Hell yeah.
But where does that leave me?
Making hard decisions.
Everything boils down to this: Who should be Echo’s first, Xavian? Some other asshole? Or me?
Chapter Four
I glance at the clock. Three a.m.
I lie in bed, acutely aware of Echo beside me in a matching pajama set. The sage green shorts with white polka dots cling to her hips and barely reach her thighs. Half of her incredible ass is hanging out. She can’t possibly be wearing underwear.
And the tank top… I grit my teeth. It ought to be illegal. It tries to be cute with The Snuggle is Real emblazoned across the front. But the spaghetti straps cling by a thread to her otherwise bare shoulders. And the top either shrank in the wash or she bought it too small because it doesn’t cover her midriff and it totally grips her tits, emphasizing the fact she’s braless.
Everything she’s worn this week has made me realize I know Echo as a human—probably better than anyone else—but I barely know her as a woman.
Worse, the question I asked myself on the beach pelts me over and over, circling like a fighter jet ready to drop more bombs on my brain. Do I want to risk her first time being with someone, who, I hope, won’t bruise her tender heart? If I did the job myself, I wouldn’t worry about her well-being. Hell, I’d worship her—happily. But if I take her to bed—even once—can we go back to being just friends? Would she hate me when I go on with my life?
Maybe. But it’s also possible I’ve underestimated her. Xavian swears she’s ready for a one-night fling simply to pop her cherry.
But what about you? Are you ready to spend a night inside Echo, touching her in every way, then let her go?
Given how much I want her? The way our kiss last night replays on a constant loop in my head? How hard I am every moment I’m around her?
I don’t know.
Suddenly, I wake up to a face full of sun, sweating and disoriented, and glance at the clock again. Crap, it’s after ten.
And I hear Echo singing in the shower, bless her off-key heart.
On the nightstand, her phone buzzes.
Glowering, I grab it. If that’s Xavian trying to chat her up and into bed, he can go fuck himself. But the display says it’s Fay Henderson, co-founder of the nonprofit Echo interviewed with last week.
Shit. She won’t want to miss this call, but she won’t be out of the shower in time. I hesitate, but on the third ring, I give into the urge to answer. “Hello?”
“May I speak to Echo Hope?”
“She’s not here at the moment. This is her…boyfriend. Can I help you?”
“How nice to talk to you, Hayes. Echo told us so much about you. It’s obvious she loves you.”
Obvious how? “My girl is incredibly special. I’m lucky.”
“You are. I was hoping to speak to her. Do you know when she’ll be available?”
My gut tells me the woman is going to offer Echo a job. “Half an hour? I can have her call you.”
“Perfect. She said you two are on vacation this week?”
“We’re in Maui.”
Fay sighs. “Bruce and I have been there a few times. Isn’t it wonderful?”
We talk for a few minutes about what the older couple did on their last trip to the island, and she gives me some tips about great restaurants and nearby activities.
“I appreciate this,” I say, setting the pen beside the full notepad. “Echo would love a hiking tour of Hana.”
“It’s worth every sore muscle.” The woman hesitates. “When you two get back, Bruce and I would be delighted if you’d join us and our son, Brooks, for dinner. We’re a small, family-oriented organization, and we like to get to know both our employees and our volunteers. Oops, I shouldn’t have said anything, but I guess it’s obvious we’d like to offer her a position in our organization.”
Echo wasn’t kidding. Her prospective bosses are really friendly…and they seem inclined to include their son. In case Echo changes her mind about dating the guy once she meets him? She and I need to look like a couple in love to bear an evening of their scrutiny.
“But, oh… I’m probably getting ahead of myself. Echo hasn’t accepted our offer. I really hope she does.”
I’m pretty sure she will, but… “I can’t speak for her, but I’ll have her call you as soon as she’s free so you ladies can work out the details.”
“Thank you. Enjoy the rest of your week.”
Fay disconnects the call. As I set Echo’s phone back on the nightstand, she emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam with a towel wrapped around her head, barely covered in a thin white nightie that skims her thighs and clings to her curves.
It’s so sheer, I can almost see through it.