’ve always thought that a win should be earned.”
He nods. “Agreed. Tell me more about you, Kaylee.”
I shrug, unsure of what to say. “What do you want to know?”
He thinks for a moment, then asks, “How do you spend a typical day off?”
“Hmm.” I consider how to answer. I like that he’s thinking outside the box. “Well, I’d start off by sleeping in. There’s no better way to start your day than to wake up feeling well-rested. Then, I’d make myself French toast for breakfast. I’d want to spend the first half of my day doing something creative. Painting or scrapbooking or something like that. One time, I even took a basket-weaving class. It was surprisingly fun.”
He smiles as if he’s enjoying my answer. “I bet you’re the type to give people handmade Christmas gifts, aren’t you?”
“Of course. Those are the best kind. Don’t you think?” I love creating things, giving personal gifts.
