Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77841 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
And curiosity is danger.
But I also know myself.
I know that if I don't get closer, if I don't learn more about her, I'm going to be obsessed with the idea of her. I can't allow anybody to have that sort of real estate in my head.
It leaves me distracted.
It leaves me open to making mistakes.
I hate making mistakes.
I pride myself on being able to work and accomplish the goals that I set out, on not looking back and wondering what I could’ve done differently.
When Nash's eyes dart in my direction, I refocus on the waves rolling against the shore, praying he didn't notice that I was watching her.
The last thing I need is for either of these guys to give me shit after Hollis gave Nash a hard time for paying attention to the woman in the white bikini.
Despite not looking at her directly, I still track her in my peripheral vision.
She's alone. She's not here with a group of friends. She's not smiling and bouncing around or even trying to get involved in the volleyball game that the girl in the white bikini is recruiting for.
“I'm about over this bullshit,” Hollis says as he pushes himself up from the beach chair.
I glanced down at his foot. Sand is spilling from the end of his cast as he raises his foot and tries to shake it free.
He's never going to get the sand out of his cast, and it's going to be a constant irritation for the next several weeks that it's still on his foot. This makes me smile, and I know it makes me an asshole. But they’ve both annoyed me today, and a little discomfort on his part is just the level of retribution I need to make it worth it.
“Leaving, man?” Nash asks.
“Yeah,” Hollis responds. “I've got better shit to do than sit here and get sunburned on the damn beach.”
I give him a half-assed wave as he turns to leave, praying that Nash will find something else to do so I can put my focus back where it seems to want to go.
The girl walks further down the beach, and there's no way for me to continue watching her without making it obvious, so I try to give up on the idea of her.
I feel Nash’s eyes on the side of my face, and reluctantly, I give him the attention that he's seeking because God knows how he'd respond if I ignore him.
“What?” I ask when he just grins at me.
He angles his head in the direction of the girl in the white bikini, and without looking in that direction, I sense her walking toward us.
His grin is wide as if he's won some sort of prize as she closes the distance with a volleyball in her hand. The man really seems like he’s won some competition, and I know the next time he sees Hollis, he's going to give him shit for even mentioning that he couldn't score this girl. The man has to know that he hasn't scored her yet.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Nash says, his fake country accent out in full force.
The girl walks up, bouncing on her feet, tits jiggling for the world to see.
“Do you want to play some volleyball?” She holds the ball out as if both of us are too stupid to know what she's referring to.
Nash doesn't respond immediately. He simply gives her a wicked smile, a knowing smile, an invitation that lets her know he’d rather she got down on her knees right now than play in the sand.
It’s a smile that I’m certain with her more-than-likely extensive experience she’s very capable of understanding.
“I won't go easy on you,” Nash says. “I'm a very competitive man.”
A glint fills her eyes, as if he's telling her that he will fight any man on this beach just to spend more time with her.
“You're not the only one who's told me that today,” she counters.
Nash stands from his beach chair, holding his hand out for the ball when she readily offers it to him.
He tosses it back and forth from one hand to the other as his eyes skate down her body.
“Don't say I didn't warn you.” He steps up closer to her. “No complaining if you don't like how this turns out.”
I hear the threat in his words. The man isn’t talking about the damn game they’ll play for a while as a pretense of the night he has planned for the two of them.
She giggles, a grating noise that I'm sure works on many men.
Nash doesn't even look over his shoulder as he walks away to join the group of people that she's gathered for the game.
With his attention averted, I'm now able to look around for the woman in the one-piece bathing suit, but I don't see her anywhere.