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A hand curves lightly around my waist, and then his voice is by my ear. His breath tickles my skin. “Sit back properly, Eden,” he says. “It’s safer.”
He tastes like fresh coffee and rum, and I close my eyes against the nearness. It’s foreign and not quite right, but then he tilts his head, and all of a sudden, we fit. His lips move steadily on mine. Like he’s thought about kissing me before.
“Depends,” I say. “Do you want to get murdered and give me a story?” His eyes widen, and then he smiles. It lights up his tanned face. “By you? Any day.”
Phillip had kissed me until the downpour lessened, until the heavy drops turned into a soft drizzle, and the sun made its triumphant return. I’d tipped my head back and whispered that I could get used to this. He’d paused, lips at my neck, and a splinter of fear cut through the feelings of pleasure. I hadn’t meant to hint at the future. It didn’t exist, not yet, not here. But then, he’d continued to kiss me as if I hadn’t spoken, and that had been that.
Caleb wants me back. I press a hand to my mouth, laughter bubbling up. He must be delusional to think I’d ever consider that.
“Wonder what you’ll get up to.” “Who knows? I could do anything at all,” I say. “I heard those fancy bungalows have private pools. Might go skinny-dipping.” His breath hitches. “Really?” “Mm-hmm.” “Funny, that. I have a bungalow.” “No, you do?” “Yes.”
Eden, Please find the money you paid me back for our first dinner enclosed. You said you couldn’t let me pay for it, because that would have made it a date. Well, this is me saying it was. Our first. These weeks with you have been some of my happiest. I know you’re still getting over an ex, and you just wanted a rebound, not to mention the long-distance thing. But all I know, standing here and writing a postcard because you had this wild idea (and I can’t seem to say no to any of your wild ideas), is that I need to see you again. My phone number is below. One text from you, and I can be on the
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