Page 93 of Hard to Hold

“You’re avoiding me.”

She turns to look over her shoulder, and I’m sucker-punched in a way that’s all new to me. She’s been right in front of me all this time, and yet somehow, I’ve missed her and how we were before we fought.

“Not avoiding,” she murmurs and turns to face me with that look in her eye that tells me she’s thinking too much. “How can you say I’m avoiding you when we sleep in the same bed every night?”

I take a step toward her. “That’s sleeping, Lenn, but when it comes to the talking part, the laughing part, where did you go?” She looks down, and I reach out and lift her chin so she’s forced to look me in the eyes. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

She forces a smile. “I’m just trying to figure shit out.”

“Like what?”

She chews on her bottom lip. “Let me start by first saying I’m not a needy woman. I don’t need affirmations or definitions or someone to stroke my ego to make me feel—”

“Anyone who knows you, already knows that.”

“What are we doing here, Rush? What is this?”

She’s spoken aloud the words I ask myself every night as I wrap my arms around her and pull her against me. The same question I’ve yet to answer myself.

“You say that like you want to be mad at me.” I chuckle at how adorable she looks right now with that pout on her face.

“I am mad at you.”

“Why?”

“Because this is all your fault.”

“You’re right. It is.” I hold my hand up. “It’s completely my fault.” I lean in closer. “You want to tell me what I did?”

“You made me like you.”

My laugh rings out and a smile tugs on the corner of her lips. Fucking adorable. “That’s a terrible crime,” I say and lean in to press my lips against hers and frame her face with my hands. “Horrible.” They soften with my coaxing and open up to me. “How will you ever forgive me?”

“Rush,” she murmurs as she rests her forehead against mine. Our breaths feather over each other’s lips. “This is . . .”

The unsteady inhale of her breath is exactly how I feel. On shaky ground, uncertain as fuck, but knowing there’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.

“This is us. You. Me. It’s just us. And for the record, you made me like you too.” I lean back so I can meet her eyes and the emotion that’s welling in them. Despite how long I’ve known her, I’ve shared more with Lennox than any other person. I do consider her a friend. I hope she knows that, and doesn’t doubt our connection. “Does there have to be a definition? We both went into this knowing that I’ll be leaving to go back home to my life and my team and you’ll be leaving to go back home to your life and your family. We’re having fun, we’re making memories, and”—I press a tender kiss to her lips that feels like so much more than just having fun—“and that has to be enough for right now,” I say, my lips brushing against hers, not giving a fuck if anyone were to walk out and see us.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It was stupid to—”

I slant my lips over hers to shut her up. I don’t want an apology right now. There’s nothing to apologize for, I just want her.

I want this time we have left to be memorable.

Later, I can sort through the ache in my chest that burns from the thought of what it will be like when we do part ways.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

LENNOX

“AT LEAST I FINALLY FOUND something that you’re horrible at,” I say as I pull my arms out of my wetsuit and sink down into the sand, its warmth welcome against the cool neoprene.

“Whose idea was it to take surfing lessons anyway?” he says as he collapses beside me, a little less gracefully and with a lot more sand all over him.

“I think my stomach hurts from laughing so hard.”

He eyes me as he shoves a lock of hair off his forehead. “Whatever else you have up your Tour-de-America sleeve for me to do before this contract ends, can we make sure it involves something we can enjoy with less water going up my nose?”