Sweet Alibi (8 page)

“Sleep well?” He took a sip of his coffee.

“Not really.” I frowned before taking my first sip of the hot liquid.

“Everything okay?” He turned to me with a concerned look on his face.

“I have nightmares that come and go. It's nothing, really, just some lost sleep.” I chewed on my bottom lip, downplaying the severity. “Being away from Kyle makes it worse,” I said absentmindedly. He nodded and continued to stare at the rolling waves. Long moments passed in peace as I nursed my coffee and thought about the summer stretched out before us.

“Is he going to come down soon?” Tristan asked quietly.

“Kyle?” His question shook me from my thoughts. “He's busy, but I hope so. We’ve never been apart for so long.”

“Must be hard to be separated from someone you love.” 

“Yeah, it is,” I murmured. “What about you? I know you’re not seeing anyone, but what about family?” 

“Not really much to report there. My dad still lives in Jacksonville, but things with him are… strained,” he trailed off before continuing. “My mom left when I was a kid. Just disappeared one day. She left a note, called once or twice a year after that, sent a birthday card now and again, but I haven't seen her since.”

Tears pooled in my eyes at his admission. “I’m sorry.” He’d talked about his mom before
―
that she was a literature major and had named him after the story of Tristan and Isolde, but it hadn’t seemed like a sensitive subject at the time.

“Nothing I’m not used to.” He shrugged. “Dad went off the rails after that. Drank too much, trouble keeping a job. He always said true love is fragile and fleeting. He is wise, but broken.”

“He never found anyone else?” I watched the thoughtful, beautiful man next to me. My heart ached for the small, golden-haired boy who grew up without his mother’s love.

“No, it's been hard for him. He loved her, more than himself, I think. He says it was love at first sight. She tore his heart out when she left and he’s had trust issues ever since.”

“Is that why you...?” I couldn't finish my sentence and locked my lips closed.

“What?” 

“Don’t make me say it.” A smile lit my lips.

“What are you talking about, Georgia?” His grin grew wider.

“You know,” my voice softened as I held his gaze.

“Drew filled you in, then?”

“Umm,” I averted my gaze.

“Have I avoided finding the right girl and settling down because of my dad?” A flirtatious glint lit his eyes, sending tingles to my lower body. “I s’pose so.” He took a long draw of his coffee.

“Do you think you’ll find her someday?” I asked.

I watched his fingertip trace the rim of the mug as he thought. “Maybe…” A frown twitched across his lips then disappeared.

“Have you ever been in love?” I watched him thoughtfully, trying to figure out the charming, easy-going, alluring man that sat beside me.

“I don't think so,” he answered after a few beats. “Are you in love with Kyle?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Was he your first?” A teasing grin lifted the corner of his mouth.

“That’s personal, Mr. Howell,” I teased back.

His eyes shot up in surprise before his grin grew, revealing his perfect white teeth. “That’s a yes, then?” His eyes twinkled mischievously, sending my body head first into a slow sizzle.

“Yes.” I scrunched my nose up at him before shoving him playfully.

“Is he your only?”

“Are you always so probing?” I winced as the word left my lips.

His eyebrows shot up as a mischievous sparkle lit his eyes. “No comment.”

I sighed. “No, he's not my only. We’ve broken up a few times, dated other people, but we always came back. I guess that's how I know it's true love.”

“Just because you keep coming back to the same person doesn’t make it true love, it might mean you haven't found the right one yet,” he murmured, his eyes trained on mine.

“Well, thanks for imparting your wisdom.” I retorted. “I love Kyle. I’ve always loved Kyle. We’re two pieces of the same puzzle.”

“It's good you feel that way.” He turned to look back out at the water.

“What does that mean?”

“It seems you’ve got it all figured out.” He finished his coffee and stood. “I’ve got to call a client. Later, Georgia.” He twisted a lock of my hair that had fallen across my cheek before tucking it behind my ear and leaving. Frowning, I considered his mysterious words. I knew Tristan was a hopeless flirt and a ladies’ man, but he was also sensual, thoughtful, and emotional.

I trained my eyes on the horizon and inhaled the thick ocean air. I closed my eyes as the sweet sea breeze picked up a few stray tendrils and curled them around my neck. I was sure of two things in my life
―
that I’d found true love with Kyle, and buying this house on the beach had been the best decision I’d ever made.

Nine

Tristan

I crawled out of bed just as dawn started to peak though the curtains and stumbled to the bathroom. I splashed water on my face and scrubbed with my palms, trying to erase the memory of the beautiful brown eyes that had been haunting me since I’d stepped into this house a week ago.
 

I took a deep breath and pushed myself away from the bathroom counter and back into the bedroom. Tugging on a pair of jogging shorts, I headed out the door, feet pounding the sand as my thoughts ran wild about the girl I was supposed to spend a completely platonic summer with.
 

 
This girl was affected. I could feel it. I could see it in her eyes. I knew I shouldn’t get involved with her. I knew it would only lead to trouble
—
not something I always avoided
—
but this girl had been hurt. She’d been broken. She thought she hid it well, but the pain behind her smile, the sadness in her eyes was always there.
 

I ran down the shoreline and pushed myself harder than I normally did. I ran for miles before I
 
turned and headed back to the house, slowing my pace only marginally, both dreading reaching the sprawling beach house and wanting to get back to see her face as soon as possible. I padded up the stairs to the house just as the sun was cresting over the horizon. I passed the chairs on the deck and thought of Georgia curled up in her cute little sleep shorts and thin tank, thick waves of brown hair cascading around her shoulders, her full pink lips curved in a smile.
 

I loved how I couldn’t bullshit her. She threw it back at me just as easily as I dealt it instead of getting flustered like most girls. Just thinking of her rolling her eyes; that indulgent smile crossing her lips, had my balls tingling.
 

Fuck I needed to do something about that. I headed for the shower and let the thoughts of her smooth, tanned skin overtake my mind as I took my dick in my hand and jerked myself off to thoughts of her sweet, pink lips around my cock. I finished in a few short minutes and then soaped up quickly, washing my hair and then jumping out and toweling off. I pulled on a pair of faded jeans and a t-shirt and then headed to the porch. The overcast skies had opened up and a light mist dampened the air. It was completely appropriate for the mood I was in.

I felt like a fucking teenager beating off in the shower. I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d had to do that just to relieve some pressure
—
but then again if this were any other girl I would have fucked her and moved on already.
 

But she wasn't any other girl. I couldn’t just fuck her and move on. God knows I wanted to
—
soon and often. As often as she'd let me. Multiple times a night.
 

But I also liked talking to her too.
 

I chewed on my bottom lip thinking all of this when I heard soft footsteps on the deck. “Hey.” I turned and smiled up at her. Damn if she wasn’t more gorgeous every time I saw her.
 

“Hey. I made coffee.”
 

“Thanks. I'm slacking this morning.” I threw her that grin. You know, that one that had every girl I’d ever met dropping their panties for me.
 

Except this girl. This girl wasn't interested. At least she pretended she wasn't. And despite the fact that it’d felt fantastic to hold her in my arms when she'd stumbled on the boat—and I was pretty confident that she’d felt the same—she'd still jumped away awkwardly after a few moments.
 

“I was getting spoiled.”

I could spoil you Georgia, in so many ways.
 

I declined when she offered to get me a cup and I placed my hand on hers to stop her from leaving. Her skin was so fucking soft beneath my fingertips I couldn’t help but want to run my hands up and down her body. An image flashed in my mind of her writhing underneath me. Sliding my hands up and underneath that flimsy little tank top, my thumbs brushing her nipples, her thighs pressing together as I sucked the flesh under her ear.
 

Fuck me I was hard again. Thirteen. I was a horny, fucking thirteen-year-old again.
 

I pulled my hand away and muffled a groan in the back of my throat.
 

“Any reason you’re sitting out here in the rain?” She said softly. The low timbre of her voice went straight to my balls.
 

“I like the summer rain—the smell of it—the feel of the damp breeze against your face. It’s soothing, cleansing.” Except right now. Right now all I could focus on was touching her again.
 

She murmured that she liked it too and then we fell silent. The wind whipped between us, the waves rolled up the shore and my mind was consumed with finding a way to get this girl in my bed.
 

My lips on her skin.
 

My fingers twisted in her hair.
 

I shrugged when she asked me if I liked the water. I ran my fingers absentmindedly along the old, weathered wood of the deck chair. I needed to do something to let out this pent up energy that was coursing through my veins. I couldn’t think straight. Every spare minute was torture when I had to live in the same house with this girl.
 

I heard her shuffle in her seat and I turned, my eyes searching her face. Her brown irises held my own and I couldn’t look away. Her soft lips opened as she inhaled and my eyes zeroed in on the tiny movement. I grinned, enjoying the moment as the energy coursed between us.

Finally she moved, pulling her thick, damp hair off her neck and twisting it to land over her shoulder, exposing the creamy skin to my hungry eyes.

“You’re getting wet,” I murmured before tucking a damp strand behind her ear. The barest of touches had my dick pressing painfully against the zipper of my jeans. She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth and fuck me if it didn’t send my thoughts into a spiral. I needed those lips. Needed her hands on me. Needed to feel her skin against mine.
 

I needed her.
 

All of her.
 

Now.
 

“Georgia,” I whispered just before I leaned into her, pressing my lips to hers in a feather-light kiss. She squirmed and I pulled only a breath away to give her an out. I didn’t want to force her. I knew how she felt—or what she thought she felt anyway—and I knew a girl like her couldn’t be pushed. My name escaped her lips on a soft breath and my heart pounded in my chest. It was confirmation that she wanted this. She wanted us. I could feel it. I brought my hand up to her cheek, my thumb caressing the soft skin, damp from the rain.

“I don’t know what this is between us, Georgia, but I want to find out,” I said as my eyes searched her face before landing on her eyes, begging her to let me kiss her again.
 

“Me too,” she breathed before pressing her lips to mine, firmer this time. Hunger and passion ignited as our mouths opened and our tongues danced together. The blood pumped through my body at full force as I tasted her for the first time. Her soft coconut scent surrounded me, her lips like sweet sugar, the taste of vanilla on her mouth from her coffee creamer.

I wrapped my hands around the back of her neck and threaded my fingers in her hair, my thumbs landing on her cheekbones as I held her face while I explored her mouth.
 

Both of her hands slid up and tugged at the hair at the back of my neck. A small groan escaped my throat. She was so much better than I'd imagined. Her lips pressed to mine was fucking perfect. A perfect fucking symphony of sensation that hummed throughout my entire body.

Until in one instant her lips were pressed to mine, our bodies pulled together by some unforeseen force, and the next they weren't. She murmured something as she pulled away.
 

Fuck.
 

I watched her, my breaths coming out in shallow pants, my dick throbbing painfully in my jeans.
 

She mumbled an apology, saying that it couldn’t happen again, before she darted back into the house.
 

Fuck.
 

Fuck.
 

Fuck.
 

It had to happen again.
 

Now that I’d had her body pressed to mine, her hands threaded in my hair, the taste of her on my lips, I couldn’t let it go. I was even more fucked than I’d been five minutes ago. I ran a hand through my hair and clenched my jaw as I turned back to the waves rolling up the coast. The sky grew darker and the rain came down harder but I didn’t notice any of it because all I could think of was getting close to Georgia again.