Alex looks tortured. “I hate past Alex.”
“Why?”
“Because he stupidly slept on the floor, and if he hadn’t, he’d be doing everything tonight.”
I cup my hand around his cheek, kissing him softly, wondering at the sparks that dance across my skin, the desire that hums through me from just this, the faintest brush of lips.
“I love past Alex,” I tell him, before kissing him softly again.
Alex melts against me, groaning as I open my mouth, as he skates his hand down my back, then over my ass and wrenches me against him.
“I love present Alex,” I whisper.
His hips rock into mine as I reach between us and wrap my hand around him through his shorts. “I love all the Alexes you’ve ever been and ever will be.”
“Ted,” he gasps, reaching between my thighs, stroking over my sleep shorts.
I whimper as he drags two fingers over me, then rubs, a swift, sure circle.
I’m so close, already, stars dance in the edge of my vision. “Alex—”
He crushes his mouth to mine, pulling me tight against him, as our hands fumble and learn, stroking, caressing, hard, then soft,fast and slow. “I love you,” he whispers, his voice breaking as his hips falter, as he holds my eyes.
I arch into him, shaking as release slams through. “Love you,” I gasp. “I love you.”
He takes my mouth, his tongue plunging into me the way I know he wants to with his body, the way he will, soon, and, I hope, over and over for a very long time after that. For as long as we have.
I’m panting into his mouth, soaking up his grunts, his ragged breaths, the need trembling through his voice as he says my name over and over, until he buries his face in my neck, biting down as he comes with a pained groan, spilling hot and long, seeping through his shorts, to my hands. I stroke him, drawing it out, until he reaches down, takes my hand, and brings it to his pounding heart.
I hold his eyes as long as I can, as I lean in and kiss him, gentle, savoring. He sighs into our kiss, drawing me with him, as he eases onto his back, and I curl around him, hiking my thigh high over his, splaying my hand over his heart where it slams against his ribs.
“You were right,” I say. “It was better.”
He sighs sleepily, turning to kiss my hair. “I know.”
I laugh, dazed, incandescent. I kiss right over his thundering heart. “Want me to get you that muscle relaxer?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Nah. This?” He swats my ass, then yanks me close, plastering me to him. “Did the job even better.”
“Better,” I tell him, “seems to be our theme tonight.”
“Even better than that,” he says drowsily, kissing my forehead. “Best.”
CHAPTER 29NOW
August 6, fourth day of “vacation”
When I imagined a day at the beach, this isalmostwhat I pictured.
The real thing, quite on theme, is even better.
The lemon-yellow sun, its zesty rays sprayed across the cloudless aquamarine sky. The sea-glass ocean, tumbling in, crashing into frothy white waves, spread like lace on the hot sand. I’m hanging out with Mia, who’s starfished on the blanket beside me, taking a sun break under the umbrella.
Alex and Jen are on a walk, having their talk about what I told Alex last night, about what Ethan said, the harm I’m worried he could do. And hopefully, even more than that, about how things can be better, friendlier, for Mia.
Ethan, thankfully, isn’t around. He drove off an hour ago, I assume on some beach-wedding-eve errand.
“Hey, Mimi.”