Chapter five

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Three years ago

She chokes on her drink but tries to cover it up by clearing her throat every time a cough starts to rise up. Her mouth is pressed against the back of her small hand as she clears it one more time. "That's pretty straight forward." Once the words slip past her lips I realize what path her mind started to wander on and it takes every bit of willpower to hold back my laughter. This might get interesting.

"You already told me you don't want me running around in your head so I decided to ask this time." I shrug, pretending that throwing sex on the beach into the first five minutes of a conversation is nothing more than small talk for me. The expression on her face is priceless. She's a deer staring into the headlights of a giant truck, yet every muscle is trying to hide the fact my unexpected question threw her off her game. It is fucking adorable.

She is fucking adorable. She was when I strolled into the kitchen and saw her biting down her lip scanning every bottle, unable to choose which one would be her victim. Or maybe her savior. I haven't figured that out yet.

After a couple of seconds of inspecting every bottle she had randomly picked one up to read the inscriptions on the label. Then she had proceeded to open it before putting her nose above the hole for the entirety of one millisecond. Her nose had scrunched in disgust as she had snapped the bottle away from her as quickly as possible. I had walked further into the kitchen unnoticed, watching her open a couple more bottles before leaning back against the counter, a sigh leaving her body. Every movement had made a grin appear on my face, a grin that is now too playing on my lips.

"Do you always ask such personal questions the first five minutes of knowing someone?" Her narrow eyes match her defensive tone and the realization of the riskiness of the question hits me. I'm walking on thin ice and it either breaks, swallowing me whole, or I reach the surface unharmed. Normally the risk of being blown off doesn't bother me, better take the risk and drown than wonder what would've happened if I had taken it. Yet there is something about her that makes me want to reach the surface, that makes the sound of being blown off so much worse. I blink the thoughts away, slightly surprised they even popped up in my head.

"Depends on who I'm talking to." I tease, earning a pair of rosy cheeks. So fucking adorable.

"So you're serious?" She asks as if she's debating on whether or not she should answer.

"You don't have to answer," I reply, letting her know she doesn't need to feel pressured because I must admit, if I had meant the question in the way she thinks I did, it would've been a bold move. Even though I didn't intend for the conversation to take this turn, I can't say I'm not interested in her answer.

I lock my eyes on her coffee bean brown irises trying to figure out what's going on inside her mind. She switches between mine seemingly trying to do the same. "Well," she starts adverting her eyes to her feet dangling off the counter in hypnotizing circles.

My gaze travels back to her long chestnut waves falling over her muscled shoulders. "You know what, you go first." She quickly shoots and I laugh, relieved she isn't running away from me. Interesting.

"Fair enough." She hides her smile behind the cup of her cocktail and her eyes pin me to my place. They're filled with curiosity and the addicting sight makes me drag on the pause I'm taking. "Never tried it, but I wouldn't pass up the opportunity." Not once do I break our eye-contact as my confession increases the tension between us. God, those eyes.

"Yeah, but the sand?" She scrunches her nose as she asks, indirectly stating she's hasn't tried it either.

"What about it?"

"It goes everywhere." Between every word, there is a moment of hesitation. She shudders as if the thought alone tickles every sensitive spot on her skin.

"So you'd never try it?" I question.

"I didn't say that. But I mean," she adverts her gaze to the ceiling, searching for the right explanation. "I just don't get why people deliberately would choose to have sex on the beach when there are plenty of other places that don't involve the whole beach settling between your butt cheeks." The way she says butt cheeks shows her aversion of the idea.

I let her words sink in for a moment before responding. "I don't think people deliberately choose it, isn't it just the moment." She nods thinking it over unaware of her lower legs moving in circles again. She nips from the cup and hums to announce she has an addition to my statement.

"Or the thrill of having sex in a public place," she takes another sip, "the thrill of the possibility of getting caught." She spreads her arms waiting for my confirmation. I point my index finger at her to signal she is indeed right.

"Or the fact they want to scratch it off their bucket list," I add to our list of reasons why someone would fuck on the beach.

"Or maybe because life is about getting out of your comfort zone." I laugh at her sudden inspirational addition.

"Who's the philosophical one now?"

She gasps, the sarcasm dripping off of it. "Oh no," her hands clasp over her cheeks in concern, "I need to stop before my long, grey beard starts to grow."

"I think it's too late for that, Aristotle." I throw in the name of the first philosopher that pops into my mind and she frowns while a smile hugs her rosy cheeks.

"Aristotle?" A chuckle bubbles up.

"Yeah, I can already see a few hairs, here and there. Your beard is full-on growing." I scratch my own chin and cheekbones to indicate the places where I would supposedly see her beard growing. She playfully glares at me before tearing my ego down with one simple throw.

"Can't say the same for you, babyface."

"I do not have a babyface." My voice is stern, but it doesn't faze her.

She cocks her head sideways and covers her upper lip with her lower one as if she pitied me. "Don't you have a mirror or are your friends too polite to tell you the truth?" She is testing me, igniting a spark within me that sets my interests on her.

I stalk over to her, putting both my hands on either side of her hips, and pin my eyes on hers. Her sweet strawberry scent surrounds me, traps me close to her as it is oddly comforting. I lock my jaw restricting myself from leaning in further. "Look me in the eye and tell me I have a babyface." I dare her to tell me again.

A fake gasp leaves her lips, "Oh no, please, do not ask me to look into your piercing eyes, because one look and I would never be able to tell you." She turns towards me, a theatrical serious expression covering her face. She observes me for a few seconds, not realizing the effect it has on me. My heart races and my eyes fall to her lips. They look soft, perfect pink. She presses her teeth in her bottom lip and I swallow wishing I could do the same. Her serious mask suddenly drops as she smugly continues the conversation, snapping me out of my daze. "Yep, total babyface." I burst out a laugh before shaking my head causing her to break into chuckles too.

"I don't think my ego is going to survive this conversation," I confess and her smile drops in concern.

"Do you need a tissue for all your tears?" The sarcasm is dripping off of the tone in her voice, but I don't stop her, not wanting to rob her of the twinkle lighting up her eyes.

"I might if I keep talking to you." I joke, not caring at all as I'm finding this way more entertaining than offending.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'll start over, this time sparing, no, even better, picking your ego up from the ground." With open arms, she raises her hands as if she is picking up my invisible ego from the ground.

"Where you put it in the first place." I blame her pointing my finger in her direction.

"Details." She waves it away.

"Fine, go ahead," I say curious what next insult she's going to throw at my face. She clears her throat, shifting her teasing expression to a professional one. Both as equally sexy.

"Colin," her business voice exclaims while she folds her hands in her lap.

I mimic her crossing one leg over the other and locking my hands in each other. "Aristotle." The use of her new nickname causes her lips to twitch but she immediately fights it.

"I want to tell you that you'd be an absolutely," she accentuates the last word closing her eyes for a brief moment to show she absolutely means it. Now I'm fucking curious. "Mediocre bartender." I purse my lips, waiting for a second to be sure I can control the laughter building up inside my chest.

"You lifted it," I raise my hand, my eyebrows following the gesture, "and right when I thought that you'd actually succeed," I pause, "you dropped it again." With the words my hands fall to my side.

"Fine." She rolls her eyes. "You're an excellent bartender," I swirl my hand around as a gesture for her to continue, enjoying the moment of glory. "Because one," she holds up her index finger whilst sternly looking at me, "this drink might be delicious." The fact she still throws in the 'up for debate' part makes me huff. I have a feeling she can be pretty stubborn. Although, I'm not complaining. Who doesn't like a challenge, right?

"And two," a second finger joins her first, "you sold me another one." She holds out her cup for me to take which I do very gladly.

"Thank you very much, your second drink is on its way." I bow my head theatrically before I turn away to fulfill her request. I pour in the vodka, peach schnapps, and orange juice before finishing it off with the cranberry juice. I turn on my heel and give her her ordered cocktail. She takes a sip, licking the juice off of her upper lip before setting her teeth in her lower one, fully focused on examining the drink inside her hand.

My mind goes blank as my vision is stuck on those two soft looking pillows she calls her lips. I wonder if they're as soft as they look. And I wonder what she'd do if I tried to find the answer to that question. The images jump in front of my eyes. How I would stalk toward her and place myself between her legs to wrap them around me. How I would then devour her lips, tangle my fingers in her hair and press her closer to every part of me that could possibly desire her. How I-

"So, I'm curious, what exactly is it that I'm drinking?" I snap back to reality blinking the visions away. Fucking hell, get a grip of yourself.

"It's a Sex on the beach." Her eyes grow wide, her mouth slightly agape and she tries to hide her, very obvious, embarrassed expression by snorting.

"You're kidding right?" It comes out as a chuckle, yet not one where she actually intended to laugh. Her mouth is a half-smile, waiting for me to call out the joke I just made, yet it isn't and the contentment beaming off my face gives that all away. Her face drops again.

"I suddenly feel so much better." I sigh, my body filled with self-satisfaction as I lean against the counter opposite of her.

"And here I thought you just threw sex on the beach into the conversation like it was some kind of pickup line." My eyes dart to hers. Does she want it to be a pick-up line instead of a miscommunication? She did eventually answer, didn't she?

"So, let's say it was a pickup line." I push myself off the counter, my heart racing in my chest.

"Let's say it was." Her voice is humble, her cheekbones slightly colored and with every step I take, the desire in my fingers to caress the soft pink skin increases.

"A pretty risky one, I must admit." I take another step. Then another. She bites her inner cheek, only showing half of a smile and I catch myself wishing she wouldn't hold back.

"Correct." Another step. Her chest rises taking in a deep breath.

"Yet," I pause, stepping in between her legs. I softly place my hands on her knees and caress the fabric of her jeans with my thumb. Her breath hitches and her eyes flicker to my lips. "You're still here." My words are a mere whisper, dancing in the small space between us. My eyes root themselves in hers, like a tree in the rich ground of a forest. So dark and absorbing, yet bright and warm like the golden strays of sunlight in the fall.

My fingers slowly trail up her thighs as I lean in closer, brushing my nose against hers.

"I am." Her conformation is a bare breath against my mouth, playing with the distance between us. Teasing it. Daring it to fade away.

"Col, you better not be passed out on the floor doing our shots on you ow- ow, shit." Her head snaps away at the sound of Daniel bursting into the kitchen and she slips off the counter to put some distance between us, pretending we weren't at all on the verge of kissing.

Fucking great. Perfect timing. Really fucking perfect.

"Sorry, bro." He apologizes, flashing me a 'whoops'.

"Don't worry," she takes another step away from me and all I can think about is the fact I don't want her to leave. "I was just about to go find my friends." She grabs her drink from the kitchen island, quickly turns to me to grant me a soft 'thanks' before she hurries out the kitchen throwing me one more look over her shoulder.

God, those fucking eyes.


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