Page 55 of River & Rue

​. . .​

not a weed gummy

Leaning on a shadowed wall beside the cabana’s door, I close my eyes. I can hear Rue inside, pacing and mumbling as she waits for me.

Any second, she’ll lose patience and open the door. She’ll see me standing here with her backpack over my shoulder and no good excuses, and she’ll think I’ve been perving on the drunks still fucking on the other side of the pool. But they’re the absolute last thing on my mind.

I’m out here for her sake.

I need every second I can get to reel in the bad ideas rattling around my head, starting with biting her plump bottom lip and ending with her coming so hard she blacks out.

After what just happened, there’s no question of our compatibility. Not anymore. Not ever again.

My fingertips were resting over her racing pulse as she watched a drop of water roll down my stomach. Her breath hitched; her nipples hardened. When I called her my girl, she squeezed those beautiful thighs together like she wished I were between them. And when she looked up at me, everything I’ve always wanted to see was right there waiting—a hunger as ravenous as mine.

With nothing more than my voice and a hand on the nape of her neck, she caught fire and melted like a dream.

The knowledge should be gratifying. A few years ago, maybe it would have been, but I’m not the same person I was in my twenties or even six months ago.

After a decade of attraction to a woman who tolerated me at best and loathed me at worst, finding out now I might not be alone in my want?

I’m not gratified. I’m gutted. Because it doesn’t change a damn thing.

I’ve known Rue too long to kid myself. Just like every other time I’ve seen a glimmer of desire from her, she’ll use this as an excuse to double her defenses.

Forget being her friend. I’ll be lucky if she ever speaks to me again.

SKREEEEE.

The scream of hinges right next to my head boomerangs me into the afterlife and back. My heart restarts in time to see the cabana door flying at my face. I barely get my hand up before it slams into me.

“River?”

Rue pops into view, haloed by warm light. Her hair is half dry and wild, sticking out in a thousand directions. A terrycloth robe is belted at her waist, but the sides hang open like she forgot to pull them together before tying the belt. Her chest is flushed, her eyes are blue flames, and her smile is crazy.

Not fuck-it-let’s-have-sex crazy.

Crazy crazy.

“What are you doing? Get in here, weirdo.”

Before I can tell her I’m not the weirdo in this situation, she grabs my wrist and yanks me into the cabana, then kicks the door closed behind us. Beaming up at me, she rubs her hands together with the comedic glee of a cartoon villain.

In a moment of startling clarity, I realize how easily I could fall in love with this madwoman.

“You’re not going to believe what I found. Hold, please.”

She spins and hurries toward the storage shelves opposite the small bathroom and shower. Most of the shelves hold towels, robes, and baskets with sunscreens, goggles, and the like. The bottom row is a hodgepodge of pool supplies, deflated floaties, lost or discarded bathing suits, and plastic crates.

Rue bends over one of the crates, rummaging through the contents. The damp robe is thin enough that I have a view of the entire outline of her ass.

Forcing myself to look away, I set her backpack down near the door. Then I drop onto the small bench outside the shower and pull on my cold but dry T-shirt. At least the cabana is warm.

“Where is it, where is it?” Rue mutters.

My lips quirk. “You found something, then hid it from yourself?”

Her giggle hits me in the chest.