They can probably sense that he values women about as much as he values the fish in the custom tank in his apartment—the ones he never remembers to feed and simply replaces when they go belly-up.
Cool women are generally smart women, and they seem to see through Eric’s facade from the get-go and steer clear.
“Her name is Maddie.” I try to keep my tone light, but know I’ve failed when Eric’s smirk spreads wider and Freddie laughs beneath his breath.
“Maddie,” Freddie mimics with an exaggerated sigh, batting his eyelashes. “What a pretty name.”
“Shut up.” I toss my wadded napkin at Freddie’s face, but the other man dodges it easily.
Freddie’s smaller than both Eric and me, but he’s lean and fast, making him one of the best tillermen I’ve ever met. He also went through a rough divorce last year and doesn’t seem quite ready to jump back into the dating pool. Several cute women tried to start a conversation with him while we were goofing off on the beach earlier, but Freddie wasn’t anything more than polite.
“Relax.” He holds up his hands in surrender. “She’s gorgeous, man, and she and her friends seem cool. I say go for it.”
“Yeah, and she’s got amazing tits,” Eric says, earning a scowl from me. Eric and I have never been as close as Freddie and I are, and hearing Eric talk about Maddie like she’s a piece of meat reminds me why.
“Manners, man,” Freddie says, beating me to it. “You’re not at a strip club.”
“No, if I were, I wouldn’t be surrounded by sixes and sevens.” Eric sighs as he casts a bored glance around the picnic tables, where the crowd is thinning as people finish their meals and retreat to the beach or down the trails for one last hike before darkness falls. “Or if I were, at least they’d be topless.” He shifts his attention my way again. “So, are you coming or not?”
“We were going to head into town,” Freddie supplies. “Thought we might hit that honky-tonk we saw near the exit to the highway, get a few beers, see if Eric has better luck with the ladies there.”
Eric punches Freddie on the arm hard enough to make the smaller man grunt. “Half these women are closet dykes, man,” he says. “That’s the only reason I’m striking out.”
“I’m going to stay here,” I say, resisting the urge to tell Eric his attitude is the issue, not any of the women’s sexual orientation. But I have better things to do than fight with Eric, namely finding Maddie and putting an end to the suspense that’s had my stomach in knots all day.
“All right. Good luck with your girl.” Freddie claps me on the back as he stands and collects his empty plate.
“Yeah, at least one of us should get some action this weekend,” Eric says as he rises and follows Freddie.
As they walk away, I send up a silent prayer of thanks that neither of them heard anything while Maddie was in my tent last night. I don’t want to share those sexy little sounds she makes when she comes with anyone.
Speaking of Maddie…
And coming.
Fuck, I’d really like to make her come again tonight, preferably while she’s on top, riding me while I worship her gorgeous breasts.
I let my gaze skim across the remaining diners, chest going tight when I lock eyes with Maddie across the picnic tables. I’ve caught her watching me. Hopefully that’s a good sign, and not an indication that she’s thinking about ways to let me down easy.
I throw away my plate, trying not to feel guilty for leaving it half-full, though being raised to “waste not, want not,” is a habit that dies hard.
But I was too nervous to eat.
Too nervous to eat?
What are you, a sixteen-year-old girl?
“Apparently,” I mutter to myself, downing the rest of my beer and tossing the bottle into the recycling container, pulse picking up as Maddie excuses herself and starts my way, looking good enough to have for dessert.
Chapter Seven
Jamison
In a dark blue sundress and a pair of flat sandals, Maddie shouldn’t take my breath away, but she does.
I can’t keep my eyes from skimming over her—from the curly brown hair bouncing around her shoulders, to her curves, to her toned legs disappearing into her sensible sandals.
Yes, indeed, she looks good enough to devour, and I suddenly find I’ve recovered my appetite, one that won’t be satisfied by ribs or potato salad.
“Want to walk on the beach?” she asks as she comes to stand in front of me, a cautious look in her eyes that does nothing to allay my fears.
So what if she tries to let you down easy?
That doesn’t mean that’s the end of it.
You don’t go down easy—never have, never will.
“Sounds good.” I fall in beside her as she sets off toward the waves pounding the shore.
It’s true, I’ve never gone down easy, but that isn’t always a good thing. If I’d given up the first time Wendy and I called it quits, I could have spared us both so much guilt and heartache.
But I hadn’t backed off, I’d used the way Wendy touched me every chance she got—my arm, my shoulder, my back—as an excuse to cross the line again and get her back in my bed. She certainly hadn’t put up a fight, but still…
Things could have been different—would have been different if I’d simply taken “it’s over” for an answer the first time.
But I don’t want to take no for an answer with Maddie.
Last night was more than insanely hot sex, it was one of the best nights of my life. Bar none. And it isn’t simply that I’ve finally met a woman whose appetite is as voracious as my own. It’s because that woman is Maddie, a person who’s been my friend since I was too young to understand that the warm, safe feeling that filled my chest when I was around her was a kind of love.
And how’s love working out for you so far, buddy? Seems like you tend to fuck it up and wreck people’s lives in the process.
Keep this up, and you just might wreck Maddie, too.
I pull in a breath that emerges as a sigh as Maddie steps onto the sand, grateful the sound is swallowed by the roar of the waves, which are so much bigger tonight.
It’s true; I tend to hurt the women I fall for. And I’m already on the verge of falling for Maddie. I would never intend to hurt her, but…I might. By accident. By being a fuck up who doesn’t know how to do love right.
And then I will have ruined one of my longest-standing friendships.
But then, I meant what I said to Maddie earlier—I can’t go back to the way things were between us. The memory of fucking her in the moonlight filtering through my tent while she looked at me like I was the best thing to happen to her body is permanently etched on my brain. We’re either going to move forward as more than friends, or we aren’t going to move forward at all.
Things have already irrevocably changed.
The knowledge makes my palms sweat as Maddie turns to me, the setting sun catching the caramel streaks in her hair, making her even prettier.
“So?” I ask after an uncomfortable moment of silence. “What’s the verdict?”
“What’s your end game?” she asks, answering my question with a question.