The animosity in her tone stopped him short. This was awkward, sure, but they hadn’t parted on bad terms last night. Right? He’d thought so, but now he wasn’t so sure. Alex lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “I was working out. Same as you.”
“There are laws against stalking. Lots and lots of laws.”
Irritation flared, getting the best of his self-control. “Whoa there, Turbo. I was here first. It’s not my fault you didn’t look around before you started running, but it’s not like I snuck in here with the sole purpose to surprise you. If anyone is stalking, it’s you.”
She propped her hands on her narrow hips. “A likely story.”
He had no business drifting closer to her. None at all. “Are you pissed because you lost control last night? Or because I stopped us before we got what we both wanted?”
Her jaw dropped. “What? You… Why… No. I am not pissed at anything. I don’t even know you. Last night was an aberration and I’ll thank you never to speak of it again.”
An aberration, huh?
Maybe she didn’t do shit like make out with strangers. That was fine. He didn’t, either. Not anymore. But he could see the way her attention kept drifting to his mouth, as if she couldn’t help herself. And her nipples now pressed against the thin fabric of her bra. She wanted him, even if she’d probably throw herself through the glass door before she admitted as much.
A perverse part of him wanted to stay here and keep needling her until they ended up against a wall again and made a liar out of her. Instead, Alex moved to the door. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”
“That’s it?” She sounded so affronted, he barely held down a grin.
He half turned as he pushed the door open. “Yeah, that’s it. You don’t want me to speak of it, consider the subject muted. Have a nice vacation, Kendall.” Alex left the gym and headed for his cabin. Whatever this thing had been between him and Kendall, it was over. He didn’t get off on convincing reluctant partners into bed, and if she wasn’t reluctant, she was at least conflicted. Alex had pursued enough self-sabotage in his teens and early twenties to last a lifetime. He wasn’t going to play a part in someone else’s similar path.
Especially not when he had every intention of getting off this fucking ship in Orlando and catching the first flight back to Dawson’s Creek.
* * *
Kendall finished her run in a fury that resulted in her fastest six miles to date. Even that wasn’t enough to lift her mood. Not when she had the image of Alex tattooed into her brain. When his gaze had dropped to her breasts, to the clear indication of her arousal, she’d thought for sure he’d close the distance. That he’d take her mouth, maybe haul her over to the bench he’d just vacated and lay her down. That they’d get back to doing what they had been the night before, picking up right where they left off.
Instead, he’d left.
She unlocked her cabin door and pushed it open, but before she could walk in, the door next to hers opened. Grace stuck her head out, her dark eyes wide and panicked. “Kendall!”
Kendall froze. “Is everything okay?” If there was a problem, she could focus on fixing that instead of on the confusing feelings that plagued her whenever she thought about Alex. Which was nonstop since last night. “What can I do?”
“My clothes,” Grace whispered. “I don’t have vacation clothes.”
“Uh… why don’t you have vacation clothes?”
“Aubrey took my pants.”
To be honest, it sounded like something Aubrey would do, at least before life kicked her in the teeth after college. A little kernel of hope blossomed in Kendall’s chest. Maybe this trip wasn’t such a disaster after all. She tried to dampen her delight at having something besides herself to focus on. “Then we’ll get you some clothes. Give me thirty minutes to shower and get dressed and we’ll go, okay?”
Grace nodded. “Okay.”
As soon as she stepped into the small shower, Kendall’s mind betrayed her. She closed her eyes and the memory of Alex’s body against hers had her going from zero to nuclear in half a second. She pressed her lips together, trying to banish him. It didn’t work. Not when she swore she could still taste him, could feel his strength holding her in place as he drove her relentlessly toward orgasm. If he managed that without either of them taking off clothes, what could he accomplish if they were naked?
She skated a hand down her stomach and paused. She shouldn’t. Masturbating to a fantasy was fine when she had time on her hands and didn’t have a friend waiting for her. Doing it to an actual person she’d just had a conversation with this morning? Wicked. Wrong. So naughty, she could barely stand it.