“Figured as much. I’m pretty sure Emily is in the same boat. She eats, lives, and breathes Beach Babe more than Kelsey. Just keep me out of it. I don’t want to know anything about anything.” I hear him holler out loud enough to be heard while I’m grabbing the beers and the bottle of wine that was left open on the counter. May as well top off the girls while I feel Em out.
“We’re close, Deke, but not that close. Pretty sure my father would take a switch to my ass still if I did any of that anyways.” I hold up the bottle of IPA he likes. He grabs it. The bottle of wine in my other gives him a clue of where I intend to go.
“Glad to hear it. Kels and I might just take bets on who will fold first, though.” I shrug my shoulders. There’s only one person who I need a response from, and that’s not Deke or Kelsey.
CHAPTER SEVEN
emily
I’m just taking the last sip from my glass of wine when two figures appear in the doorway. Clearly, it’s Deke, but he isn’t the one who has my attention. That would be Tate. The feelings hit me like a ton of bricks, right between my legs, causing me to clench my thighs. Not like it does a whole lot of good. I was hoping I’d see him, things would be more platonic and less erotic. No such luck, and it doesn’t seem like Tate minds it either, what with the way he practically pissed in a circle around me when Joey attempted to hit on me. It’s good to know the feeling is mutual. The only issue I’m having right now is that I’m not ready or willing to be in a relationship.
“Kels, take a walk on the beach with me?” Deke asks, walking closer to us. Tate does the same, topping off her wine glass, then tipping his head to the side as if to ask for more. I nod, already knowing this will be my last glass, or I’ll be stuck here for the night. No thanks.
“That sounds like a good idea as long as my wine is involved.” Kelsey jumps out of her seat like her ass is on fire. Clearly, Deke and my sister are scheming things. My eyes circle back to Tate. The slow sweep of his gaze glides along my body, not that I needed to see it; I could feel his gaze anywhere.
“Like I could pry that glass out of your hand anyways. Come on, troublemaker.” Deke takes her hand and guides her down the deck stairs. Neither Tate nor I say a word until they’re out of sight. Even then, it’s not me who says the first word. Sure, it was me who opened up to Kels, having her make this happen. You’d think that I’d shit or get off the pot. That’s not happening, though; instead, I watch as Tate takes a seat across from me. My legs uncross then recross the other way, the need building in my body as he rests in the chair, one arm on the chair, the other holding his beer, an ankle resting on the top of his knee, sitting in a slouched position. Tate’s eyes are hooded, much like the last time I saw them as he was tunneling in and out of me, right before he took me over the edge only to follow a few thrusts later.
“Em, babe.” Jesus, if I hadn’t just switched legs, I’d be doing it again, except I already know nothing is going to make this ache go away except Tate.
“Tate,” I reply when he doesn’t say anything, lifting my glass of wine to my lips and taking a sip, waiting for him to take the conversation further. His hair is falling down along his forehead, five-o’clock shadow peppering his jaw and cheeks, vivid green eyes on me, and even with the setting sun, I can see the intensity shining through them.
“Been a minute. Had you stayed the full night, I could have at least walked you to your room, gotten your number, and would have continued what we had these past six months instead of fuckin’ my fist thinking about all the things I’ve yet to do to your body.” Tate ends the sentence by taking a long pull from his bottle of beer. I wait for him to finish before I reply, meanwhile soaking in the presence he exudes.
“I probably should have at least told you I was leaving. You were asleep. I was worried things would get out and become weird. I’m glad you’re here tonight, though,” I attempt to play it cool when inside my nerves are frazzled. Me, the woman who doesn’t get nervous, who is full of confidence, yet I’m stuttering with this conversation.