Page 42 of Bayside Heat
Try being in my shoes.
“There is so much sexual tension between you two, I’m surprised you don’t leave a trail of fire in your wake,” Dean said. “That’s obviously why she’s never gone home with any of the guys who hit on her.”
Good. Drake had been the one to drive her most of those times, but he wasn’t fooling himself. She’d never hidden the fact that she’d gone on occasional dates, and each and every time had been excruciating for him.
“Don’t get your hopes up too high,” Drake said as they slowed to a walk by the inn. “She’s on her way to Boston, and my life is here. I meant it when I said I’d never make her choose or stand in her way.”
“It’s only a half hour flight from P-town,” Dean reminded him. “An hour and a half by car without traffic.”
“What’s your plan? You can’t just sleep with her and let it go at that,” Rick said protectively.
“Don’t you think I know that? I’m the one who”—loves her. Holy shit. I really do love her—“has been watching out for her all this time. And we didn’t sleep together.”
They looked at him like he wasn’t making sense.
“Then what’s got your nuts in a knot?” Dean asked.
Rick grinned. “That he didn’t sleep with her, obviously.”
Drake glared at him.
“Come on. I’m starved.” Rick started up the path toward the inn. “You can expect eggs Benedict or something equally amazing today, and yes, I expect a thank-you.”
Dean scoffed. “Real men don’t brag.”
The last thing Drake wanted to do was to sit around the breakfast table watching those two make out with their women while his girl was setting up house in Boston. “I’m out of here.”
“You going to be around later?” Rick called after him.
Drake turned around. “Yeah. Why?”
“We’ve got to talk about hiring someone. She’s gone, man, and you know Serena. Even if she hates her job, she’s not coming back to run the office.”
“Emery and Harper agreed to help out, but we need someone permanent,” Dean pointed out.
Drake’s gut twisted. He hadn’t even realized he was holding on to the hope that Serena might come back. Rick was right. She’d see it as a failure. She was all about moving forward. Her voice traipsed through his mind. I won’t end up like my mother, running through quicksand with the hopes of someone else creating a life for me. Every time she got her foot on solid ground, she’d meet a guy and backslide into the muck of wishful thinking. Wishes don’t make dreams come true. Only hard work can do that.
He looked at Rick’s and Dean’s expectant faces. He’d been pushing away his true emotions for so many years, he had a feeling the ones he’d finally unleashed were only skimming the surface. He hadn’t realized how messed up he’d been over Serena’s leaving. He was damn lucky they’d put up with his attitude.
“I’ll be in the office later,” he said. “We’ll go through the résumés and bring back the best three candidates. I’m sure one of them will be fine.”
He jogged across the sand toward the office, imagining Serena’s car parked out front. His heart sank. The exact opposite of the reaction he’d had every time he’d seen it, day after fucking day.
He went into the office and stopped in front of her desk. Harper would be there soon, and then Emery, and then some other person. As he headed upstairs to his apartment, he tried to come to grips with the reality that he’d never again see her beautiful face behind that desk. It felt strangely like one of their connections had severed, even though another one had developed.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he threw open his apartment door, grabbed his phone from the dresser behind the door, and thumbed out a text to Serena on his way to the kitchen. Just got back from my run. Miss seeing you already. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and guzzled it down, contemplating the text. He set the bottle on the counter, deleted the text, and typed, I bet Boston looks brighter with you in it.
“Damn it.” That made him sound like a chick.
