In Too Deep (A Texas Beach Town Romance, #1)

by Daryl Banner

Sunlight kisses my face like a lover. The sighing of distant waves off the gulf touches my ears like sweetly spoken words on the sand.

“I mean, aren’t we all like sand out here? Just big rough rocks at first, then eroded over time by the constant crashing of waves ‘til we’re nothing but a bunch of tiny nothings?

come right up to him. “Silly grudge? That’s what you call it? Y’know what I’d like? To see the look on your face when you actually feel real emotions for a guy. To see your heart race. To see your eyes light up when you’re near him. To see you feel anything beyond just some pressure in your dick for a hot fuck. Something deeper and meaningful.” I give him a look. “Then to watch all of that shatter when your ‘knows-better big brother’ steals it away from you ‘for your own good’.”

“Follow your heart,” he repeats. “Make a big fool of yourself. Listen, I’m gonna tell you a story, Kent. I once broke the rule, chased the heart of a sweet guy here on a quick weekend trip. And yeah, sure, in the end, I was left brokenhearted, if just by the circumstance that he had to go home and not something he did to me. But you know what? That was the most beautiful summer I have ever had in my life, and every time I think of it, I’m in love again. What better parting gift is there to leave than that? No one can take that away from me.

We don’t stop kissing for a single millisecond. Breath like ocean waves crash and recede in my ears. His breath. My breath.

I want you inside me. I want you to take me to your room, slam me onto your bed, and make me feel like I’m nothing but your toy. I need you to make me feel alive. I need you to fuck the me out of me.”

We could have walked into this party together, he and I. Instead, I just cut the line and let the best fish swim out to sea. And the sharks found him. What the hell is wrong with me?

“The depth of your soul,” Kent goes on. “So fucking deep, you could just … you could just drop down into it and be lost forever.”

“Yeah. You’re like the deep end of the pool. Meant for the serious swimmers only.

Then it’s electricity all over again as I roll on top of him and pin him to the cushions of the couch, kissing him even deeper. The beauty of the view and the stars in that wide, endless night sky above hold nothing to the man whose lips hold me prisoner—the man I don’t ever want to let go of again.

“What’s the point of loving someone,” I say, staring at them, “if it always ends up in hurt? It doesn’t matter that I had a good time with Jonah. It’s over now.”

“I’m not going to be worth it, no matter what he insisted when he was here. Just like I warned him, the second he gets home, I’ll be a memory.”

“Baby, there are far worse things to be than a memory. Memories are good. We keep them for good reasons.” “Memories can hurt, too.”

“Your boy will

stick around one way or another, whether he comes back, or just stays in your heart and your memories. That’s all that matters, the feelings you had, the good times. It’s all that matters in the end.”

“Don’t let your job do exactly what it’s designed to do: beat you down into whatever shape it wants, where the only thing in life that matters to you is satisfying our boss, making the corporate office a bunch

of money you’ll never see, and padding the bloated salaries of dickheads who don’t care about your quality of life. It’s just the flat-out truth. They don’t care. They’ll go on their paid vacations. They’ll live in their fancy high-rises. They’ll dine expensive every night at your expense. Don’t be satisfied with lower pay than you deserve. Don’t grow complacent with staring at clocks all day, waiting to be freed so you can live your measly few hours at home before you gotta go to bed and live the nightmare all over again the next day. Don’t you dare do what you swore you’d never do and become a zombie to their disgusting greed machine.”

“Adrian, you’ve gotta learn to be more responsible

with people’s hearts. I know you don’t get me. You never understood why I like more serious stuff, why I take more time with guys I meet, searching for something deep, something meaningful. Either it scares you or just looks wrong to you. Maybe when you sabotaged my last relationship, you thought you were …” Here I go, letting Jonah’s words come out of my mouth. “… protecting me.” I look at him. “But you didn’t protect me, Adrian. You hurt me. Badly. Of all hearts I thought you’d never crush, you crushed mine.”

“Y’know I love you, right?” I shoot him a quizzical look. “Hey, don’t you love me, too? I’m your twin. We’re family. We’re supposed to.”

“Of course I love you,

Adrian.” Then I kick the stand and take hold of my bike. “I just sometimes don’t like you.” He cracks a smile. “Now that I can work with.”

Is that what hope really is? Just a bit of denial, cocktailed with fleetingly blind happiness and a splash of intentional naïveté?