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An impossible something.
She clears her throat, breaking contact. “How’s your foot?”
“You don’t have to stay.” The words fall off my lips and I instantly regret them.
She straightens in her chair, and her expression shifts to hurt. “Do you want me to leave?”
Hell, no.
“No, but I don’t want you to stay because you feel guilty.”
She shifts her toes to the ground and leans forward. “I do feel bad. I took you out there.” The warm breeze picks up and whips her hair through the air. As if she couldn’t get any sexier, it’s like someone turned a fan on for a Sports Illustrated photo shoot.
“This wouldn’t have happened if you wouldn’t have caught the ball,” I tease, even though it’s the truth. I wouldn’t have been jumping up and down.
She gasps. “What! You’re blaming me because of that?” She stands up and walks over to me, sticks her finger down in the bucket to test the temperature. She gestures for me to take my foot out so she can refill it. “Did you realize that maybe you’re overpaid when an island girl can do your job?”
Her banter is refreshing. I need a woman like her to keep me on my toes. I hear the sink turn off and she comes back out. Smart-ass puts her finger in the bucket to show me it’s not bad. I roll my eyes, sinking my foot again.
“I bet you used to run all over these boys playing socc… football.”
Her grin grows as she recalls a memory. “Dante used to hate when I wanted to play. His friends stopped telling him when a game was happening, afraid I’d tag along.”
I can imagine her kicking ass to prove girls are as good as boys. Those were always the girls I was attracted to. I’m not sure when that changed. No, I know when it was. When beautiful women with fake huge tits would do whatever the hell I wanted them to do. I lost my craving for strong women because I had an abundance of weak ones. It was easier to deal with them when I was putting all my energy into building my football career.
But I want more. I don’t want easy.
“Do you have any girlfriends?”
She cocks her hip out. “Why? Are you tired of me already?”
“Definitely not. I just figured you were the type to have a lot of guy friends and few girlfriends.”
She shrugs and plops down in the chair. “I guess. I didn’t have a lot of any friends growing up. My dad tolerated Dante, but he kept me pretty isolated from the locals.” Dante was right. Her dad seems crazy. “You’re thinking he was a horrible dad.”
Maybe crazy, not horrible. She seems to have her shit together and loves her dad so he couldn’t be that bad. “Whiskey, I’m not one to judge. My dad rode my ass my entire life to be a better football player. I was never good enough for him. Even when he was on his deathbed, he made me swear I would continue working harder.”
I stare out to the calm water. A pain lives in my chest because we didn’t have a good relationship. His constant push and my rebellious pull had us at odds most nights.
“What happened to him,” she whispers.
Closing my eyes, I answer, “He was in a car accident. There was a complication with his surgery. I was sixteen.” There are very few people that has heard this story. I’ve always been afraid of people taking my stories and turning them into headlines. But with Aspen, I didn’t even hesitate.
When I hear the creak of a chair, I open my eyes. She steps over and sits on the table next to the chair, laying her hand on top of mine. “I’m so sorry.” I don’t dare move a muscle having her this close to me, touching me. Warmth from her fingers spreads up my arm.
“It’s okay. My mom and I survived. I’m a huge momma’s boy because of it.” I can’t help myself. I lift her hand in mine and kiss the backside. My lips tingle against her skin and my gaze glued to her face, tries to read her. Can I keep going?
She stands straight up, silently answering my question. “I have an idea to make you feel better.” I wag my brows. I know a way. Dipping her head slightly, she adds, “Not that, Ryker. I’ll be back.” She spins on her bare feet and rushes out the front door.
After ten minutes, I splash my foot in the lukewarm water. I shouldn’t have kissed her hand. She probably said she’d be right back as an excuse to get the hell out of here. Rolling my neck to crack it, I push up to change my water.
The door clicks open as I’m dumping the water and I balance on one foot. “What are you doing?” she exclaims, rushing over to me.
I hold out the empty bucket. “Water was cold.”
She winces. “Sorry. It took a little longer than expected. But I have these…” She swings her hands in front of her, presenting me with five wrapped cookies. My mouth waters as I drop the bucket and reach for the sugar greatness. “I heard a rumor you enjoyed these.”
I untie the blue ribbon, all the while still standing on one foot. “Enjoy is putting it mildly. More like addicted.” I shove the entire cookie in my mouth and bite down. I hum as the sweet taste fills every taste bud on my tongue. “These are so fucking good,” I say, covering my mouth full of cookie, trying not to look like a savage.
