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Falling in love did nothing but make her look fucking stupid.
“Oh? Do tell. I’m afraid I won’t be able to live my life until Nathaniel Whitford tells me what he thinks of me.”
Miraculously, they’ve been having a civil conversation for at least four minutes. A world record.
What he does know is that he’d do anything to get rid of that sad look in her eyes.
His chest tightens. All because of her.
It makes him itch. Makes him want to get down on his knees and tie those fucking laces. And maybe get a closer look at those tattoos.
Ash studies him intently. “You have psychopath eyes, you know.” He lets out a sound of frustration. “Probably because I want to murder you.”
Ash is holding her phone up to the sky like she’s trying to signal the aliens to take her back to her home planet.
“You heard me?” Of course he heard her. She’s the loudest living thing on the entire planet.
Ash is a 360-degree eye roll.
Her brain forever chemically altered with one hit of him.
Because, holy shit, is this the hottest thing a man has ever done for her? On his knees tying her shoes?
She’ll literally rip her eyes out of her face if she doesn’t stop checking out Nathaniel Whitford.
He’s soaking wet, but so is she.
“Catching up on Cryptozoology Weekly?” “Monthly, actually,” Ash deadpans. “Only so much can happen in thirty days.”
Then, in a disappointing move of modesty, he pulls a shirt from his gym bag and shrugs it on.
Her diabetes is not the thing. It’s just her thing.
It’s a strange sensation. A man listening.
News in their family travels fast and usually incorrectly.
Delaney, hand shielding her eyes, surveys her. “She looks like she could cut you.” “She would cut me.”
She’s like an eclipse. Dark and light. Terrifying and fascinating. A once-in-a-lifetime event to remember before it’s gone.
And suddenly he’s surprised to find that yellow is his favorite fucking color.
Delaney tilts her head. “You’re a Scorpio, right?” Wordlessly, Ash nods.
His Ash-centric brain doesn’t like the thought of her not eating.
“I’m in my overwhelmed mommy era,” Tessie hisses.
Nathaniel Whitford is not the worst. She is.
So what if she could lap water out of the grooves of his abs? Eyes
She doesn’t have to hate him anymore. What a disappointment.
She’s a mix tape blasted to the max, and even then, he wants to crank the dial until it snaps.
“Pain in my ass,” he snaps, before softening his voice for her. “Come on, let’s go.”
“It’s dangerous.” “I like danger. It’s—” She gasps. A mischievous smile curls her lips. “It’s your middle name, isn’t it?” He rolls his eyes. “You looked it up?” Funny, how his heart beats double-time at the thought.
The bulge in his fucking pants mocks him.
His laugh makes her want to drink it down.
The scruff on his jawline competes with his full lower lip for sexiest feature of the year.
She stares into the sun, sacrificing her retinas so she doesn’t have to make eye contact with Nathaniel.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Ash says as she passes the people. “He’s a nepo baby. No one ever said no to him when he was a child.”
The shave ice is cold and icy and sweet-bitter and probably exactly what Nathaniel Whitford’s heart tastes like. Delicious.
Nathaniel’s blazing gaze skims her face. The look twists her insides into heart-shaped bruises.
His palm is big as hell. A tap on her ass would probably sound like a microwave being slammed shut.
She needs an exorcism.
“You annoy him.” Ash laughs. “That’s what I like to hear.”
She’s beautiful. So beautiful that she scalds his blood.
She seems like the type to take a long nap after a day on the beach, not because she’s lazy, but because she’s like a cat and prefers to bask in the sun, and goddamn if he’ll interrupt her.
Because it’s Ash. Carefree and careless. And always primed to give him a heart attack.
“I couldn’t find you,” he rasps. The instinct she triggers in him is primal. He reaches out, slides his arms around her slender waist to pull her to him. The moment she’s in his arms, his tension ebbs.
Rile, react, repeat.
“Tequila. In a fancy as fuck glass.” “You heard her,” he tells the bartender. “Tequila in a fancy as fuck glass.”
Ash laughs aloud, and in response, Nathaniel’s smile grows wider.
Nathaniel stares at her. Blinks. She draws back, narrowing her eyes. “What?” she asks. “You’re looking at me like I’m—” “The most fascinating person I know?”
Her champagne flute thuds to the sand. She has better things to do with her hands.
