Page 44 of Fire Island
I only hope he hasn’t changed his mind about me.
Hopefully he’ll conveniently never remember the ridiculous promise he made me swear to. That’s one part of us he would do well to forget permanently.
The hope that’s been poking its head up since the moment I found out he was alive and well rears up for another look. It’sa shy little thing. But in its defense, it has every reason to be afraid. Despite that, I stay positive. I can do this.
After everything we have been through, falling in love again should be the least of our worries.
We can do this.
I can do this.
Twelve
CALLUM
Ican’t do this.
I lie in my own bed. In my own damn house. The shower is running. The door is open. What the hell? Has the twentysomething never heard of boundaries? She hums away like she hasn’t a care in the world. And my traitorous mind is flooded with images of her naked, wet, and soaping her elegant fucking limbs one by one.
Now I’m goddamn hard.
Impossibly so.
With a groan, I roll over and bury my head into the pillow on the other side of the bed. Something floral hits me, and I jerk back up. It smells suspiciously like the woman now occupying my shower.
The hell?
Did the little pervert sneak in here in the middle of the night and sleep in the big bed?
Who does that?
My engorged cock presses into the mattress, not helping where my head is at right now. The water shuts off, and I do my best to feign sleep. The door is half open, steam curling out as I force my eyes closed. The curtain rustles, gliding along the metalrod. I imagine she steps over the side of the tub with one long, elegant leg.
Fuck’s sake, pull yourself together.
Christ, must have been a solid three years since I’ve been laid, too, if the rock-hard cock in my boxers is anything to go by. Just my luck, holed up on a floating rock with the only woman that’s ever had this effect on me. The only woman who is entirely out of bounds.
She’s far too young. She ain’t staying. And she’s Iris’s friend.
No-go zone.
Ahardno.
Urgh, that makes it fucking worse. I tried being nice, thinking it would help. But the moment I saw her in Iris’s tiny bathroom back on the mainland, biting her bottom lip like she was keeping back a million thoughts that were desperate to transform into words, I felt it.
The duality of déjà vu slips over my mind. The closest thing to a memory I’ve had since I woke up. Her bottom lip through her teeth.
Fuck.
“Oh, morning,” a happy voice chirps.
I open my eyes to find a dressed woman toweling her long hair, a sweet smile plastered over her face. Like she isn’t in my bedroom while I’m in bed. Like she didn’t just get naked mere feet away from me. Making herself at home.
Christ.
“You shower in strangers’ homes often?” I grunt out.
She opens her mouth to respond but closes it a beat later.
