 
## A Story With No Title

## Beginning Again

by Erin Lancaster

© 2014 by Erin Lancaster

Published by Erin Lancaster at Smashwords

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this independent author.

This is a work of fiction. Any names, places, characters, and incidents are either the product of the writer's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, events, or locations is purely coincidental. The author recognizes the various trademark owners of the various products referenced in this work of fiction which have been used without permission. The use and publication of these trademarks are not associated with, authorized or sponsored by those trademark owners.

Foreword:

In this eBook, the character named Erin Lancaster is not me personally (we just share a name). The character Jesse Gillespie is merely the inspiration for the Jesse Gillespie in Guardian Angel _,_ so he's a bit different.

This story centers around a few main characters with secondary characters sometimes taking the focus for a moment or two, and the point of view changes occasionally. I point out these changes by putting their name in larger, bold print when it switches. Occasionally, as these point of view switches are made, I may back up in time for a moment or parallel the time before bringing the story back to the "present."

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

Chapter 2: Blocked

Chapter 3: Matchmaker

Chapter 4: Get Rid of the Hurt

Chapter 5: A Friend's Help

Chapter 6: Don't Apologize

Chapter 7: Hold On Tight

Bonus: Jesse and The Rules

Chapter 8: Introductions

Chapter 9: Between Friends

Chapter 10: Sleep On It

Chapter 11: A Puddle

Chapter 12: I Burn Water

Chapter 13: Answer In The Form of a Question

Chapter 14: Insecurities

Chapter 15: Surprise

Chapter 16: I Wonder

Chapter 17: Just Punishment

Chapter 18: Frilly Black Walls

Chapter 19: Steamy

Chapter 20: Sleeping Beauty

Chapter 21: Cat Scratch Fever

Chapter 22: Invasion of Privacy

Chapter 23: Danger

Chapter 24: At Your Service

Chapter 25: Misunderstood

About the Author

Other Titles by this Author

Connect With Erin

# Chapter 1: A New Beginning

### Erin Lancaster

I had to move. I couldn't stay there, not after what happened. I don't think I can ever look into those eyes again. I couldn't survive it.

I finally have my house set up the way I like it after the terrible hassle of getting all my belongings to this tropical island. The house itself is a tiny rectangular block with a very small, square front porch. Inside, it has a small main room with a tiny kitchen just to the right of the front door and a little living room just to the left. I don't have a dining area. I suppose I could jut a little table against the half-wall separating the dining room and living room, but I don't want to. I have a small couch but no television set. Then, I have a computer desk and my archaic machine sitting upon it.

So, here am I, hoping to get a fresh start. Nobody but my mother knows where I went, and I've asked her to not tell anyone, not even my brother. I don't wish to be found, especially by _him_ (my ex). Besides, it's not like he'll go looking for me. He has _her_ , and she can have that lying, stealing, cheating bastard if she wants him.

I made him sell the house we bought together, and I bought my new house with my half of the money. Yes, it's tiny, but I won't require much space. All I need is food, a bed, and my computer. I'm going to _finish_ that book I started so long ago. Then I don't know what I'll do.

Okay, so, I bought the house for its view. I admit it. The rear and side walls of the living area are nothing but huge windows showing a gorgeous view of the lagoon in the middle of this small island.

I decided to put my computer right here by the huge windows so I could look out at the natural beauty that surrounds me. If I thought I could set up my dinosaur of a computer outside, I would, but I'm surprised this sucker even survived the move. I know setting it up in the sun like this isn't good for it, or, at least that's what I've been told, but I couldn't bear to face away from this gorgeous view while I write.

I love how this house only has the big windows in the _back_ and _side_ of the house. I like my privacy. A lot. It's too bad I don't have enough money my to buy my own private island and live there all by myself. I'm not a loner really; I simply don't do well around people. I don't use the "S" word. It's a label, and I don't like labels. I'm not "shy." It just takes me a while to warm up to someone.

I pull up my old novel, and I read over what I'd written ages ago.

Ugh! This is terrible! How did I think this was actually good? Maybe parts of it are salvageable.

_Nothing is salvageable. Not a damn thing!_ I think and slam my head down on the keyboard. _Whoops,_ I think now as I notice I've knocked off a few of the keys. Also, when I pick my head up, I notice I smudged the inner part of the lenses of my glasses. After polishing them with my shirt, I pick up the fallen keyboard keys before carefully clicking them back into place. I tentatively try them out. _Phew! They work._

_Well, now what am I going to do? The only thing I can think of to write about is a failed romance. Who wants to read about_ that _?_

My computer crashes. _Crap! No!_

_Thank God for auto-save. Not that I wanted any of that saved anyway._ I bang my fists down on the desk and bite my lip. My hands sting a little from the force of my hands hitting the desk as I think, _I guess I could go outside._

I decide to put on a pair of new, white shorts and a Caribbean blue shirt and go for a walk. On my way out the door, I grab a small plastic grocery bag just in case I find a seashell or two I like.

Putting one foot in front of the other, my flip-flops sling sand behind me as I walk along the streets. My long, blonde braid rests down the middle of my back, letting a bit of a breeze under it to cool the back of my neck. Traffic isn't bad. It's the middle of the day, and most of the time I'm alone with my thoughts. I did well in choosing to come here. Sunshine, that's what I need, lots and lots of sunshine.

Before I know it, I'm halfway around the island! I happen across a small park with a few picnic tables. Farther back from the picnic tables are some benches that face the ocean, and I walk to one of them and sit down with the sun on my back as I look through the light foliage at the ocean.

The park is empty for a long time, and I enjoy the quiet while it lasts.

That quiet gets broken by the sound of a little girl's giggling as she tells her father to hurry up. I can see them out of the corner of my eye as he grumbles something back to her, but I can tell it's good natured.

"This one, Daddy! This one!" she yells to him as she runs over to a picnic table, and her black hair glints a little when the sunshine hits it as she turns her head.

"Alright, Adele, this one. You remembered the Cokes, right?" he asks her. I'm really trying not to listen in, but other than the wind in the trees and the far-off sound of the ocean, they're the only noise.

_Is he looking at me? Why is he looking at me?!_ I worry as I do my best to stop myself from glancing in his direction. Still, I can tell (even though I try not to look) he's really well-built and tattooed with brown, slightly wavy hair that covers up parts of his ears.

I can definitely feel him staring.

_I don't like this. I wish he would just sit there and talk to his daughter and not look at me._ I start to wonder if I should get started on walking back home.

I like that I already think of it as home. Who needs Sean after all? Who is he to all that surrounds me?

That daddy needs to quit looking at me. I should go.

_Oh dear God, he's walking over here!_ My hands start shaking and my heart leaps up into my throat, making it hard for me to breathe. _No no no, please go away!_ I keep my eyes glued to my feet, which are suddenly fascinating. Why on earth didn't I just go as soon as they got here? _Go away go away go away._

He starts talking to me from where he stands right in front of me.

I want the earth to swallow me whole.

"Excuse me, but my daughter always packs way too much food for just the two of us. Would you care to join us?" he asks me. I can't see his eyes through those reflective sunglasses of his, and that, among other things, makes me nervous. What is he hiding?

I forget where it was I put my voice for what feels like eternity, but is actually probably only about ten seconds.

"No thank you," I say and hate how I can't get my voice louder than it is. I clear my throat and say as I stand up, "I was just headed back home anyway." Now I feel like I'm being rude, but I don't want to eat their food. Not that I think they've poisoned it or something. I can't help but find it strange that he'd walk up to a complete stranger and offer to have her join their picnic.

He's blocking my path to the road.

"You won't be intruding or anything. I just hate to see it go to waste." Then he smiles, and I feel like I need to sit down, before he says, "She thinks I have this massive appetite, and even at ten she likes to cook."

I mumble something, a lie, about having something thawing on the counter that I need to get back to.

As I pass him to make my escape, he asks, "What's your name?"

"Erin," I answer quickly. I don't ask him for his. I don't turn around to check and see if he's still looking at me. I make good time back to my house.

When I get home, I pull up my internet diary:

Dear Diary,

Today I acted really rude to this guy at a park. He had his daughter there. Where was the girl's mother? I don't know if he's divorced or a widower or whatever. What if he's still married? Jerks are everywhere I guess.

I don't even know his name. He asked me mine, and I told him. I panicked.

He has a nice smile.

I stop typing before I start up at a random ramble. Then I get an idea.

I have no idea where this is going, but I start writing about a man who's wife died tragically and left him with a daughter to raise. _At least I'm writing._

I feel bothered that I don't have a set plan, outline, or anything set up before starting this. It might turn out to be crap, but I _am_ writing again. I have no idea what I'll call it either. I guess it has no title for now.

# Chapter 2: Blocked

I'm awakened by the sounds of the seagulls as they fight over something or other. _Ugh, I stayed up too late last night._ I remember how I used to be when I'd get an idea in my head about something to write. I couldn't rest until I felt I'd done enough to appease the muse or whatever.

I try to go back to sleep.

It's no good. I can't sleep anymore. I stretch and yawn as I make my way into the kitchen to get to the bathroom door. I need a shower. Then, after I scarf down some cereal, I sit down at my computer again to see if I can pick up where I left off with my book. Somehow, I just can't get back into the spirit of the story. __

_Figures._ _Besides, this just makes me think of that guy. I wonder who he is? It's a small island. I suppose I'm bound to run into him sometime or other._

Again, I try to get into the story in front of me. I'd reached a good stopping point last night before I went to bed. I guess the stopping point was a little _too_ good.

Thrill. Writer's block. Can it even be called writer's block if I've only spent one night writing it? This doesn't bode well for the rest of it. Maybe I should trash this as well.

No! Dammit, I had a decent idea. Maybe I just need to get out again, clear my head, and come back to it fresh.

So, I leave the house once again. This time I head in the opposite direction towards the library. If I can't write a book right now, maybe _reading_ something would help.

The island's library is much nicer than I expected it to be. I'm not sure exactly what I expected... but nothing like this. It's a two story building with indoor and outdoor seating areas. At the outdoor ones, they have rolling bookcases set up for nice, sunny days like today. I find a happy little outdoor area on the second floor and pick up a volume off the shelf that looks interesting. I like to read a little of a book before I check it out usually.

The area I'm in is deserted, and I love that. There were people downstairs on the library's computers, so I steered clear of that area. I settle myself down on one of the little couches they have available and crack the book open.

Although I'm absorbed in the book pretty quickly, I still hear the door behind me open. _Great. So much for solitude. Maybe whoever it is is just passing through._

Out of the corner of my eye I see a man in a red shirt with brown hair somewhat covering his ears.

Oh no. Is that...? It is. I think so anyway.

Okay, maybe this island is too small.

I surreptitiously peep up at him as he too pulls a book off the shelf, and I debate whether or not I should get up and leave or just go somewhere else in the library. It's a big library after all. _But this is a nice outdoor reading area, and I saw it first!_ _Maybe he'll just take his book and go somewhere else to read it or go check it out right away._

Of course, he doesn't.

I tightly grip my book in both of my hands to keep them from shaking. I've stopped reading it, debating what I should do. If I get up to leave right now, it might look obvious that I'm avoiding him. Well, I am. He makes me uncomfortable.

I'm grateful for the hair in my face as I quickly glance up at him before I return my eyes to the meaningless words on the page of my book. I remember to turn a page as I work on slowing my frantic heart down. _I have to get out of here. I can't focus on a thing._

Aw man! He just looked up for a whole second right at me. Next thing you know, he's going to want to speak to me. Is it still too soon to jump up and run away?

I notice that at least today he doesn't have those sunglasses on. I start to wonder what his name is. I mean, I started writing a book practically about _him_ last night. Maybe he could break this block I have. _He just looked at me again. Did he see that I saw him looking at me?_ I bite my lip as I ponder what to do. My leg starts shaking of its own accord, irritating me.

I decide enough is enough. I'm no longer interested in this book I'm not reading, so I close it up and notice he has a ring on his finger. It's not on his wedding ring finger, just a gold ring on his middle finger. I'm careful to look to see if there are any tan lines or creases to indicate that there's usually a ring where a wedding band would go. There's nothing.

I can feel him looking at me as I stand up to put my book back on the shelf, and I hear his book close as well. _Oh no. Maybe I should've stayed sitting down and pretending to read._

Just walk away, Erin. Walk away nice and slow.

I'm not normally this skittish around other people, even people I don't know. Well, okay. I'm not exactly friendly either, but I'll sometimes offer a quiet "hi" to passers by. Not this man. I don't know what it is about him, but he makes me incredibly uncomfortable. Yesterday, I blamed it on his sunglasses, but he's not wearing them today. Maybe I'm just remembering the sunglasses.

_I've been standing here staring at the bookcase for too long. If I don't leave soon, he might get up and try to talk to me._ My eyes widen with that possibility. I purposefully turn on my heels and head for the staircase to go downstairs. I get to the bottom and breathe a sigh of relief. Now he can't talk to me without making it obvious that that's what he set out to do. I take a deep breath as I head for the exit, hoping to also escape the notice of the overly-friendly redheaded girl that works behind the front desk.

I haven't made it to the entryway yet, and just as I get ready to go through the doorway in front of me leading to it, I hear behind me, "Hey, Erin! Wait up!"

_Why did I tell him my name?_ I think as I also realize he remembered, and a small feeling of happiness courses through me with that knowledge.

"Yes? What is it?" I ask, and I hate how I sound slightly breathless like I've been running.

I slowly turn around and see his eyes are brown. He's walked right up to me, and he stands in front of me quietly, looking like he's debating what it is he wants to say. _I'm_ certainly not going to say anything.

He starts talking finally. "I was just wondering. You're not a tourist, are you? The whole talking about something defrosting on the counter kind of tells me you're not. Are you a new resident here? I mean, you can't have lived here long."

_He remembered everything I said yesterday._ "No, I'm not a tourist. I bought a house here." _And I'm not telling you where. How do I know you're not some crazy psychopathic killer? Ew. Very dark path for my book to travel down._

He smiles again, and I quickly gauge the distance between me and a chair behind me in case I have need of it. I hear the soft pounding of the librarian stamping a book that someone must be checking out.

"That's great!" he says, still smiling. "Hey, me and some friends of mine are throwing a party at The Flamingo tomorrow. Wanna come? In case you might want to meet a few of the other locals."

Is he asking me out or just merely inviting me to a party? If I go to the party am I his date? Why do I get the feeling that that's what it is? Or will turn out to be?

Maybe I'm reading too much into it. Maybe he's not interested, and he's just being nice.

Wait, what am I thinking?! A party?!

"I don't know if I'm quite settled enough for a party just yet. I've only been here a few days," I say quietly, wondering why I said a few days when I've been to and from here for weeks now as I got my things to my new house. He looks momentarily bummed.

"Who says you have to be settled to go to a party? Why not just let the unpacking rest for a little bit?"

I've been completely unpacked for two days now. That's not the problem here.

"It's the perfect thing for someone like you to do," he finishes.

_No it isn't._ "I just don't think I'd feel comfortable being around a bunch of people I don't know," I say. _That's normal, right? Sure, lots of people are like that._

A look of mild surprise comes over him before he says, "Oh, that's right. You don't even know _me_ yet. My name's Bryce. There! Now you know somebody!" I'm grateful he doesn't hold out his hand for a handshake. I take several deep breaths before he continues, "There _will_ be a lot of people there, but in a way that's good because that way you won't ... um, stand out as much." He looks like he doesn't believe what he just said.

"I'm just... not..." My heart starts hammering inside of me, blocking the passage of air to my lungs. _I think he_ is _asking me out. I don't need this right now. I don't think I'm wrong here._ "...settled in yet. I still even have a bit of jet lag." _Lie._

He doesn't look too discouraged. "Well, think about it okay? You have some more time to get settled before the party tomorrow. It starts at six." Then he looks down, and when he looks back up at me with those brown eyes of his, I want to reach my arm back behind me and hold onto the wall for support. He says, "I'd really like it if you came."

"I'll think about it," I say real fast and start backing towards the doorway. "I... gotta go," I say before I open it and rush out of the library.

I bite my lip as I descend the stairs from the porch of the library. _So, his name is Bryce._

I have to run by the courthouse to sign some silly paperwork, some things I needed to complete anyway. I don't really like the residency transfer papers I have to sign; I don't like the paper trail that Sean could possibly look up. There aren't any other options, however.

Outside the courthouse, I walk over to some nicely-placed benches. I can't help but think how beautiful it is here. However, beautiful or not, it still doesn't drive the memory of Sean and Meredith out of my mind. My best friend. My fiancé. That's the kind of stuff you only read about or see on some soap opera. Huh. That's my life.

I could move light years away from them, but still that memory would remain. I'm sick to death of moping around because of it. I wish I could just really move on. Forget them.

_Maybe I_ should _go to that party. Just for a minute. Out of curiosity. They're my new neighbors after all. If nothing else, I could find a quiet spot to sit and watch everyone._

But what do I do about this Bryce guy? If I show up does that mean it's a date? No. Surely not. It's just me going to a party. Hah! Erin goes to a party. Take that, Sean! Mousy little coward my ass!

That's it. I'm going!

_But... still there's ... him. He's... alright so he's adorable, but I don't_ need _this right now! The last thing I need is to get into another relationship._

I slam my back hard against the back of the bench, staring out at the water. After a while, I decide to go back home and write about the dad in my story trying to start dating again and having a rough time with it.

# Chapter 3: Matchmaker

### Bryce Burch

My daughter and I enter my sister's house, and Adele immediately runs over to play with her cousin.

"Baby Jer-Jer!" she giggles and hugs him before they sit on the floor to play. I'm glad they have so much fun together since I leave Adele with Pamela almost every night.

She speaks up again, this time to my sister, "Hey, Aunt Pamela, Daddy met a girl yesterday." She laughs when I turn around and give her an 'are you crazy? why tell her that!?' look. I shake my head and plop myself down on a bar stool, preparing myself for twenty questions.

I never flirt with women in front of my daughter. Well, I wasn't exactly "flirting" yesterday either, but Adele could tell something was up.

I glance up at Pam. I can hear the wheels turning in her head. She's wondering which question to ask first. I speak up before she can ask, "It was just somebody when we went on the picnic yesterday." I shrug, trying to act nonchalant about the whole thing.

"Mhm," she responds like she doesn't believe that's all. "In front of Adele?"

Adele's hearing must be good because she speaks up suddenly. "I told him to. He was just sitting there staring at her the whole time we were eating."

I put my elbows on the counter and my head in my hands. Adele and Jeremy start playing peek-a-boo, the current favorite game for the toddler. _Great,_ I think sarcastically. _This is all I need. My sister butting her nose into my love life. Again. And Adele is just like her. You'd think_ I _was the child here the way they both try to take care of me._

"So....?" Pamela asks.

"So what?" I respond like I have no idea what she means when I really do. I look right into her eyes like I dare her to try to get anything out of me that I have no intention of spilling.

She sighs exasperatedly and walks around the counter.

She sits herself down next to me and asks, "So, what's she like?"

I look over at her warily and answer, "She's new to the island, likes to read, and she's... quiet." I sit here and hope that that placates her curiosity. Of course, it doesn't.

"Oh, a quiet bookworm that just moved here. Doesn't sound like your type," she says in a teasing voice. I know what she's doing. She's trying a reverse psychology thing on me to get me to say more, hoping that I'll argue that she _is_ my type. She continues quietly so that Adele can't hear, her eyes narrowing in a mischievous sort of way, "I thought you only went after tourists because then you didn't have to be serious, remember?"

_She wants me to contradict her. She's right. At least, with tourists, I_ know _they're going to leave me._

"You're right. She's not my type at all," I lie.

She looks like she doesn't believe me. Jeremy squeals in the background as she asks, "So what does she look like?" _Damn._

"She has long blonde hair, glasses and blue eyes." _Yeah, beautiful eyes as blue as that water out there. It's a shame they're hidden behind those glasses._

Pamela asks me to be more descriptive. I tell her I don't know, that I wasn't paying that close attention.

"It was just a random person that was at the park the same time we were," I say in an almost agitated way.

She continues for me, "That you sat and stared at the whole time." She pauses. "Then called up Ginger today to keep a look out and call you if this girl should _happen_ to come by the library any time." She smiles triumphantly.

My mouth drops open. _What is it with these females? This is what I get for trusting Ginger to keep her mouth shut. I should've known she'd call Pamela._

"I... um... I wanted to be sure to invite her to the party tomorrow night." _Crap. Pam is going to take that and run with it._ I flounder around, trying to come up with something to say to save myself from my sister's inquisitiveness. I can work any woman in the world but my sister.

"Mhm. You invited her?"

"Yeah. I remembered she'd said she just moved here, so I thought it would be a nice thing to do," I quickly defend myself. Pamela looks just like Mom right now; it's scary. She has that look that Mom would give me when she wanted me to tell her what _really_ happened with whatever happened.

"Seems to me a pretty drastic thing to do to call up Ginger and ask her to be a lookout just to invite her to a party."

"Well, it's being held at my bar, so why not? And I thought that she seemed the bookish type." _Of course, I also called up Desmond at the courthouse, Lynne at the spa, and Jesse at his store._

"Who else did you call?"

Everybody. Damn. What was I thinking?

I avoid the question and say, "I just wanted to make sure she got the invite. You know, I wanted to make sure she felt welcome." I'm desperate to save this whole situation. I don't know if anything is going to happen anyway, and I don't want to raise any expectations with anyone.

"Then why not tell them to invite her if they saw her? Why did they have to call you and tell you they'd seen her?" Pamela asks me, one eyebrow raised. _She already knew I'd called everyone._

_Shit._ "Because..." She looks at me expectantly. I wilt and surrender the information dejectedly, "Because I wanted to be the one to invite her. Because I wanted to ask her out before anyone else did. I don't think the invite came across that way anyway, but I can still hope she comes."

She giggles and claps her hands excitedly. "I knew it!"

"Pamela..." I whine. "Please don't get involved. Besides, it could all come to nothing," I say and watch her get up and dance around the kitchen.

Ever since Ashley left me, Pamela has been trying to set me up with one girl after another, thinking that would make the hurt go away. Well, it didn't work! Ashley left us and had someone else deliver the divorce papers for me to sign. Ever since then, I've not taken any relationship seriously. Tourists are perfect for that. One week romance, my heart stays safe. Well, this Erin is... I don't know. I'm treading dangerous waters here.

"What has you dancing around the kitchen, baby?" my brother-in-law, Simon, says to her as he walks in the back door, kisses my sister on the cheek, and then trudges over to the edge of the counter to watch the kids play. He looks exhausted.

I look over at him and say in a concerned voice, "Why not have a seat, bro? You look dead on your feet."

"If I sit down I'm going to fall asleep," he says and runs his hand over his face. Pamela starts cooking something or other. "I hate candles," he says while glaring at the coffee table where a candle sits unlit. Since he's a firefighter, I have a good idea why he'd say something like that.

"Again?!" Pamela asks him.

"Yes, but this time we got there in time. The only things damaged were a curtain, the lamp the candle sat next to, and a little bit of the wall," he says wearily, and I'm just happy the focus has shifted off me. He looks up at me and asks, "That party's tomorrow right?"

At the same time I give him a yes, Pamela chirps up, "And Bryce has asked out someone for it."

Simon shrugs and says, "Well, I figured he'd grab somebody." _Thank you! Finally! Someone that gets it!_

Pamela continues, "A new neighbor."

Simon's eyebrows raise as he looks up at me again. Jeremy screams at Adele because she's kept her face hidden too long. I get up to leave.

"Yeah, I'd heard someone bought Carter's old place," Simon says. "I wonder if that's the one."

News to me.

"I bet it is," Pamela answers him. I turn back around and wonder if Simon is going to volunteer more information.... information I'm suddenly desperate to know. Pam doesn't miss my hopefully pondering expression. Simon watches me too. Then he and Pam smile at each other knowingly.

I groan at both of them and say, "I've got to get to work. I'll leave you matchmakers to your empty dreams." I kiss my daughter on the cheek and walk out the door.

# Chapter 4: Get Rid of the Hurt

I arrive at work on Friday afternoon and start getting things set up for the party tonight. My bar, The Flamingo, stands as a very simple, open-air structure with a slightly-raised floor like a low porch, and it has a thatched roof above that. I have a couple of small bathrooms and an extremely-small office/stockroom (mostly a stockroom) on one side of it. Past those small rooms are stairs back down to the ground to a lower seating area that has some small tables with thatched umbrellas above them. Most of the time, people congregate up on the porch section of the bar. I really need to do something about that almost-unused lower seating area because it's a wasted space, but I previously haven't had the funds for it. Now, I do have the funds, but I can't figure out exactly what I want to do. I suppose I need to tear the whole place down and rebuild, but I hate the thought of missing the busiest tourist season, Christmas, which will surely happen if I do it soon. So, I've decided to wait and do that later... sometime.

Pamela called me a minute ago and said that she and Simon couldn't make it tonight because Jer-Jer was sick. _Ugh. Adele now has even me calling him Jer-Jer. Poor kid. He's never going to outgrow that if Adele has her say. I suppose I could teach him to call her Adelaide in his defense._

Adele is spending the night at a friend's house. Tonight would be perfect if.... _Stop right there, Bryce. No getting your hopes up._

_I hope she comes. I'm going to be on edge the entire night until she does. If she doesn't... well, then I give up._ I don't believe myself for a second about the giving up bit, but I also don't want to get my hopes too high.

I have Bernadette working the bar tonight. She's a saucy brunette with an attitude problem, but she's a good bartender.

I turn my head a little when I see Ginger's red hair in my peripheral vision. She and Belinda walk up the stairs together. They're early.

"Is she coming?" Ginger asks hopefully.

"Who?" I ask belligerently. I'm still a little upset at her for calling my sister, her best friend.

Ginger cocks her hip and puts a fist on it, her elbow sticking out, as she regards me with a sassy expression and says, "You know exactly who I'm talking about. Don't play stupid, Bryce."

Belinda walks up behind her with her light gray eyes dancing and adds, "Yeah, I wanna know more about this mystery girl that has our Bryce calling everyone all over the island looking for her. All Lynne could tell me was she was blonde, had glasses and blue eyes. So, you found her?"

I look at Ginger accusingly as I answer Belinda, "Yes, Ginger called me... right before she called Pamela." _Can't you two go and talk about this without me involved?_

Ginger shrugs.

"Why shouldn't I call Pam? I thought she'd get a kick about what you asked me to do," she says innocently.

"You know," Belinda pipes in, "you calling everyone like that isn't like you. It's bound to make us all curious."

"So, you don't know if she's coming?" Ginger asks again, and I'm starting to get irritated.

"No, I don't," I say stiffly. Belinda grabs hold of Ginger's elbow because she can see my mood shifting. For someone so brilliant, Ginger can be so dense sometimes. I stop listening to them when Belinda tactfully changes the subject, and they walk off to play with the stereo. Bernadette pulls out the pizza I started soon after I got here and lays it on the counter.

More people start to arrive, and one of them asks Ginger to dance. Ginger may be a clueless genius, but she's also really nice. I'm glad I didn't bite her head off a minute ago.

I mumble a thanks to Belinda. She just smiles a little back at me before shoving pizza in her mouth with a goofy look on her face. She's trying to get me to lighten up. It's not working.

I glance and see out of the corner of my eye Lynne walking up.

Of everyone in my circle of friends, I've known Lynne the longest. I think we became friends in kindergarten, but I'm not sure. It could've been before then. We tried dating once in high school, but it was just too weird. It's like she's my sister or cousin or something. She manages the spa on top of the hill. She and Belinda are best friends, and Belinda works for her. I don't know how they can stay friends like they do since one of them works for the other one, but somehow they manage it.

She works at getting a strand of her black hair out of her face as she says, "I'm sorry, Bryce, I didn't see anybody that-"

"It's okay; Ginger found her," I quickly explain.

"Oh good," she breathes. She looks at me with concern in her brown eyes and says, "Of course, you know now you have us all wondering..." She leaves the statement hanging like a question.

I use the same excuse I used with my sister. "She's just someone I met that I thought might want to come tonight since she's new to the island and all."

One of her eyebrows raises questioningly as she says, "Sure. Right." She doesn't believe me one bit. Patting me on my arm, she passes me and walks over to talk to Belinda.

_What is it with everybody?! Does every woman in my life think that I need rescuing from some depression or something? The way they act you'd think I go around moping all the time. Good grief! I just_ met _somebody I might be a little interested in, okay?!_

_Oh good, here's Jesse. Thank God._ I look over at him as he walks up the stairs, pointing to another of our friends, Desmond, with a huge grin on his face. I hadn't seen Desmond sneak in. He's dressed like a buccaneer. He must've lost the bet.

"He lost the bet! I can't believe he lost the bet!" Jesse says in an overexcited but quiet voice as he walks over to me, laughing. I catch Desmond rolling his eyes after Troy sits down in the chair next to him. I can't help but laugh. Desmond's a jerk. I have no idea why we keep him around. However, the sight of him in that outfit might just provide all the entertainment this party needs for the whole evening.

Jesse is my best friend. He moved to the island about six years ago. He says his family used to visit here every summer, and he wanted to move here, so he did. He runs a gift shop that also rents out scuba and surfing gear. He's great to have around because he has an eye that can spot a nice piece of tail from a mile away. Between the two of us with me at my bar and him at his shop, we can scope out each week's crop of tourists and pick out the best. There have been a few times we've gone after the same one, but it only adds to the fun with a little competition. I hated calling him to watch out for Erin, but his shop is in a great location. I called dibs, and he better abide by the rules. I've only called dibs a handful of times. Most of the time I don't care that much. The fact that I did this time caught his attention.

He stops laughing at Desmond and turns to me to ask, "So, where is she? I have to see what has you all worked up."

"I told you man, lay off," I say to him seriously. I should've known. Jesse never takes anything seriously. He just grins back at me like he knows he's got me. Crap. Well, if I act like I don't care... No, I can't do that. But if I act like I do care... then he's going to tease me unmercifully. I know because I'd do the same thing to him.

"Oh, this is awesome!" He laughs. "Finally, I get to see Bryce the Stone-hearted go goo-goo eyed over a girl! I wish my camera phone wasn't broken!" He keeps dropping his phone in the sand. It's a miracle the thing works at all.

_I hate that nickname,_ I think to myself. However, I'd rather have the nickname than get depressed every other week when whatever girl goes home like he does. Lucky for him he has the personality to bounce back easily.

Jesse keeps laughing a little more, I guess at my expression, as I think, _I do_ not _have the personality to bounce back easily. Maybe that's what has the girls always so worried about me. What am I doing?!_

Bernadette slams down a tray of drinks on the bar behind me. I turn and look at her with a scowl. She apologizes in a voice that tells me she doesn't mean it. I decide to drop it. I have other things on my mind tonight.

"Seriously. Is she coming or not?" he asks me.

"You know, I doubt it. She didn't really act interested anyway. I was just being nice, you know? I guess this is what I get for being nice." _Alright, now I just want to go home._

"Don't sweat it," he says, and he acts like he's about to throw a bunch of clichés at me when we hear the sound of a little scooter pull up. Both of us turn to look to see who it is.

She's here!

I walk over to the stairs, leaving Jesse standing behind me. "You're here!" I say to her in a voice that I hope doesn't sound overly thrilled.

### Erin

I park my scooter and walk up some river rock front sidewalk. I decided not to overdo my appearance tonight because I have no idea how everyone is going to be dressed for this thing. _I can't believe I talked myself into this, but here goes._

"You're here!" I hear coming from in front of me. It's Bryce. On the one hand, I'm happy that the first face I see is a familiar one, but on the other, I wish I could just sneak in somewhere and try to blend into the scenery.

I feel irritated at my hands as they start to shake a little when he bounds down the few stairs and over to me. _There are a lot of people here. I suppose there could be more, but I don't know if I can do this._

"Hi," I say simply because I don't know what else to say. I feel a little guilty that it's now eight o'clock and he'd told me the party started at six. _He looks like he thought I wasn't going to come. At least he looks happy to see me. The way I ran away the other day I worried I'd hurt his feelings or something._ Again, I wonder if he meant for this to be a sort of date or not. Again, I wonder if I wanted for him to.

"Hi," he says back to me, and I have a hard time trying to determine if he just sighed with relief. The way he's looking at me right now makes me nervous. He's good at that - making me nervous. We get quiet, and I bite my lip.

"Desmond, why do you have to be such an ass!" I hear a girl in a very green dress with very red hair yell to a pirate. Or... at least, someone dressed like a pirate.

Suddenly, Bryce smiles and says, "C'mon, let me introduce you to my friends."

I wordlessly open and close my mouth before he takes my hands and gently pulls me as he backs up towards the open-aired shelter. _His hands are warm._

He's immediately almost attacked by that same girl that had been yelling only a moment before. Now she's all smiles as she approaches us. She wears about six different necklaces. I can't help but think that it looks like she couldn't make up her mind which one to wear, so she wore them all. I feel like everybody is staring at me. When I look, they don't look like they're staring, but I know they are when I'm not looking. They're just good at hiding it.

Someone is wearing a police officer's uniform. _Well, there's the fuzz. Him plus the pirate. Geez, all we need now is a construction worker and a shirtless fireman then we might have the whole set. Yeah, okay, so the pirate wasn't part of it, but I'm flexible._

"Is this her?!" the redhead chirps. I look sideways at Bryce and if looks could kill... Well, she doesn't appear fazed by it at all. _I knew it. They were talking about me._ She practically skips over to me and starts shaking my hand as she says, "Hi! I'm Ginger. My mother had a strange sense of humor when she named me. I think she'd been addicted to _Gilligan's Island_ or something. That, or she was cruel about the red hair thing. My dad had red hair. She didn't much like him it turns out anyway." I feel overwhelmed as the woman keeps talking.

Meanwhile, the bartender girl comes over and says something to Bryce about not being able to find the tomato juice. _He owns the place?_ Bryce grumbles under his breath about her saying they're out of this and that when they're not and first tomato juice what's next rum? I can't help but think he looks funny when he's mad. The redhead, Ginger, tells me she'll stop talking my ear off now and go back to yelling at Desmond again - or something like that.

"Hhiiiiii," I hear coming from behind me.

I turn around and look up a little to see a man with a ton of hair on his head. I absently wonder how on earth he keeps it all from falling into his face with the constant breeze here.

"Hello," I say.

"Please, don't tell me you're Erin," he says cryptically.

_I knew it! Everybody_ was _talking about me!_

"Um, yes?" I answer.

"You act like you're not sure. Are you or aren't you?" he asks and looks like he's working hard to keep from laughing.

"Yes, I'm Erin. The question in that is I was wondering why you didn't want me to tell you."

He lets out a huge, exaggerated sigh. I have no idea what his name is. With that hair, he looks like a lion. Maybe I'll call him Mufasa.

"Well, damn," he growls. "I'm Jesse, by the way. Jesse Gillespie." He shakes my hand.

"Erin Lancaster, but you already knew that somehow," I say back to him and realize I don't know Bryce's last name. Mufasa still hasn't let go of my hand.

Bryce has apparently found the tomato juice after all because he walks back over to us. Mufasa drops my hand real fast and gives Bryce a strange look. Bryce looks back at him, and I can't help but notice he looks a little pissed. _Ohhhhhkay._

"I guess you've met my _best_ friend, Jesse," Bryce says bitingly while continuing to level an almost-glare at Mufasa.

Okay, well this is weird. If I didn't know better, I'd say the two of them are having some kind of silent argument.

"Well, it looked like you were busy, so I thought I'd introduce myself," Jesse says to Bryce, looking for all the world like he's working real hard not to glare back. I just stand here quietly and dart my eyes back and forth between the two of them.

_They're not acting like best friends. This doesn't look like something of which I want to get in the middle._ I back away and go have a seat at a nearby table. Whatever it is they want to argue about, I can hear the mumbling for it start up as soon as I'm almost far enough away. I'll leave them to it.

Finally, I get to sit quietly somewhere and take it all in. Bryce looks like he has a lot of friends. I guess that shouldn't surprise me that much. I wonder what they're all like. _What if they don't like me? I think Bryce likes me. What if one of those girls likes Bryce and is going to hate me now? I don't need any of this!_

_Still... a fight like that would add awesome drama to my book. Hm, so the dad tries to start dating again and doesn't even know that somebody already likes him when he finally asks out a different girl,_ I think as I sit and watch a guy with short curly hair and wearing a blue shirt with an octopus on it as he tries in vain to get a girl in some band's shirt's attention. Her hair is jet black like Bryce's daughter's. The woman is too busy talking to her friend in front of her to notice the guy's attempts. _Oh great. She doesn't notice him looking at her, but she notices me,_ I think as she smiles a nice, small smile at me and walks over.

She sits down in front of me and says, "Hi, my name is Lynne."

Our budding conversation gets interrupted by pirate-man. "So, you must be that blonde chick Bryce asked me to watch out for."

Lynne closes her eyes real quiet and slow like she's trying to reign in her anger. Lynne's friend comes and sits next to me on the pirate's other side where he stands. Apparently, Lynne sitting in front of me seemed to open some flood gate of attention because next Ginger takes the remaining seat. So much for sitting quietly in the corner and doing some people watching.

That guy in the octopus shirt still stands there staring off into space, obviously wondering what he's going to do now that Lynne and her friend are over here.

I decide I don't like pirate-man. "I suppose I am, if that's what he asked you to do." _He did? I wonder why._ "I don't see any other blonde chicks here, do you? That is, unless they're all locked up on your pirate ship." I mentally pat myself on the back for my bravery.

He folds his arms defensively in front of him and looks angry as the wind blows his longish, brown hair around on his head. Lynne and her friend look at each other like they're desperately trying to keep from cracking up laughing.

"I don't always dress like this," he mumbles angrily.

"Be nice, Desmond," Ginger says. She looks like she's about to start up on her hyperspeed babble again, but pirate-man-who's-name-must-be-Desmond interrupts her.

"I lost a bet," he grunts as Lynne simultaneously gets up and octopus-shirt-boy walks over.

"Don't listen to him. He's just full of hot air and worth less attention than a fart in a hurricane," Ginger says cheekily. I can't help but laugh.

Desmond doesn't appear shaken at all by Ginger's jibe because he keeps talking to me. "So, what's so special about you that he would call around asking if we'd seen you?"

Lynne's friend stomps hard on his foot and says, "Shut up, Desmond!"

That curly-haired guy asks Lynne to dance.

"Whatever. I need to go take a piss anyway," Desmond says in a huff and walks off, and I look down at the table.

Out of nowhere, Bryce stands next to me and asks me if we can go somewhere and talk. I feel like the floor just dropped out from under me. _And he expects me to stand up?!_ Still, I find myself nodding and quietly following him to some lower level, darker, seating area.

He doesn't walk over to the tables, but instead he walks us over to the side to a wooden fence. I pass him and lean back against it for support. I can't read his expression exactly. He looks like he's trying to figure out how to say something, and he's agitated he can't figure out how. My heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest. The party sounds like it's far away - everyone's voices sound muted. In fact, the insects and frogs around us create quite a racket, actually sounding louder than the party.

Finally, Bryce breaks the relative silence between us. "Erin, when I invited you to the party, I'd kind of hoped to be inviting you as my date. I don't think it came across that way, but I'm wondering if you possibly caught on that that's what I meant when I asked you to come." He drops his hand from his head and props both on the lower part of his hips as he slouches a bit.

My eyes drop to the ground at my feet. _Yep, the ground is actually still there underneath them. Why does it feel like it left me?_ I no longer hear the insects and frogs and stuff for the pounding in my ears. I see his flip-flops take a step closer to me. Something like adrenaline courses through my veins as I glance back up at him and see the intense expression on his face. _Oh crap, what now?! What do I say now?! He just admitted that he_ was _asking me out. I haven't made all this up in my head; he likes me._

"I was right. You didn't think that's what it was," he says, sounding disappointed.

I don't like him sounding disappointed, and I wonder how I can say what needs saying to make him feel better. However, as much as I like him, I don't know if I'm ready to have anything minutely close to a relationship with anybody.

What would someone in my novel do? Probably the wrong thing.

_He just keeps staring at me! How am I supposed to think with him staring at me!_ I wish I could run off somewhere to go think... now that I know... to think about what I want to do now. I stand up off the fence because suddenly I feel jittery. One hand nervously rubs my other arm as I continue to flounder around, not saying anything. _He's still staring at me._

"Say something! Please!" he suddenly pleads, making me jump a little.

"I'm sorry," I say quietly and try to figure out how to say what I need to say.

"I knew it," he says quickly before I can figure out what I was going to say. "I thought I'd try anyway, you know?" He turns to walk back to the party.

"I'm not finished!" I snap at him. He turns back around with this look of pleasant surprise on his face. I hate that I got mad, but he's not giving me a chance to explain myself.

"Okay..." he says and closes the distance between us again, now _really_ watching my every move.

I let out a huff and say, "I can't think with you looking at me like that!"

"Looking at you like what?" he asks with a smile slowly spreading across his face. I give him an exasperated expression to which he replies, "Why not start by telling me what you're trying to think of."

_He ended that sentence in a preposition,_ I can't help but think suddenly.

I feel my eyebrows come together for a second as I try to think under his gaze. "Um." I swallow and look up at his face before returning my eyes to the relative safety of his shoulder. "Um, I wondered when you invited me if that's what you were doing, but I wasn't sure. I mean, you could've just been being nice." I pause for just a second before I ask, "You asked everybody to watch for me?"

He rolls his eyes. "Alright. Yes, I did. In a way, I wish I hadn't because they won't get off my back about it."

"Why?" I ask, and I hope I already know the answer.

"Isn't it obvious? I had to find you again, the sooner the better."

"To ask me out." I state the question.

"Yes, Erin. You're killing me here. Is this a date or not?" he asks in an almost agitated way.

"I... Bryce, this is really hard for me." _I can't believe I'm just coming out and saying all this, but I feel like I owe it to him since he's laying it all bare for me._ My words come out in a rush. "I'm... still getting over the fact that my ex-fiancé slept with my ex-best friend. Please don't tell everyone that. I only just told you now because I have to tell you why I'm acting like this." I look up and see he's wearing this shocked, slack-jawed expression. "What?" I ask, wondering what he's thinking.

His mouth closes with a snap. "Sorry." He pauses a second before he says, "How could they do that?" A tiny smile plays about his features as he continues, "I'd worried it was just me or something."

_Maybe I shouldn't have told him,_ I think, regretting my decision. I feel stupid now. I look off back towards the party, wishing I could just go somewhere and curl into a ball to think. _Stupid, stupid, stupid. Really stupid to tell this stranger something so personal._

"Erin," he says as he reaches for my face. His hand feels slightly coarse against my cheek as he gently turns my head back to face him. I absolutely _cannot_ look him in the eyes right now. Even as it is, I'm only just barely able to control my breathing. He continues, "That man is an idiot, whoever he is." His thumb traces my cheekbone, and I close my eyes.

Please don't be using what I just told you to your advantage.

Sean always used everything to his advantage. He'd twist things around so that I didn't know which way was up anymore. I was always the one in the wrong, always the one apologizing. Well, not that last time. He apologized his butt off. Didn't he know that that was the lowest possible thing he, both of them, could do? How could he think that I could just up and forgive him like that? Between the two of them, they have destroyed my trust in people in general.

_Bryce is staring at me,_ I think and realize his hand still rests on my face.

I'm not sure I can take this. I fight hard against the painful feelings that try to come to the surface again. A single, damn tear escapes my eyes and runs down my cheek. _Okay, now I really want to hide,_ I think as I feel his arm wrap around my waist. He feels pleasantly warm against me even though the air around us is also warm. If I weren't so freaked out right now, this would be kind of nice.

He whispers, "You are _so_ beautiful, do you know that?" _Holy crap._ I shake my head no. _No, I'm a mousy little coward,_ I think, remembering Sean calling me that. "Well, you are," he finishes. His arm tightens around me, and his fingertips brush against my ear. "I have this crazy desire to just hold your face in my hands and do nothing but look at you all day."

_Oh, this isn't happening!_ I think as now he starts running his fingertips up and down my jaw and cheek, wiping away the traces of my tear. I have to slow this down.

"Bryce," I say as I reach over and try to pull his hand off my face with my opposite hand. This is good because my arm in the way forces a little distance between us. "I'm just not ready to start dating again." _Even if it's been three months._ "The hurt is still too fresh." _Yes, now please back away,_ I think as I continue to hold onto his arm.

_Even in the dark, his brown eyes are beautiful. There's so much there, so much I want to figure out, but not now._ I look down at the ground for a second or two before glancing up at him again. He hasn't let go of me, but I also haven't tried to force the issue.

He only looks sad for about a second more before he starts looking at me like _that_ again. I feel the tendons in his forearm move as his thumb starts playing with my face. "I understand, probably more than anyone else on this island," he says, and I start feeling like I'm having an out-of-body experience.

Wait. He understands? How?

I have this sudden urge to say 'you know what? fuck it. of course I want to start a relationship with you.' Well, I don't think I'd say the cuss word, but something like that. _He's gorgeous. Holy smokes, he's gorgeous! And he likes me. Me. And what do I do? I turn him down._

"Maybe I can help get rid of the hurt," he says soft and low, and I wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

I don't have to wonder long! He uses the hand that's on my face to tilt my head up a little before he gently presses his lips to mine. I move my hand off his arm and lightly place it on his shoulder as he pulls me closer to him. _Am I really doing this again? I'm pretty sure I told him I_ wasn't _ready for this kind of thing._

_Oh, but I don't want him to stop!_ I think as he repeatedly places tender kisses on my lips. Then he shocks me as he suddenly makes my mouth open, and he deepens the kiss. The kiss becomes a lot less gentle now as he acts like he's desperate for more of me. He acts like a man who's walked across a vast desert and has finally reached an oasis with a deep well of cool, fresh water.

I start kissing him back.

He pulls back for just a second to take in and let out a shaky breath before he reclaims my lips. I don't think it could be possible for him to hold me any tighter. My hand slowly clenches around the back of his shirt. I take my turn in pulling back a little to breathe, and he merely takes that opportunity to kiss and run his mouth along my cheeks and jaw.

"Bryce, I can't do this," I whisper.

"And yet, you are," he mumbles back against my lips before he silences me again.

I try to take a step backwards, but he follows me. _He has absolutely no intention of stopping this anytime soon, and I don't know if I can continue to feel these emotions again without also feeling the pain._

I don't want to set myself up for more pain. I just can't. To let someone mean so much to me again...

Then it happens. The pain of having really loved Sean and seeing him in bed with my best friend comes back in full force. I hear myself let out a small cry, and I try to take another step backwards, backing myself into the fence.

"Erin..." he says, but I interrupt him.

"No. No, it's too much!" I say and shove hard against him. He wasn't prepared for that, so I get away easily.

I dart around him, and I actually _do_ run away from him this time. I feel terrible for doing this to him, but the pain is too fresh. I hope I get the chance to explain myself later, but for now I just want to get away.

# Chapter 5: A Friend's Help

### Bryce

I'm an idiot. I'm a complete and total idiot.

_How could I have been so incredibly stupid?_ I think as I watch yet another woman running from me. This is what happens when I let them get too close.

I let out an angry huff and walk towards a table as I hear her little scooter start up and drive away.

_I did a major no-no,_ I think, using a term I hadn't used with Adele in a long time. _I let myself start to feel again, start to care. And what do I get in return? Rejection._

I meet a girl two days ago and go all 'goo-goo eyed' like Jesse would say and not even think about how this could come back and bite me in the ass. I didn't even take the time to think this through. I just walked into the park, saw a stunningly beautiful woman, and lost my head.

Damn her!

I hadn't really planned on doing that just now, kissing her like that. Thanks to Jesse, I had to know if it was a date or not. Why did I have to go and kiss her like that?

_She just..._ A pang stabs me in the heart and I wince from the sting of it. _She just... She was standing there looking so scared and sad that I couldn't stand it!_

_I was blinded by her beautiful face... and hair... eyes... Shit! Then she just_ had _to mention that thing about her ex-fiancé, making me feel empathy for her._

I let out a pained exhale and hear footsteps approaching me. I look up and see Lynne sitting across the table from me.

"She left," I say before Lynne can get a word in. "I did what I do best and ran her off."

"I doubt that's what happened. Talk," she mildly orders.

"What's there to say? I kissed her, and she ran away. End of story," I say and shrug my shoulders as I sit back in the chair.

After she sits there and thinks for a minute, she says, "Look. I admit I don't know the whole of it, but have you considered that Erin is shy?"

"Yes, of course I have. I'd place bets she is," I say and look at her like I'm wondering if she thinks I'm stupid. "Look, it's not like I attacked her or anything! In fact..." I make an exasperated growling noise. I don't want to talk about this with anybody.

"Did she say or do anything that would explain why she ran away?" Lynne asks.

I stand up and push my chair back under the table. I scowl down at Lynne and say, "I need a drink. Want anything?"

She looks back up at me seriously and replies, "I want you to sit and think about this before you go jumping to conclusions like I know you're doing. Erin isn't Ashley."

"Shut up," I throw back at her as I walk to the bar. 'Shut up' is the worst thing to say according to Adele. I feel bad I said it to Lynne. Another 'wonderful' thing to add to my list of bad things to happen to me tonight.

### Erin

I only make it as far as a few steps into my house before I collapse on the floor, crying. I can only imagine what Bryce must be thinking right now.

Sean, you are such an asshole! Will I ever be normal again?

_I'm sick of crying about this! Why am I doing it again?!_ A heartbroken sob escapes me. I double over from the pain I feel and place my forehead on the floor, my arms around my middle.

How did I talk myself into going to that party? I guilted myself into it. Bryce just had looked so hopeful that he could convince me to go, and I knew I couldn't hide in my house forever.

Then, the look on his face when I showed up... and finding out he'd called around asking his friends to watch for me. So that's how he found me at the library like that yesterday. That was no accident. All his friends looked so hopefully at me too. Why?

_"I understand, probably more than anyone on this island." That's what he said. What happened to him? Shit! Here I am feeling sorry for myself when it looks like the woman that was/is Adele's mother probably hurt him. Oh no! No, I'm not ready, but he was, and I literally pushed him away._ I sob louder again with this knowledge.

I sit up again and wipe my eyes. _But, I_ told _him I wasn't in a place where I could start anything, yet he still persisted in trying to get me to. "Maybe I can help get rid of the hurt" is what he said before he kissed me. No, Bryce. It didn't work! It just brought up those memories again. I just can't trust anyone yet._

Will I ever be able to?

I want to.

Well, that's that then. If I want to then I can. I just... need time.

I hate you, Sean. You too, Meredith.

I gather myself together somehow, and I make a sort-of plan. The first part of my plan is to get some sleep. I need to sleep on this before I go jumping into something. Everything might already be ruined, but I'm not just going to leave it at that.

I lie down on my pillow and more tears course down my cheeks, sometimes getting stuck in my ears. I roll over onto my side to keep it from happening more.

I force myself to stop thinking about Sean and instead think of that kiss tonight. That is, before I ruined everything by freaking out. If nothing else, that kiss proved to me that it _is_ possible to feel stuff like that again. For the longest time during that kiss, I didn't think about Sean one tiny bit. Well, until I thought about thinking about him. It all went downhill from there.

_Just think about Bryce. It's not Bryce's fault that Sean's a dickhead._ I actually let out a tiny laugh as I think, _He even called him an idiot._

_Bryce is a good guy... not to mention a total babe. I bet he sets hearts aflutter everywhere he goes._ I let out a small giggle in spite of everything, knowing how much of a girlie-girl I am.

What if I'm just another conquest? Okay. I have to be careful. But... that relieved look on his face... and the hopeful looks on his friends' faces tells me, I hope, that there's more. Maybe I'm reading too much into it again.

I hold my other pillow tight as I think about how important, all of a sudden, what I'm going to do tomorrow is to me. _I_ _may not have friends all over the island, but_ he _does. And I'll just go find them._ _If nothing else, I'll catch him at his bar sometime. I really don't think I want to wait that long, however._

I wake up early and start hitting likely locations where his friends might work.

I thought I'd try the spa at the top of the hill first and work my way down. As it turns out, I'm lucky enough to find someone quickly, Lynne. She seemed nice last night; I hope I'm not wrong in that guess. I find her sitting on a sofa of some kind outside on a deck near the main entrance, and she looks surprised to see me.

I say hi to her as I walk up. Once her look of surprise leaves her face, it gets replaced with a look of almost angered distrust. I suppose I don't blame her. Still, I wonder if my 'another girl likes him when he starts dating' scenario for my book might actually be true.

"What can I do for you, Erin?" she asks in an even voice.

I take in a deep breath and let it out. "I'm looking for Bryce, could you tell me where I might find him?"

"You left in a hurry last night," she states instead of answering the question.

Ugh, either you know where I might find him or you don't. Don't waste my time!

"Yes, that's what I have to talk to him about." _Other than that, butt out._

"I can give you some good guesses where he might be, but let me tell you something first," she says.

_Oh great, please don't harp on me,_ I think.

She continues, "I don't know your story, but Bryce has been deeply hurt in the past. I'll let him tell you what happened if he wants to. I don't want to see my oldest friend hurt again, so let's not become enemies before we even really know each other. Because if you _do_ hurt him, I'll do my best to make your life a living hell."

_Bitch,_ I think as a first reaction to what she said. Then I put myself in her shoes. _She wouldn't be this way if she wasn't really worried about him._ That thought actually gives me hope.

"I realize you're just worried about him, so I'll tell you I have no intention of hurting him. That's why I need to find him and talk to him," I say, hoping I'm not snapping at her. I don't need to bitch back at her if I need her help.

She sighs and smiles a little bit, and I see the Lynne I saw last night. She tells me a few places where I might find him. I thank her and start looking, driving around on my pink scooter.

I try the first one, no good. Then I get lost. The second place I try yields nothing as well. I start to lose hope. She wouldn't tell me where he lives, and I only have a couple places left to try before I give up and just go sit at a table at his bar with a notebook in case I get another idea for my book.

I catch a break at the fourth, and last, place Lynne told me to look. I find him sitting and probably brooding, looking out at the ocean. My heart starts pounding in my ears as I try to control my nerves. I clench my fists - no backing out now. Sandals brushing the grass at my feet, I walk towards where he sits on the sand.

# Chapter 6: Don't Apologize

### Bryce

I wake up earlier than normal. That's cruel of my body to do this to me. Of all the mornings I'd love to sleep in, it won't let me this time. Since Adele is still at her friend's house, I decide to go for a walk.

I end up at an empty lot near the beach where I sit and listen to the waves. It's not too far from my house, and I often come here to think.

_I hate this. How did this happen so fast? I think maybe what might've done it is when I found out she was a local. The very idea that she wasn't going to leave made me hope that maybe, just_ maybe _I could try again._

Then she says no, shoves me, and runs off.

I wish I could just forget about her.

_What was it Lynne said? "Did she do or say anything that would explain why she ran away?_ " _Well, she told me about her ex-fiancé and best friend. And... oh shit. Shit! She kept saying the pain was still too fresh. I wasn't listening. I didn't want to hear that. I thought I could just make it better. I thought she might need me as much as I need her._

She never would tell me if she treated last night like a date. No, in fact, she said she wasn't ready to date anyone. I wonder what Jesse would make of that. But she kissed me back... so she can't be totally unaffected.

I'm thinking too much.

I won't give up. Not totally. Not yet. I was a bit of an ass I guess. I told her nobody understood what she was going through better than me then I go and contradict myself by trying to do to her what Pamela kept hoping all those girls would try to do to me.

I sigh exasperatedly at myself and fold my arms across my knees, resting my head on them, closing my eyes, and listening to the waves some more. I need to stop thinking for a little while.

A shadow passes over me.

I open my eyes and pick my head up a little. On the sand in front of me I see a pair of white sandals facing me. _It's her, and damn it if her feet aren't beautiful too. What's she doing here?_

"Hi," I say, not looking up. I don't think I can stand to look at her face and eyes just yet.

"You're a difficult person to find, do you know that?" she asks in place of a greeting as she stands between me and the ocean.

"No I'm not," I belligerently argue back. I know I'm sounding like an adolescent, but I came here to think. I didn't ask to be found.

All the same, I'm sort of glad she's here. Part of me sighs with relief. She went looking for me... pretty damn early in the morning too if she's been looking for me for a while now like she implied. I work on keeping my guard up, however. I don't know _why_ she went looking for me.

"Well, this is the last of the places Lynne told me you might be," she says, and I make the mistake of glancing up at her.

_She looks like a Barbie doll,_ I think as I see she's wearing a Barbie-pink button down shirt and a short, white skirt to match her sandals. Her glowing blonde hair is pulled up into a ponytail before it cascades down over her shoulder. I close my eyes, but the picture of her remains in my head. I've got it bad, and I can almost understand why and how Jesse claims to fall in love so fast.

She went looking for Lynne, someone she hardly knows, to try and get ideas to find me.

"So you found me," I say, still sounding belligerent. "What do you want?"

"I have to explain myself," she says. "I'm s-"

"You don't have to," I interrupt. I stretch my legs out in front of me a little and focus on my flip flops to keep from looking at her.

"Yes I do!" she almost snaps. I can't help but think it's funny how someone as quiet as I've found her to be can get louder when she's angry about something.

I try not to smile, still keeping my guard up, as I say, "Then go ahead and explain if you feel you must." I steadfastly maintain my gaze on my shoes.

Damn it if she doesn't get right in my line of vision by crouching down in front of me. _She did that on purpose just to torture me; I know it._ I find myself staring at her knees, then her arms. Then I can't help but think that if she just moved a certain way I'd be able to see right up her skirt. _Oh I don't need this! Not if she's going to say no._ I torturously imagine myself running my tongue up the inside of her thigh.

She starts talking, thank God, providing a small distraction. "I have to tell you why I ran away last night. I just panicked when you kissed me because it brought up all these memories when some of the same emotions rose to the surface again."

I was about to tell her I finally caught on that she hasn't gotten over what happened to her, but the word emotions caught my attention. "What emotions?" I ask and feel strong enough to look up at her face now, which blushes.

She doesn't answer. Instead, she runs her finger around in little lines in the sand. Knowing I've hit on something and not willing to let it go, I reach out and take her hand to get her attention. That, and I just had to touch her in one way or another. There's the tiniest movement that she uses to try and free her hand, but I have a firm grasp of it. I am now watching every nuance of expression on her face.

"Please tell me," I ask nicely.

She looks like she's in a mild panic, and I wonder if I'm pushing too hard when she says, "I ... I can tell I'm beginning to have the same feelings for you that I did for my fiancé... my _ex_ -fiancé, and I'm terrified."

I'm not happy she's terrified, but my heart soars because of what she just said.

She watches me warily as I scoot closer to her. I reach up and start playing with the fingertips of her other hand as I say, "You don't have to be terrified of me. At any rate, I know exactly what you mean. I've been terrified too, I guess you could say, ever since Adele's mother left me."

"What happened?" she quickly asks then looks away like she's embarrassed that she was prying.

I don't see anything wrong with telling her. After all, she's told me so much herself. I take a deep breath. "It's okay to ask that," I say to her expression. "Ashley left us about five years ago. I own a bar. I work nights. I have for about seven or eight years now. Well, let me just start at the beginning."

"It's okay, you don't have to if you don't want to," she says quickly.

I look up at her beautiful face and say, "But I want to." _Definitely have it bad._ I take another breath and start at the beginning. "Ashley and I were high school sweethearts. Then, our junior year, I got her pregnant. Her family tried to convince her to give it up for adoption. My family wouldn't hear of that. To make that part of the story shorter, we kept it, her, Adele, obviously. My parents helped so much those first few years. Then, we got married right out of high school. She got a job working at the school; I got a job working at the bar I now own."

"She worked days; you worked nights," she says, understanding.

"Yes. We didn't see much of each other. We were just there for Adele all the time. We didn't need to put her in daycare or anything like that. Well, then Adele started kindergarten, I bought the bar and it started doing well, and Ashley started making special use of the time she had to herself when Adele went to bed and I hadn't come home yet for the night. She started chatting online with this guy on the mainland. I only found out about this as she was packing her suitcase. She'd decided she didn't want either of us, and that she wanted to go be with this other man.

"Sure, I didn't see her as much as I'd have liked to, but that didn't mean I stopped loving Ashley. Her leaving me came as a shock. Sometimes the pain of rejection, not necessarily the pain of losing her anymore, hits hard." I play with her fingers some more as something occurs to me. "And I've not talked about it to a single person until now."

"And then, what I did last night... running away like I did," she says then cusses under her breath, which just makes me laugh.

I can't stop myself; I reach up and brush her cheek with my fingers. "I shouldn't have done what I did. You'd _told_ me you weren't ready for any of that, and I, above all, should've understood that."

Her blue eyes cut into mine as she asks in a brusque tone, "Are you apologizing for kissing me?" After I give her a confused expression, she continues, "Don't ever apologize for kissing me."

I rise up to my knees and try to understand what she meant by that and to make my face a little higher than hers. I mean, I _think_ I know what she meant by that, but I don't want to jump to conclusions. "What do you mean?" I have to ask.

She bites her lip for a few seconds, driving me crazy, before she says, "I mean... " She lets out a huff. "You're looking at me like that again!"

I don't know what she means, but that's not what I want to find out. I want to know what she meant about the kissing thing. We start talking very fast after I say, "Too bad. Tell me what you mean."

"I can't think!"

"Then don't think! You said for me not to apologize for kissing you which tells me that it's okay. Is it?"

"You mean is it okay for you to kiss me?"

"Yes, that's what I mean."

"I don't know! How can I know?! I just don't want you to apologize for it afterwards."

I can't stand it anymore. "Okay."

I think I surprise both of us when I suddenly pull her up to me, dragging her a little towards me as well. She lets out this startled cry, but then she clings to me and kisses me back. In the back of my mind, the very back, I worry that she'll think of him, panic, and run off again.

Irritatingly, this thought works its way to the very front of my mind, making me pull back and growl, "Don't think about him."

"I wasn't," she says, her eyes wide.

I kiss her again, but I have to pull back again and say, "Good." However, I can see it in her eyes. I mentioned him, so now she's thinking about him. _Damn._ "Stop it," I say and watch her close her eyes. I'm getting a little pissed, but not at her. "Erin..." I warn.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"If I ever see that son of a bitch..."

"Just don't talk about him," she says.

"No problem," I answer and just go back to kissing her. Several times, she appears to want to pull away, but I won't let her. I want to drive out any thought of anyone else and make sure she stays in the here and now, only thinking about _me_ as I kiss her. _Me, Erin._

# Chapter 7: Hold On Tight

### Erin

"I don't know! How can I know? I just don't want you to apologize for it afterwards."

The rapid-fire conversation we have comes to a halt for a second. He just stares at me like he's debating something.

"Okay," he says and yanks me up to him as I let out a startled cry. He holds me securely as he crushes his lips to mine.

_Whoa. Whoa, Bryce! That wasn't me_ telling _you to kiss me. ... but... Holy crap this man can kiss!_ Something happens to me. I decide I can go with my plan and sort of do this. I can ... allow him to be this way. _I think I need it._ I cling to him and put everything I have, even if it isn't much, into the kiss.

This isn't quite what I intended to happen when I set out this morning. I'd planned on telling him that I understood he'd gotten over whatever had happened (something I now know). I wanted him to know that I haven't gotten over what happened to me, but I wanted to ask him to help me just like he'd said. I'm still scared out of my wits, but I'd be crazy if I said I didn't have feelings for him.

"Don't think about him," he says to me out of the blue.

_Huh? Oh. Sean._ "I wasn't," I tell him. _But now I am. Here I am, getting over someone I thought was wonderful, now in the arms of a man I hardly know that likes to move_ fast _. Red flag here._

"Good," he says and goes back to kissing me.

I'm right. What am I doing? Yes, I really like him, but I also hardly know him. What if he's a player? I think I'd just shrivel up and die if I were to get hurt on top of hurt.

"Stop it," he says, again making me think of Sean.

Sean started out wonderful like this. He swept me off my feet, just like what would happen to someone in my book. Well, my old piece of crap book anyway. He was so romantic...

"Erin..." he warns against my lips.

_Oh crap. I'm kissing one guy while thinking of another._ "I'm sorry." I whisper, now actually guilty of what he'd been accusing me of a moment ago.

He scowls and says, "If I ever see that son of a bitch...."

_Stop it, Bryce._ "Just don't talk about him," I say simply. _Get rid of him. I don't want to think about him. Quit mentioning him!_

"No problem," he answers me and just goes back to kissing me.

Thoughts about wondering what the hell I'm doing run through my head. I could really come to like, love, Bryce, but I have to be careful. _How can I be careful when all he has to do is just look at me in a certain way with his warm brown eyes and I want to melt into a puddle at his feet? I have to slow this down._ I try to pull back, but he won't let me. After that, I go back and forth from wanting him to release me to clinging to him. I must look ridiculous.

He stands up and offers his hand to help me stand now. I'm really nervous. We have so much to talk about.

"And here's where I don't apologize," he says, his eyes twinkling as he pulls me to him. He acts like he's about to kiss me again, but I lean away. Then he stops with this confused expression on his face.

"I still have some things I need to say," I offer as an explanation. He just stares down at me with _that_ look again. I can't help but reach up to run my fingers through his hair, also using this as a way to hold him off for a minute.

I try to think through his stare. _I've known him for what? Not quite three days and I already feel something for him. So far, it's been mostly physical. I suppose there's nothing wrong in that for someone who's emotionally unstable like I am. But, I sense that he actually does care that I've been hurt. Hopefully, I didn't imagine that._

"You said you could get rid of the hurt," I begin.

"Erin, when I said that I wasn't thinking. I know for a fact that it's not that easy," he quickly responds before I can say another thing. _He likes to interrupt._

"Well, that's a shame you just contradicted yourself because I thought I could let you try to help. I _want_ you to help. You already are anyway," I say and watch as a multitude of emotions cross his face. _So strange, Sean was always so reserved._

He closes his eyes and rests his forehead on mine with a strained look on his face. "I don't know if I can totally get rid of him, that takes time also. But, I _want_ to start a serious relationship with you. And I've not wanted anything serious for a long, long time. I'd thought I'd forgotten how to be serious." His head still resting on my forehead, his brown eyes cut up to me, and he says, "So where does that leave us?"

"I want to have a serious relationship as well. Part of me says I'm crazy for thinking this is a good idea, but it's only a very small part," I say. He smiles and takes a breath like he's going to say something again, but I put my finger on his lips before he can and continue, "I'm not saying I won't have moments where I act like the sky is falling, but I can say I'll try to just bury those feelings I had for him away. I just know, especially after what you told me, that if there's anyone out there that can help me, it's probably you." I remove my finger from his lips. _He has nice lips._

I'm reminded of him saying that he wanted to just hold my face in his hands and stare at me all day when he places both hands on either side of my face. He drags his thumb across my lips, and I have that melting feeling again. Still, he's looking at me with a concerned expression.

"Burying them doesn't work, but I can do my damndest to help you get over them," he says. _I wonder if he can feel my pulse racing at my throat with his fingertips._

_"Rebound. Rebound. Rebound!"_ my subconscious taunts me. I tell it to shut the hell up. I _like_ Bryce. This is _not_ a rebound relationship. I don't even think I'm capable of that. I'd like to think I'm too nice for that. I just won't do that to someone. _I've told him how unstable I'll be, and he wants me anyway._

I have to ask: "So you're willing to put up with my crazy, unstable-ness?" I smile a small smile at him because of my insane question.

He smiles back at me and says, "You're in good company. Yes, I can do that. Is it crazy that I want to? In addition to you being stunningly beautiful, we both have similar stories."

I disagree with the beautiful bit. No, not with this chin, ears that stick out a little, glasses because contacts bother my eyes, and pointy nose. Still, I like that he thinks so.

He leans forward a little and gently kisses my lips. I have to hold onto his shoulders because I fear my knees are going to give out on me since he's not got a tight hold of me. The kiss is really quite simple by most standards, but it's the emotion behind it that gets to me.

I now don't worry about _me_ getting hurt anymore - but him. I could really hurt him. If Lynne hadn't have said what she said I'd sort of doubt that thought, but with the way he's acting... I worry about him. _Strange, when it's me that has the power to hurt him, and I have no intention to._

My stomach growls.

He smiles a little down at me and asks, "Have you eaten breakfast?"

I'd only had some coffee before I left the house this morning, so I shake my head no.

Still smiling, he says, "Well, c'mon then. The diner ain't half bad."

"Okay," I say simply, and we pile onto my little scooter. I let him drive it. I'd be worried about balance if I were driving with two people crammed onto it. Besides, this way I get to wrap my arms around his waist and hold on tight.

"Oh, this diner," I say, sounding like an airhead. The place is a small rectangle, a bit bigger than my house, and it has outdoor seating (a popular idea here) as well as indoor. The landscaping around the diner is beautiful with the tropical flora creating a nice shade yet not stopping the cooling breeze.

"Yeah?" he asks, confused now about my statement.

"Well, it's just ... that's my house." I point caddy corner across the street.

He smiles and says cryptically, "Simon was right."

"Huh?" I ask him to explain.

"Well, your house is the most recent one bought, and Simon, my brother-in-law, heard about it. When I mentioned you, well, when Adele mentioned you to my sister, he guessed correctly."

_So, he has a sister and a brother-in-law, plus all those friends at the party last night, plus a daughter._ I think as I watch him look like he's debating telling me something. He shakes his head the tiniest bit.

We go inside to eat. Our waitress pays a lot more attention to Bryce than me. She gives me an almost disgusted look. I watch very intently as my food is cooked and delivered, making sure she doesn't spit in it or something.

Meanwhile, Bryce attempts small talk. Eventually, he asks, "So, do you like your house?"

Since our food is delivered, I relax a little and answer him. "I don't like the house so much as the view." He smiles like he understands. I continue, "I really only needed a place to sleep, bathe, eat, and put my computer."

His eyebrows raise in surprise as he asks, "Why the computer in the list of necessities?"

"Because I'm trying to become a writer," I say and blush, remembering my current book's main character is based upon the man sitting in front of me.

I'm spared the possibility of him asking about my latest book when our waitress comes by and asks me if I want more coffee. I decline, worried about the pot of coffee in her hand. I notice she didn't offer Bryce any. When he asks for some, she all of a sudden says that she forgot that this pot was decaf and she'll be right back. _Right._

When we get up to leave, she asks Bryce to 'not be a stranger.' I have the strangest urge to pick up a napkin holder and throw it at her head. Okay, so it's not that strange. Bryce acts oblivious. Whether or not he is is another question.

After we exit the diner, I spontaneously turn around and ask him, "So, the waitress is an old friend of yours?" I've already forgotten her name.

He winces the tiniest, almost invisible bit. "Yes. Well, I don't know if you could call her a 'friend.' My sister tried once to set me up with her. It didn't work."

Why does that piss me off? He just said it didn't work. How many other women on the island am I going to run into that had been set up with him?

His cell phone rings, and he answers it with an apologetic expression. Apparently, his daughter was at a sleepover last night and the parents of the other child are bringing her back home.

He smiles down at me and says, "Let's go to my house so you can officially meet my daughter." He takes my hand, and we walk over to where we parked my scooter.

_Yeah, okay... daughter. Sure. I can do that. Yeah... 'Hey Adele, come meet Daddy's new girlfriend.'_ My knees almost act like they want to lock with every step I take, causing my ponytail to swish back and forth while I bounce along as he pulls me behind him.

# Bonus: Jesse and The Rules

### Jesse Gillespie

My buddy Bryce the Stone-Hearted is throwing a party tonight at his bar. I simply have to find out why he had me on the lookout for some blonde woman with glasses and blue eyes. Just as we wonder if she'll show up to the party or not, she pulls up in a little, pink scooter.

I get a good look at her.

_No. Oh no please no._ That's _her? No fair. That's not fair, Bryce. She's too damn gorgeous for dibs._

Look at her! No wonder Bryce finally cracked and joined the rest of us looking for 'the one.'

I watch as he brings her up into the light, and I purposefully back away for fear the raw emotion on my face will get seen. _How is it that she's escaped my notice? Was she living under a rock? She must_ really _be new._

She's a little put off by the small crowd we make. She's incredibly uncomfortable. Shy even. He said her name was Erin.

I continue to watch as Bernadette walks over and pesters Bryce. He has to go take care of something. I have a moment!

"Hhiiiii," I say in a slightly silly manner, trying to break the ice.

We talk a little and introduce ourselves, shaking hands. Her hand feels so soft and tiny in mine, and I don't want to let it go. Definitely not fair.

I have to quickly let it go, however, when I see Bryce walking back over. "I guess you've met my _best_ friend, Jesse," he says in a warning voice.

He looks at me like he's wondering what the hell I'm doing. I look back at him with a 'you're crazy if you think she qualifies for dibs' look.

I keep up appearances as I say, "Well, it looked like you were busy, so I thought I'd introduce myself." I am so mad at my best friend, but I work very hard at hiding it. It wouldn't do to have this inevitable argument right in front of Erin. The three of us get quiet. Bryce is wordlessly telling me to back off, and I don't want to. I guess she picked up on our anger because she walks away from us.

"What the fuck, man?" Bryce immediately mumbles. We keep our voices low.

"I could say the same thing! You can't call dibs. Dibs are void with someone like that," I say.

"I can and did, back off!"

Bryce and I know each other pretty good, so I don't even bother with the 'I was just talking to her' crap. He knew what I was building to.

"I don't know if I can do that." I look over at her as Lynne sits down in front of her. Then I get an idea. "Does she even consider this a date? I mean, have you asked her out officially?" The look on his face tells me no.

He grits his teeth a little as he answers, "I tried to, but she looked like she wasn't going to come so I took it down a notch."

"So what you're saying is no." I watch as she laughs about something.

"What I'm saying is I don't know," he growls.

I look at Bryce now. He's had it rough with that Ashley leaving him. I was the one to pull him out of his slump and get him to date at least short term. Now he's found someone, and he's acting different. What kind of friend would I be if I stole her from him? Girl ain't worth a friend, but if _she's_ not thinking their dating, all bets are off.

"You'd probably better go find out," I tell him. "Cuz if she doesn't think so then no dibs."

He glares at me, but we have a long established set of rules. I say she should fall in the 'no dibs' category we save for models and the like. It makes for a little fun competition those times. Yeah, it's shallow really, but those are the rules.

He walks over and talks to her a little before they pass me, heading for the overflow seating. I'm going to give him tonight.

Not too much time passes, and I see her drive away on her scooter. That's that then.

_I'd probably better steer clear of Bryce for the rest of the night. He can't be too happy right now, and I don't think I'm the one he needs to talk to._ After a few minutes, Lynne walks down the back stairs towards him. I decide to ask Ginger to dance. That girl is crazy, but good crazy.

# Chapter 8: Introductions

### Erin

I'm surprised by how close Bryce's house is to mine as he drives us up to it since Adele will be coming home soon. It's on the same part of the island. Mine backs up to the lagoon; his is near the ocean. The front of it faces the road, but the side of it runs right up to the beach. I couldn't afford an ocean view.

He owns a two story, modern-looking house with porches that face out over the ocean. I see a telescope residing near one of the metal rails along the edge of the closest porch.

He parks my little scooter right next to his front walk, and I cannot help but notice the Audi sitting in the driveway. _Convertible. Of course it is,_ I think cynically. _I guess with Adele, he can't exactly go around on a scooter all the time like I do. The bar must do_ very _well._ I look up. _His house is huge compared to mine. Hang on a sec..._

I ask, "Isn't the bar open right now? When do you have to go in?"

"In a few hours. I have an assistant manager that opens for me. Why?"

I shake my head a little. "Nothing."

He turns around and looks at me with a concerned expression and says, "Is this your way of saying you'd rather just go home? You can, you know, if you don't feel comfortable meeting Adele yet."

I shake my head a little again and say, "No, it's not that. I was just curious." _And I appreciate you thinking of that._

He smiles that smile that makes me worry my knees are going to give out on me and says, "C'mon. I'll give you a quick tour before she gets here."

He never just walks ahead of me and expects me to follow. No, he's got to get hold of my hands and pull me along. Maybe I look like my feet are glued to the ground all the time. Maybe that's just one of his things. Oh well, I like it. Sean used to just walk ahead real fast and expect me to catch up.

We walk into a foyer part of his house. Just beyond that, the foyer's width splits to have a hallway moving back towards the back of the house with large, picturesque windows on the right side of it. Down the hallway, there's a single door on the left that I assume either leads to a bathroom or a coat closet. Past that, I can see the bottom few stairs of a staircase, and then I think I see an archway leading to what is probably the kitchen. Just to the left of where we stand now, I can see a little living room.

He only has time to point to the living room, and we don't even make it back to the kitchen before Adele throws open the door.

"I had fun, Daddy!" She runs up to him and hugs him like it's an automatic thing. I watch how much they love each other, and I turn to mush. _He really loves his daughter._ I have to work hard to keep from tearing up. _Her mother left her father. My father left my mother._ I'm such an emotional wreck.

I hear them whisper to each other, probably about me. Oh well, I'm assuming it's not bad.

I think I guessed right because Adele walks right up to me and introduces herself.

"Hi, I'm Adele Burch. Daddy says your name is Erin."

"Yes, that's right." What else do I say?

"I'm glad I told him to get up and go talk to you instead of just sitting there staring at you all the time. I'd been trying to carry on a conversation with him when I noticed all he was saying was 'yeah' and 'uh huh.' So, when I mentioned that _this_ time the alien spacecraft was white with purple spots and the creatures inside had six arms and legs and a tail and he said 'uh huh,' I knew something was up. Nice to meet you, Erin."

"Um, thank you, Adele," I say once I recover from what she said. I wink slightly at her to let her know I'm also thanking her for what she did, not only from the nice to meet you. "Nice to meet you too." I glance up at Bryce and see he's got his head down a little, held up by a few fingertips between his brows, and he's laughing silently. I'm guessing his last name is Burch too.

The girl isn't bashful at all. She immediately strikes up a conversation, wanting to know what I do. I tell her I'm trying to become a writer and that before I worked in a bookstore. We right away discuss several popular book series. She likes to read too. I don't think she should really read anything I've written. I think most people would be shocked to know I wrote what I wrote. Maybe I'll publish it under a different name. Then she says she wants to go upstairs and play, and she turns to look at her dad for a second before dashing up the stairs.

When I look up at Bryce, he has this unreadable expression on his face that causes butterflies to explode in my stomach. _I guess I did okay._

"So that's what she was talking about just before she ordered me to get up and go talk to you," he says as he walks over to me. "I'd wondered. I guess I was just so mesmerized that I didn't notice anything else." _Oh crap._ That _look. If he tops what he just said right now by kissing me I think I'll faint or something._

"My sister will be over in a little while to watch her while I'm at work, so you can meet them as well," he says out of the blue.

_Daughter is one thing. Sister is another._ I get worried and feel my eyes widen as I stare randomly into his living room from where we stand in the foyer.

"You okay?" he asks all of a sudden. He puts his hands on my shoulders and says, "You don't have to. I just remembered that it's Saturday, and she comes over to cook dinner here on Saturdays." He leans over to get in my line of vision. "Erin?"

"No, it's fine. I suppose I'm bound to meet her sooner or later, so why not today?" My voice almost sounds like a monotone.

He smiles a small smile at me and brushes his fingers on my cheek as he says, "Don't worry. Thanks to Adele mostly, she already likes you." He clears his throat like he's berating himself for saying what he just said.

He takes my hands again and starts pulling me towards his relatively small living room. "You look like you need to sit down for a minute." He tells me that Adele and Pamela were the ones to decorate the house and he hates the stupid pillows on the couch but if he moves them then Adele gets bent out of shape so he leaves them. I get the feeling he's rambling like he might be as nervous as I am about his sister and her husband coming over.

"Erin, you don't have to stay to meet them," he says once we've sat ourselves down on his couch.

"Do you not want me to?" I ask. _He keeps asking me if I want to leave like he expects me to leave._

"Only if you don't want to."

I exhale exasperatedly and ask, "Do you want me to go, Bryce?"

"What?! Hell no!" To emphasize his point I guess, he pulls me close. He says quickly and quietly into my ear, "Stay. Please stay. I just don't want you to be uncomfortable. I feel like I'm moving too fast for you, but I can't help myself. But if I have my choice I want you to stay. In fact, I don't want to go to work because _I_ want to stay. Stay."

I want to laugh at how he just let all that spill out of him like that, but instead, I turn myself a little and kiss him. _Kissing like t_ _his isn't too fast. I'm a little freaked out by meeting your sister, but_ this _is just fine._ He acts surprised for about a second, and I revel in that second. After he kissed me like that on the beach this morning, he needs to be surprised right back. However, that second is short, and he locks his arms around me. I guess I could say that he kisses me _back_ , but it doesn't feel that way with the exuberant way he clutches me to him and takes control. I get the feeling he'd been dying to kiss me for a while now, but hasn't because he thought I would think it was too fast.

He pulls back a minute, taking deep breaths. I open my eyes a little and see an almost worried expression on his face. I lightly kiss his lips once, but he remains breathing heavily with that same worried look. I'm curious to know what's going through his mind right now, but with that look there's also the sense that he's trying to figure out how to say something. His emotions show so much on his face that I feel a little disoriented. I'm not used to this, but I like it. _Who was this Ashley bitch?_

"Erin..." he starts to say, but then the doorbell rings. Both of us suddenly act like a couple of teenagers who's parents have come home earlier than expected.

We hop up and head into the foyer. I want to keep going down the hall and hide in the kitchen.

I notice his sister carries a toddler in her arms. I don't remember if he mentioned a nephew. Her brown eyes immediately cut over to me. She doesn't smile, but she looks thoughtful, not angry. Her husband watches her as well.

"Hey Pam," Bryce says before the introductions begin. I learn all their names and Pamela finally smiles -- once Bryce introduces me as his girlfriend. He takes Jeremy from her, and she asks me if I'd like to help her in the kitchen. I get that that's really code for 'time for girl talk.'

"So did you go to the party last night?" she asks, breaking the ice.

"Um, yeah. I left early though." I don't bother to explain why.

"Oh? How come?" she asks innocently, slightly turning to look at me as she opens a hot dog package.

I get the feeling it's hard to keep things from this woman. "Well, something happened, but it's all better now." _Butt out._

"So, I take it since he introduced you as the girlfriend that you like my brother," she says and now I almost wish that she'd ask me more about the party last night. After I mumble a yes, she turns to face me and lean back against the counter. "I'm so glad!" she suddenly erupts and bounds over to hug me without warning. It's just a quick little 'I'm happy' hug that she doesn't give me time to respond.

"Okay, I guess I'm okay then," I say quietly.

"I have been wanting and waiting for Bryce to introduce someone as his girlfriend for a long time. You have no idea," she breathes as she goes back to the hot dogs.

"I kinda do, actually," I say. She turns to me with a question in her eyes. I shrug and say, "He told me."

Her mouth drops open slightly for a few seconds before she says, "How did you get him to do that?" To my dumbfounded expression she continues, "I can't get the man to tell me anything. I have to wheedle and trick him into telling me things, and he just _told_ you right off the bat like that?"

She walks over to the stove and says, "Not that that's a bad thing that he talked to you about it."

"I don't know what I did. He just told me. I even told him he didn't have to," I say to my feet.

She turns around after washing her hands at the sink and dries her hands on a small towel she found in a drawer. Once her hands are dried, she throws the towel on the counter and puts her hands on her hips. "So that's how you do it! You tell him he doesn't have to! Somehow I doubt that would work for me." She stands there like she's contemplating something while biting on the inside of her lip. She looks at me like she's deep in thought about something, and she keeps her thoughts to herself.

We both jump a little when the timer on the microwave beeps.

As she walks over to get the hotdogs out of the pot, she says, "I'm sorry I only planned on having hot dogs today. I didn't know it wasn't going to be just us."

I try to reassure her, "No, no. Hot dogs are fine."

"Good. I worried you were a vegetarian or something," she says before she calls the guys to dinner. Adele loudly says from the top of the stairs that she'll be down in a minute.

Simon gets Jeremy set up in a high chair in the kitchen, and the toddler immediately starts putting his baby food in his hair. Apparently, his parents aren't worried about him making a mess of himself.

Simon turns to me and says, "He gets in enough food even though he ends up wearing half of it. We just anticipate having to bathe him after every meal." Then he laughs a deep laugh that I try to return. He has a nice voice, and with his accent, dark skin, and dreads, I find myself thinking he fits the islander stereotype. It's not a bad thing, and I enjoy his infectious smile.

Bryce's little dining room mirrors the size of his living room as it juts out a little from the kitchen like the living room juts out from the foyer. Most of the exterior walls are made up of large windows, giving us an excellent view of the ocean. Some distance away, there's a small island or (I guess you could call it a) sand bar that must've been there a while because there are a few, short palm trees growing on it.

Pamela must really be a good cook. If she can do _this_ with hot dogs, I can only imagine what she could do with better resources.

Dinner goes smoothly. Pamela and Bryce rarely stay quiet the entire time. I get the feeling Bryce gets a kick out of getting on her nerves like any younger brother would. The scene makes me miss Bill, my younger brother, who acts very similar to how Bryce treats Pamela when he teases me.

Sadly, the time for Bryce to go to work arrives. I say bye to everyone inside the house and walk out with him.

"Are you okay? I mean, that was a lot to take in today," he says as he reaches for me.

I shrug my shoulders and say, "Today turned out much better than I expected."

He smiles, kisses me quickly and says, "I'd better go now or I'll never get my butt to work." Then he looks me in the eyes and says, "Call me if the sky starts falling, okay?"

I laugh a little and nod my head before walking over to my scooter and starting it up.

After I get home and park my scooter in its little spot, I decide to check my mail.

"Hi, Erin!" I hear Jesse say as he walks up to me.

# Chapter 9: Between Friends

I jump a little because Jesse startled me. I try to hide my bashfulness with a small smile as I get my hair out of my eyes. "Hi, Jesse." _a.k.a._ _Mufasa._

He looks at me with a slightly concerned expression and asks, "Everything okay? Sorry if I took you by surprise. I'd thought for sure Martha's noisiness would let you know someone was here."

"Who?"

He grins widely and points to his maroon classic beetle. "Martha!" he says like he's proud of the car.

I reach up to put my glasses back on my nose properly. They'd gotten slightly out of place while I'd gotten my mail which I now hold in my hand. _Why is he here?_

"So, what's up?" I ask bravely.

He shakes his head like he's trying to clear it before he smiles a charming smile and says, "Well, I was wandering around the shop today, and I remembered that you'd just moved here, so I figured I'd get you a housewarming gift."

_Overkill maybe?_ "Um, okay. Where is it?" I ask, noticing his hands are empty.

"Oh yeah! I left it in Martha. Hang on." He jogs back over to the beetle and pulls out a small painting. He looks guiltily at me and says, "Okay, well, I admit it. I let an employee tell me what would be a good idea." He looks at my confused expression, and his shoulders slump a little. "You don't like it. That's okay. You don't have to." He really looks down.

I try to put on a kind smile and say, "No. It's great. I don't have a thing on my walls except in my room. I'm sure I can find the perfect place for it."

"I'll help," he says, and I don't know how to tell him that that won't be necessary. I can't figure out what to say, so he follows me into the house.

We decide on a good place for it before I realize I don't have anything with which to hang it. He just props it up against the wall and berates himself for not bringing something to make it so it can be hung.

He turns around, looks out my big windows, and says, "This house is tiny, but I suppose it doesn't matter when it feels like the whole lagoon is your house with that view."

I smile a little and say, "That's what sold me on the house. That, and I needed something fast." My smile fades a little as I think about what I said and the fact that he's staring at me.

"How come?" he asks, wondering why I needed something fast.

"It's ... personal," I say.

He nods his head a little. "No problem. Still it's a great view." He walks towards me, and he points out different things we can see from my windows, including the store he manages.

After he's pointed out everything he can think of, his hand is suddenly on my shoulder as he says, "For whatever reason, I'm glad you moved here."

_Hello!_ I think in shock as his hand doesn't move off me but instead his thumb starts massaging the back of my shoulder. _You'd better think of something quick._

"I'm glad there's a place like this for me to move to. The whole place is gorgeous, and I've met so many nice people already. I even have a boyfriend as of this morning." _I don't know if I worked that in as smoothly as I'd wanted,_ I think as his thumb stops.

"Oh?" he asks before he clears his throat because his voice had taken a gravelly tone to it. "I can only assume you mean Bryce," he says, his hand _still_ on my shoulder now like a lead weight.

"Yes," I answer simply, wishing he would back off a little.

He turns to look at me and say, "Of course, he's my best friend, but _why_ him?"

_Augh! Rude!_ "Why not?" I answer, starting to get angry. That sounds an awful lot like 'why not me?' Best friends do _not_ treat each other this way. I'd hoped I'd imagined all that last night at the party.

"Okay, well, you see Erin, I feel cheated that he saw you first and I never even got a chance," he says. I glance over at him to see if he's for real and see that he actually looks a little mad. "It's not fair," he mumbles.

I round on him, and he drops his arm. "What's not fair?" I ask a little snippishly.

He answers me evenly, "That he snatched you out from under everyone's nose."

"Everyone? Or just you?" I ask, getting madder by the second.

"Well, what if it is me right now? What if I wish _I'd_ been the one to see you first? I can guarantee you that if the situation were reversed, he'd feel the same way."

"He would." I state the question.

"Yes." He dares to reach up and tuck a few strands of my hair behind my ear. Then he runs his fingers down my jaw. "He'd be mad that he'd never been given a chance," he says as his fingers stop on my chin. Warning bells sound in my head as I jerk my chin out of his grasp. He takes a step towards me, closing the distance, before he quietly asks the question I thought a minute ago, "Why not me, Erin?"

Then he kisses me, shocking the hell out of me. He takes advantage of my shock and puts a hand on either side of my face before moving one hand to the back of my neck. Everything feels like it's happening to someone else, not me, my shock runs so deep. _No._ His hand leaves my face so he can wrap his arm around my waist as he continues to try to coax a response out of me. For the briefest of seconds, I want to kiss him back. Then I'm horrified at myself.

My anger finally breaks through my shock as I get my wits about me and shove him off.

It's my turn to shock him as I scream, "How _dare_ you!!! And right after I _told_ you I'm dating your _best friend_! This is _not_ how you treat your best friend!"

He throws his arms up in a surrender gesture as he scrambles to calm me down. "I'm sorry! Look! I wanted to try, Erin! Bryce and I have gone after the same girl before in the past. Admittedly, they're usually, well always, tourists, but still..."

I make an extremely furious, high pitched sound and start shoving him towards the door. "I'm not some damn tourist, Jesse! I'm," I walk up to shove him some more as I say, "Bryce's girlfriend! Your best friend!" His back is now against the doorjamb.

I'm screaming now. " **Get out!!!** " He fumbles for the doorknob behind him and finally gets the door to open. He quickly backs down the stairs, and for a moment, I want him to trip. Then something occurs to me. I take a few steps back into the house and pick up the painting he brought for me. "And take this with you!!!" I scream as I walk back out onto my porch and throw the painting at him. The glass breaks as it hits the dirt at his feet.

He quickly picks up the painting, puts the now broken frame in his car, gets in, and drives off.

I walk back into my house, shaking with fury. _The sky is falling._

I immediately get out my phone and call Bryce to tell him the short story of what happened. I tell him I'm freaking out. "Just stay right there," he tells me. I decide not to move from this spot.

### Bryce

I get to work and things run pretty great. We've been busy for most of the day, and it looks like we're going to be the same tonight. I love Saturday nights. For many, it's their last hoorah before they have to go home, so they're usually willing to spend a little more. Even Bernadette is willing to smile while she waits tables. It's ... a little strange not to flirt while I'm working, but I also don't want to.

I keep trying to call Jesse to tell him about me and Erin, but his phone keeps going to voicemail. Either he's not hearing it ring, he's lost it, or it's broken again. I'll just have to go by his shop sometime in the morning. Still, I feel a little anxious he doesn't know. I'd almost told Erin about that discussion last night before we went to eat at the diner, but I didn't want her to know he likes her since nothing is going to happen anyway. I don't want things to be weird. He _is_ still my friend after all.

My phone rings. _Erin?_

"Hey Erin, what's up?" I ask. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy she called, but I'm surprised she did.

"The sky is falling," she says quickly.

I immediately switch hands and put my finger in my other ear so I can hear her better as I ask, "What's going on?" She sounds like she's cracking up.

"Jesse was just here," _Oh shit._ Then she starts screaming, "What kind of friendship do you two have anyway!!!?" She then starts talking really, really fast. I'm not able to catch it all, but I _do_ catch her saying 'best friends don't do this' and 'I'm not a damn tourist.' I curse under my breath. "I'm not Sean!!!" she screams and starts crying. _Who's Sean? Oh. Is that the bastard's name?_

I can see the whole thing from her point of view now. Best friends. Oh. Crap.

"No, of course you're not Sean," I say, lamely trying to reassure her.

"He said you'd do the same thing in his shoes," she accuses with a sniff.

_Damn you, Jesse._ "Just stay right there. I'll be there in a few."

"Huh," she huffs and hangs up.

I stare at my phone for a few seconds like I'm accusing it of not getting ahold of Jesse before any of this could happen. Then I tell Bernadette and Jones I have to leave for a while and I'll be back as soon as I can. Bernadette looks at me like she's disgusted. Jones, who's working the bar, merely shrugs and says they can hold the place down no sweat. If my assistant manager ever quits on me, Jones has the job no contest. I'm just glad I had three, including myself, working tonight. I hate leaving them, but I'm not about to lose Erin to Jesse's idiocy.

When I get to Erin's, I knock on the door and nobody answers. I peek in the window and see her curled up on the floor of her kitchen. I try the doorknob. It's unlocked. I walk in and kneel on the floor behind her.

"Erin?" I ask as I reach out to pet the back of her head. The way she's curled up scares me a little. It's like she's shut down. _Damn, what did Jesse_ do _? Though I don't think this is all his doing. I think it has more to do with the best friend thing. Shit._

"Meredith and I became best friends in first grade," she says randomly, yet almost confirming my suspicions.

I'm trying to follow as I say, "Jesse and I have been friends for about six years."

"Some friend," she says in almost a monotone. Then her voice takes on a little more emotion as she accuses, "So, you guys often go after the same girl?"

_Shit. How am I going to explain this so that she understands?_ I'm just going to tell her the truth. "Yes, about a dozen or so times," I guesstimate. "But I wasn't serious about any of it."

"Was he?" she asks as I sit and think about how different things are with her.

"I don't know actually. He never stayed mad at me for long if he was." I've started running my fingers through the hair of her ponytail.

"So you never bothered to find out, and you're saying you won most of the time," she accuses, and I worry I'm walking right into a trap.

"Well, actually, most of the time I'd let him have his dibs."

"Dibs?" she says, her voice and whole demeanor taking on a shrewish aspect.

Oh crap.

"Dibs, Bryce!?" her voice raises in volume. She rigidly freezes where she lies. "Is that what you did with me? Did you call _dibs_?!!!"

Several cuss words work their way through my head as I try to dig myself out of the hole I created. I sigh. "You want the truth? Okay. Yes. I did." I let out a huff. "Look. We had to come up with some way to keep us from getting into a fight every week. Most of the time it worked."

"Every week?"

_Uh oh._ "Well, not _every_ week." _Crap, now I sound like some player or something. Um... well, I was._

She tries to brush my hands off her angrily. I stubbornly refuse to stop trying to comfort her.

"Just answer me one thing, Bryce," she says stiffly. "If Jesse had asked me out first, would you try to take me from him?"

_Would you have agreed to go out with him to begin with?_ I think, but I decide not to ask that right now. I debate my answer for a minute, continuing to run my fingers through her hair, as I think about what I really would do in that situation.

I sigh and answer truthfully again. "Yes."

"Get out," she says in a cruel tone, and I feel like my heart just ripped in two. "I refuse to come between best friends."

"Erin, no!" I gasp and turn her slightly as I lift her up into my arms. She tries to push away as I tell her, "I was just telling you the truth! I'm saying I'm positive my reaction would've been the same. I would've stopped at nothing."

"Not even your supposed best friend?" she glares up at me.

"Okay, let me clarify," I say and she stops struggling for a second. "If I thought that Jesse really loved you then I wouldn't do a thing. That _has_ happened a handful of times."

"Jesse falls in love that easily huh?"

"Yes, actually, he does." _I love her._ "I, however, don't. Usually." I look down at her and hope that she can read from my expression that that isn't the case now. I'm shocked at my own internal admission. I'd almost reached that conclusion today on my couch when she'd kissed me. Something _happened_ to me when I'd watched her talking with Adele. "Do you still want me to leave?" I ask as I look sadly down at her. _I realize I love her after she asks me to leave. Figures. I'm mental._

She starts sobbing as she sits in my lap, and I pull her close. _At least she didn't tell me to leave. What will I do if she tells me to get out again?_

Her head shakes back and forth against my neck as she mumbles, "No. Don't leave."

_Then you can bet your ass I'm staying,_ I think as I tighten my hold on her.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"For what?" I ask.

"For telling you to get out. I didn't really want you to. I just ... can't ... won't ... come between friends. I'm better than Sean. I'm better than _that_."

"I think mine and Jesse's friendship can survive this," I say simply, running my fingers through her hair again.

"I threw a picture frame at him. It was a housewarming present. It broke," she says in an almost child-like voice.

I press my lips together and suddenly work very hard to keep from laughing. I can easily picture the scene. _Poor Jesse. The idiot had no idea_. I feel so relieved that she doesn't want me to leave anymore. My leg starts to cramp up from how we're sitting.

"I have to stand up," I tell her.

"Mkay."

As soon as we're standing, she throws her arms around my neck. That's just perfect by me. I have a slight pins and needles sensation in my feet that I ignore. The smell of her hair is enough of a distraction to help me forget about it. I want ... to kiss her down her neck and work my way down after undoing a couple of those buttons. _Shit._ She feels ... so damn good up against me like this that I run my hands down her back before I try and hold her even closer. _Crap._ I try to tell my body that what it wants is definitely too fast for her. Unfortunately, that doesn't stop me from wanting it.

"I'm tired," she says. "I was going to stay up and write, but I think I'll just go to bed instead." She picks her head up to look at me as she says, "Don't leave yet, okay?"

I mentally whimper, trying to remind myself to slow down. She pulls me behind her into her ... bedroom. Once in there, I watch in a sort of daze as she takes off her earrings, bracelet, shoes, glasses, and lets her hair down. _Why stop there?_ I think as she then curls up on the bed.

I stand here debating what I should do. If I were smart, I'd just kiss her goodnight real fast and head back to work. That's not what I want to do, though. I keep trying to tell myself that my way of making it all better probably isn't what she needs right now. It's hard to keep myself from doing my usual seduction thing.

"Bryce?" she asks and turns around a little to look at me questioningly as I stand here quietly. "What are you doing?"

_Trying not to go insane and losing._ "I probably should head back to work."

Her face looks mildly horrified as she says, "No! Please stay just a little longer!" _Damn it._ "At least until I fall asleep?" She actually reaches out and gets hold of my hand to pull me towards her. Her fantastic eyes pull me in better than her pulling on my hand does. I decide right now that it's probably a good thing they're hidden behind those glasses most of the time.

So, of course, I find myself in bed next to her. I've created my own hell. Her hair feels like silk against my arm, and I'm hyper-aware of everywhere her body touches mine.

"Thank you," she says. I take in a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"No problem," I lie. _Go to sleep, Erin._

"Do you have to leave when I fall asleep? Can you just stay?" she asks, and I want to scream.

I close my eyes real tight so that I can't see her eyes looking up at me as I answer, "I can't. I'll at least need to go back home to Adele so Pamela can go home."

"Your sister is really great for helping you."

"Yes she is." _Go to sleep!_

"I wish you could stay," she says quietly.

"Erin, if I stay for very long I am _going_ to seduce you." _That shirt really does only have a few buttons._ I have no idea how she reacts to what I said because she gets very quiet. I reassuringly, well I hope anyway, run my hand up and down her arm.

"Oh," she says in a small voice. "I'm sorry, Bryce. I wasn't thinking. You don't have to stay any longer if you're uncomfortable." She makes to move away from me.

_Damn it._ "I don't want to leave yet," I say as I quickly pull her back to me. "I'm fine," I lie again.

I feel her hair move on my arm as she tilts her face up to look at me. I make the mistake of looking back at her. _Beautiful,_ I think just before I claim her lips. I am teetering on the edge of total insanity. She acts surprised for a few seconds before she balls her fists in the fabric of my shirt. I can't get enough of the inside of her mouth. Then I wrap my leg around hers as I'm only half-aware of what my hands are up to. When she suddenly gasps, I realize my right hand has naturally made its way to her breast. _And she's shocked._ I quickly move my wayward hand to instead wrap my arm around her again.

I decide to give her mouth a break and go exploring. _When did these buttons get undone?_ I think as I vaguely remember undoing them a minute or so ago. _Is it really that automatic?_ I stop kissing her for a second to look down at her with a sort of confused expression. _What sort of creature have I become?_

"I'd better go now," I say quietly. _If she so much as hints she wants me to stay..._

"Okay," she whispers.

I take a deep breath and lean in to kiss her once again, forcing myself to keep it simple. I have this sudden, desperate urge to tell her how I feel, but I stop myself before I can let the words out.

"I'll see you tomorrow?" I ask.

"Sure. Whenever is good with me," she says simply, and I have to close my eyes before I get trapped in hers again. I imagine that she has some kind of power like Cyclops in X-men that she needs those glasses or she could hurt people with those eyes. It's lucky for all of us that she wears the glasses.

I force myself to get up and leave her room after another extremely-simple kiss. If it'd been anyone but her, I'd be staying for an hour or so, but it's different with her.

As I walk down her front porch steps, I have to shake my head to clear it. _Damn, Bryce. What has come over you?_

I think I love her. This is dangerously stupid. Still... well damn.

# Chapter 10: Sleep On It

### Erin

Ugh! Erin! What were you thinking! Hasn't he proven to you that he likes to move fast? Then, you invite him into your bedroom?! Of course he's going to want sex!

I sit up fully and think about everything I've learned about my new boyfriend today. My head still reels from the very fact that I _have_ a boyfriend. _Every week? He had a new girl every week. He did say he wondered if he'd forgotten how to be serious. This may be more than I can handle._

_I do_ not _want to move fast. I do_ not _want to string him along._

But I like him. I didn't really want him to leave, but obviously, it wasn't fair to him to ask him to stay if I wasn't willing to go all the way. We haven't even been an item for twenty four hours yet for goodness' sake! Item... that's funny.

I hug my knees to me as I think about what he'd said some more. He'd said that he would've stopped at nothing to go after me. That's ... kind of hot actually.

The 'dibs' thing pisses me off. Still, if I can step outside of myself for a sec I can understand why they have to do that if they want to stay friends yet have the same taste. _How am I supposed to even be around my boyfriend's best friend now? Bryce doesn't even know he kissed me... I ... sorta left that part out. I got distracted by all the other stuff._

I can't be around Jesse. He crossed the line. But he's Bryce's best friend! Or, he was. I wonder what Bryce is going to do. He never said. I guess he got distracted too.

_I hope they don't fight. I_ refuse _to come between two best friends. I'm so damaged that it's amazing anyone wants me anyway._

I get up to change clothes into just a tank top and some underwear. Then a thought occurs to me that tells me I'm not getting any sleep any time soon.

Resigned, I get up and make myself a quick cup of coffee. I have to sort this out. _Oh ow. I don't want to do that. But I can't become another Sean. But Bryce makes me feel better. But I've come between him and Jesse. But Bryce's family likes me too; his sister said he hadn't introduced anyone as a 'girlfriend' for a long, long time. So, I'm obviously something special to Bryce. But he's been friends with Jesse for six years! Yes, they've fought before, but they were all tourists... who went home, ending the argument I'm assuming. I_ am _home._

_Am I selfish? I mean, I want to keep him because he makes me feel good, wanted, loved. How do I feel about him? Well, I figured out_ last _night that I didn't want to lose whatever it is that we might have. So, what is that? Am I over-thinking this?_

Coffee cup in hand, I walk over to the small couch in my living area and have a seat.

Okay, let me simplify it for myself. One - I above all do not want to come between them. Two - I really like Bryce even though he's a player. They both are.

Oh. Shit.

He pretty much told me that's what he did. Every week. He and Jesse... every damn week. So it's just more interesting this week since I'm not a tourist? Is this a fucking competition?!

So much for simplifying things.

I can't do this!

I put my now empty cup on the floor and curl up into a ball on the couch and cry.

_"If I thought that Jesse_ _really loved you then I wouldn't do a thing," he said. But.. does that really mean shit? So... neither of them love me - duh - so yes it's a fucking competition!_

Dear Diary,

I have had one hell of a 24 hours. Going a little back -- there was that fantastic kiss, that I ran away from.. then the almost-speeding-ticket ride home on my scooter only to burst into tears on the floor.

This morning I went and sought out Bryce. His friend Lynne is more than meets the eye I think, but that's another ball of wax. WHEN I found Bryce, he acted angry at me until I admitted that I was having feelings for him (stupid me, but I'll get to that later). Then, oh dear God, Diary, it was such a wonderful day after that. What a wonderful charmer he is. I had the best morning and afternoon ever. I officially met his wonderful daughter and nice sister and brother-in-law, and his nephew is a doll. BUT it's all a lie. A fucking lie! His best friend Jesse came over and made a pass at me, nay, tried to KISS me. Scratch that -- he DID kiss me. Obviously without my permission, but come to think of it, Bryce didn't exactly ask permission either. Ugh! I can't BELIEVE I told him to not apologize.

You know what's the worst? He told me he wanted a serious relationship... right before telling me he thought he forgot how to be serious. Why didn't I see this then? Because I was caught up by those warm brown eyes and fantastic kissing ability.

Well Diary, apparently these two fight over girls all the time, and Bryce actually bragged that he won most of the time. That is... unless he let Jesse have his DIBS. DIBS!!! Can you believe it? He called DIBS on me like I was a piece of furniture or a seat in a car!

So, now what do I do? Well, I have to make a plan. I refuse to be taken in any more. I refuse to be a Sean. Question is... do I stay with the player or just flat out break up with him? I don't know. Maybe I'll sleep on that.

Erin

P.S. Except I'm afraid he touched my heart.

I turn off my computer and head off to bed, heartsore and resigned.

# Chapter 11: A Puddle

Again, I'm up with the sun. I couldn't help but want to get up -- everything looks so beautiful this morning. I simply can't stay inside, so I take my cup of coffee and go sit outside behind my house.

I need to buy a laptop. That would be great to sit outside in all this beauty and write. However, I'm not made of money. My little cushion I have isn't going to last forever, and I'd better be very careful, especially with the miniscule amount of actual writing I've done lately. Ideas, sure, I've got ideas, but I haven't typed anything up since that day I first met Bryce.

Bryce.

What on earth am I going to do? I'd stayed up a little later last night, thinking. I. Don't. Want. To. Break. Up. With. Him. Plain and simple. I really like him, I mean, _really_ like him. But... what's going to happen when this first week is over? Is he going to drop me?

_Shit. Erin, just remember his sister's reaction._ I take a deep breath and focus on that. _Pamela looked so happy for him. She said she'd been waiting a long time for Bryce to introduce someone as his girlfriend, telling me that he never introduced, if at all, all those other 'girls of the week' as a girlfriend. Then there were all those girls Pamela herself set him up with because I'm assuming the waitress wasn't the only one._

_Oh..._ I think as pain and fear pierce my heart. _I'm in danger._

I'm in very great danger of falling in love. This is too soon after Sean.

Well, it's been three months. Is that long enough?

Regardless, Bryce is probably not the kind of person a girl needs to fall in love with. -- I just ended a sentence in a preposition. Screw it. Bryce is not the kind of person with which a girl need fall in love. That sounds ridiculous. At any rate, the sentence, no matter how it's constructed, is a true one.

I decide what I'm going to do. I'm going to stay with Bryce, but be _very careful_. I like him. I like being around him. _Ugh. It may be too late._

I pick my coffee cup up off the ground from where I put it earlier and go inside to actually write some. I have a good run with it. That whole idea of someone else liking him really works. Still, I think this plot needs a few more strings in the web. They'll come to me.

I hear a knock from behind me and see Bryce peering at me through the little window in my door. I smile a little, hold up one finger, and turn back around to turn my computer off. It wouldn't do for him to read any of this.

I open the door to him smiling at me. He's wearing those sunglasses again and a Bon Jovi t-shirt.

"Hey," I say simply. Something about his smile this morning gives me butterflies in my stomach.

Without warning, he scoops me up in his arms and holds me to him as he says, "Hey, beautiful." Then I'm treated to another of his fabulous kisses as he lifts me a little and kicks the door closed behind him while walking the rest of the way into the house. I've heard of girls getting swept off their feet, but I've never thought of it in an actual way. That thought makes me start giggling through the kiss.

He pulls back and looks at me with a mildly happy yet confused expression as he asks, "What?"

Those sunglasses make me self-conscious since I can see myself in them, so I look down at that little space between his shoulder blades as I say, "You came in here and literally swept me off my feet." I look back up and see myself smiling at him.

He smiles back and says, "So I did." He kisses me again with a little less intensity this time before he pulls back to say, "Let's get out of here."

"And do what?" I ask.

He shrugs and says, "I don't know exactly. Let's just go."

He eventually decides to take me to this overlook park. It doesn't really matter to me where we go, I tell him, I just like to be outside.

His car is Really. Nice. It's kind of a shame the park is so close. We could've walked, but it's kind of fun to ride in this car. Yes, I'm a sucker for a nice car, contrary to the way I tried to scoff at it yesterday. There, I admitted it. Stereotypical blonde drooling over a hot guy with a nice car... Geez, sometimes I am so simple-minded.

Around the lagoon in the middle of the island are a few small hills with a mostly-inactive volcano being one of them. On one of the taller ones, the tourist department built a small park with platforms at different heights that, most of them anyway, you have to climb a buttload of stairs to get to the top.

"Pretty," I say, sounding a bit like an airhead once we've parked and gotten out of the car. Maybe the airheaded-ness is a residual effect from the car. I quietly huff in mild annoyance at myself and get immediately drawn to this pretty, little bridge going over a little bit of water. I mean a little bit. A puddle. Such a small bit that it would be easy to just walk around it. But did they leave it at that? No. They built a pretty, little bridge. It's kind of romantic-looking actually, so I'm not saying I don't like it.

I'm also drawn to the bridge as an escape because I can sense this intensity coming off Bryce in almost visible waves. Something is on his mind, and I can't decide if I want to ask him about it or not. I hear him walking up the few stairs that lead up to the bridge to me, and I decide to lean on the railing to look at the water lilies with 'what are you thinking about?' on the tip of my tongue.

He leans on the railing next to me and asks, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why do you ask?"

He makes a gesture with his hands going palm up for a second and then back down, kind of a shrug for hands. "I mean about yesterday late afternoon. Jesse," he says and clarifies.

"Oh," I say, still not looking at Bryce. "I still don't know what to think yet... other than I'm pissed off at him."

"I wish his damn phone hadn't gone to voicemail every time I called him yesterday," he says ruefully. "I'd wanted to tell him... to tell him about us before he did something stupid. Fail."

I make an observation. "You sound like you're not mad at him."

He runs his hands through his hair after he pushes off from the wall, scratches the back of his neck, and looks at me for a minute. I wonder to myself if he has any idea how hot he looks doing that.

I wish I could read his eyes as he says, "I'm not really. I can bet you he's mad at _me_ , but I'm not mad at him. It's strange, I know."

I push off from the wall as well and stand here in front of him. I can't look at my reflection in his glasses, so I look down at the wooden bridge beneath my feet. "Bryce, I don't want to come between the two of you," I say quietly, worried about what he'll make of that.

He lets out a huff and says, "It's not like this is the first time this has happened."

"Yes, you said that. But they all went home. I'm not leaving."

All of a sudden, his hands fly up to either side of my face as he says, "I _know_! And do you have _any_ idea how wonderful that is?" I get the impression he's almost wanting to shake some sense into me.

I didn't think about how what I said would affect him. Leaving. I'm not leaving. That was a really nice thing for me to say.

Okay, now I'm glad for those sunglasses he's wearing. They're probably sparing me from a very intense stare, as I can guess he's thinking that 'stare at me all day long' thing he mentioned the other night. He takes a deep breath like he's going to say something, but he lets it out and doesn't say whatever it is.

What were we talking about? Oh yeah.

"I'll hate myself if I come between best friends," I reiterate.

"Too late, Erin, and don't hate yourself," he says, his hands still on either side of my face like they're glued there. It's very hard to maintain my composure under this way he stares at me, even with the sunglasses. He brushes his thumbs on my cheekbones, and I have to close my eyes.

"The whole situation is so familiar in a frightening way."

"I know," he says comfortingly. "But this time it won't end like the last time. I guess you could say Jesse and I have had a lot of practice at this."

It just spills out of me -- "He kissed me." My eyes fly open in shock that I'd said what I'd said. I mean, I needed to tell him, but that wasn't the best way of doing it.

I can't see his eyes, but I do see his jaw clench.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you like that."

"Before or after you told him we were dating?" he asks in a clipped tone.

_Oh crap._ "After," I say in a small voice. He exhales roughly through his nose and drops his hands from my face. I feel terrible and a little bit scared. He turns away from me and runs his hands through his hair. His whole posture displays his anger. I quickly walk down the remainder of the bridge and descend the stairs to the ground. I'll walk home if I need to.

"Erin!" he calls after me.

I quicken my pace, but he catches up with me in no time flat. His hands pull on my shoulders gently, and I stop. I may as well.

"Where are you going?" he asks, sounding worried.

"I thought I might just let you be angry." _I was escaping._ "You see! This is why this won't work from the get-go."

"What!?" he exclaims. "So I got a little mad finding out my best friend kissed my girlfriend. That's between me and him, and you don't need to worry about it. I mean, you threw a picture at him so that tells me you were mad. Now I finally know why you got that mad."

"But Bryce, for a split-second I thought about kissing him back. Then I got horrified at myself."

He actually chuckles quietly. _Huh?_ "It's not easy to _not_ kiss someone back when they're kissing you." He rests his slightly-scruffy chin on the back of my shoulders and wraps his arms around my waist. I can almost _feel_ him smile as he says, "The point is you didn't. And even if you had, I'd still only be mad at him if I'm mad at anyone."

I groan in exasperation.

"What?" he asks, obviously confused by my groan.

"I don't _want_ you to be mad at him. I don't _want_ him to be mad at you."

I feel him shrug behind me before he says, "It won't last long."

"But..." I start to say, but I stop when he moves.

He unwraps his arms, takes a step back and takes my hand. Then he pulls me behind him as we head over to some lounge chairs.

"What is it?" I ask as I bounce along behind him very similar to the way I did heading to the scooter to go meet Adele yesterday.

"We ... are going to sit down and hash this out."

He sits down on one of the lounge chairs, and I head for the one next to it.

"No..." he says in an admonishing manner. "Sit here with me please. Okay?" He gently pulls me to him. So, I sit down in front of him as he arranges himself behind me and pulls me close. This is good that I'm sitting down. It's these little things that are going to get me.

I am So. Happy. right now. I don't really know what it is. I'm about to have a serious talk with my new boyfriend, and I'm ecstatically happy. I need to be feeling all serious and stuff, but I just can't manage to do it. Here I sit/lie in the arms of Mr. Hot Island-man... well I guess I'm between his legs too but I don't need to go there right now... totally forgetting whatever awful thing that happened to make me want to move here. I close my eyes and lean back against his shoulder, and I wonder if he's looking down my dress. Oh well, so what if he is?

Bryce acts like he's choosing his words carefully as he says, "I... don't ... care... if Jesse's mad at me. I know him. He never stays mad at anyone for long. He's very easy to be around, and that's why he's my best friend."

Well, that made me start feeling serious. "But..." I finally am going to get to say what I tried to say a minute ago, "... I'm not just going to 'go away.' What's going to happen now?"

"I have no idea," he answers truthfully. He doesn't try to lie I've realized. That was obvious last night. I like that. He continues, "I just know that I'm not about to let you... what was it you said? ... let you think that this is going to fail from the get-go." He exhales in a huff again, but this time it's like someone has punched him in the gut. "Just please don't push me away. You let me worry about Jesse."

"But now it's going to be all weird around him and stuff," I point out.

"Yeah, probably. At first. But he's still my best friend."

"Some friend."

We're quiet for a minute before he asks, "Erin, will you tell me what happened with you? With Sean. That's the bastard's name right? Why do you keep mentioning that you think you're ruining a friendship?"

I feel myself involuntarily stiffen up. I don't like thinking about that day.

"I wouldn't ask except to help me understand how whatever happened yesterday affects you. Remember? I said I'd help," he says.

_I don't want to think about Sean right now. This moment is so wonderful that I don't want to sour it with memories of that day. Still, he_ is _trying to help. He really ... he really wants to know. He actually cares._ A shuddering breath escapes me as I'm overwhelmed with too many emotions.

"It's okay," he says. "You don't have to tell me if you don't really want to."

_Sounds like what I said_ , I think as I prepare myself for the story.

"You know what? I was supposed to get married this month. We'd even ordered the invitations. Didn't get a refund on those."

"You hadn't sent them out yet? When did this happen?" he asks, and I see out of the corner of my eye him turn to look at me.

"About three months ago," I answer. "It took a couple of months to sell our house. I couldn't leave until I had the money, so I lived at my mom's for a while. She's the only one who knows where I am."

"What!" he exclaims. "Why?"

"I don't want to be found," I explain. Then, before he can ask another question, I say, "I walked in on them in the act. It wasn't just what they were doing but also what they were saying." _They were a hell of a lot more compatible I guess._ "I can't repeat those things right now. But there, in front of me were the two people that mattered most to me... betraying me." I take a deep breath. "Um, Meredith and I had a similar situation you and Jesse have. We have the same taste. We got in fights sometimes in high school, but we still stayed friends through it all. I should've seen the writing on the wall, but I thought that my being engaged to him meant he was completely, absolutely, unquestionably off limits to her. Guess she disagreed."

He's quiet for a while, I guess processing everything I told him. I'm so comfortable right now I could easily fall asleep. I just want to curl up into a ball and lay my head on his chest, but I don't because I like the way he's running his hand up and down my arm. I don't want that to stop.

"What did he do when he saw that you'd walked in on them?" he asks me through my sleepy state.

"What do you think? He went into a desperate apology, but I wasn't going to have it. The asshole didn't want to break up. I had to almost take him to court over selling that house until he finally gave in. He acted all broken and stuff. Oh, but Meredith was there to put him back together. She happily took that on with a smug expression on her face. She got what she wanted."

"So," he says, "for over two months you had to live in that town with the two of them close by."

"Yes."

"And you say you don't want to be found."

"Yes," I answer. He's quiet again. I don't know if I want to know what's going on in his head.

His arms wrap around my waist, and he starts kissing me behind my ear. It's nice. I swear, if he keeps this up, all this that he's doing, I'm going to be nothing but a puddle and he's going to have to come mop me up and carry me home in a bucket.

I turn my head a little. In a minute, I'm about to flip myself over, but he distracts me by talking.

"The situation we're in right now, my beautiful Erin, is nothing like what happened then."

Yep, a puddle.

"It is," I argue.

"No. It isn't." He leans over and kisses me near my mouth. "You were _engaged_. She'd been your best friend since you were _six years old_. That kind of betrayal runs deeper."

I get quiet as I think about what he said. He's right. Somehow, I know he's right. I relax with this knowledge, and I'm again happy that I seemed to have found the perfect person to help me. Well, perfect for more than that, but still. And oh, the way he's acting right now...

I reach up and take his sunglasses off him before gently laying them on the concrete at our feet. As I sit back up from putting them down, the look in his eyes stops me in my tracks. I was about to lie back against his chest again, but instead, he sits up and kisses me, not even caring that the park is starting to fill with tourists.

# Chapter 12: I Burn Water

### Lynne Harris

The elementary school is hosting a bake sale, and I've signed up to bake cupcakes for them. I go to preheat my oven and nothing happens but a strange popping noise then it refuses to preheat. Why does this always have to happen to me? Aggravated, I call on my favorite Mr. Fix-It.

"Thank God you're here, Troy. I'm _never_ going to finish all this in time!" I say, my voice showing my exasperation with my crappy appliances.

Troy smiles, showing his teeth the tiniest bit as the bright afternoon sun shines through the dark curls on his head. I don't know what he finds so funny. I give him a 'what?' look with my arms spread out, wordlessly asking him. He clears his throat and straightens up his expression. Now I feel guilty as I quietly lead him to the kitchen.

I motion to my worthless oven and say, "I just don't get it. You just fixed it two weeks ago!"

"Yeah, and if I remember correctly, I recommended you trash the thing and get a new one. That antique is past its expiration date," he says calmly from behind me.

I turn around to him and bring up my old argument, "But it matches!"

"Avocado green?" he asks with a touch of disbelief in his voice. "I'm no expert, but I think that color went out of fashion at least thirty years ago."

I fold my arms defensively and say, "Well, they've worked for this long. They can just keep on working. Besides, I _abhor_ shopping for appliances." I shudder as I think about the time I had to buy a new washer and dryer set. Don't get me wrong, they're great, energy efficient machines, but the salesman drove me nuts! If I ever did that with any of my customers at the spa, I'd run them off! I felt like _I_ needed a massage after the stress of that high-pressure sale.

"Then just take me with you when you go," he says, scratches his head, and opens the oven door to have a look inside. He asks, "So what happened?"

I explain to him about the popping noise and it not heating up. He leans over to look at something again.

"Lynne, it sounds like the heating element. It'd just be easier to go buy a new oven than try to find a replacement part. Just might cost the same too." He chuckles.

"You're joking about the cost."

He looks up at me from where he squats next to the oven door and smiles that impish little schoolboy smile up at me. He's joking; he has to be.

"Maybe," he says and continues to grin.

I fold my arms, irritated to the core and doing my best to hide it. "What am I supposed to do for getting ready for the bake sale? Pamela's busy, Ginger and Belinda's kitchens are way too tiny." I rub the back of my neck as I walk over to the other side of the kitchen. "Why do I sign up to do this every year? Ashley got me started on it, and I've done it ever since. They know I won't say no."

He turns around as I hop up on the counter, and he asks, "So what am I? Chopped liver? I have an oven."

"I'd hate to impose."

He laughs a little. "It's not an imposition. I hardly use the thing as it is. I live off of microwave food and take out."

I wave my hand and say, "No, don't worry about it. I'll just tell Pam I can't do it this year." _Although now I have no idea where they're going to get all those cupcakes from. I guess they'll have a bake sale with no cupcakes._

"Lynne, honestly, it's no big deal. My kitchen isn't as big as this one, but it's not bad, and I'll get out of the way if you want. Go ahead and come by later this afternoon."

I look at him with a teasing smile on my face as I say, "You mean you'll turn me loose in your kitchen unsupervised?"

His eyebrows raise as he asks, "Do I _need_ to worry about you being unsupervised?"

"Nah, I don't know what I mean. Thanks, but I won't run you off. I could use a hand if you don't mind."

"Were you not listening to me a minute ago? I said I eat microwave food and take out because I can't cook."

"Oh, surely you're not that bad. Besides, I'll just order you around anyway." It's my turn to grin.

"I don't know if you'll want my help, but I can try. I'm telling you... I burn water."

I can't help it; I crack up laughing from the look on his face and what he said. Troy is great for this. It takes a lot to get me stressed out, but when I do, he can always put things back into perspective for me effortlessly. _Water... that reminds me._

"Oh, hey, that reminds me. Since you're here..." I look up at him questioningly. "Could you take a look at my bathtub? It's started dripping constantly, and it's irritating me at night."

"Sure. You mean the one up in your, um, bedroom, right?" he asks and looks at the floor.

"Yeah. Some nights it's gotten on my nerves so bad I'll sleep in the guest bedroom," I say.

"Then why haven't you called me sooner?" he asks.

"Because I usually don't think of it until I go to bed, and by that time it's too late. Then in the morning I'm so busy that it's forgotten once again."

He stretches a little and says, "I guess I could go see what's wrong."

He heads up the stairs. I don't want to get in the way, so I pull a book off the shelf.

Sitting in one of the armchairs in my living area, I think about Troy. He's a really sweet guy. I don't know what he had scheduled to do today, but he must've canceled it right away when I called. It's not like I'll pay him any more or less than anyone else. I've tried. He won't let me, and he says he feels bad taking my money being my friend and all. Last time, I had to literally shove the check in his pocket to get him to take it. He has bills to pay too!

It's not fair how the cards are dealt in life. His mom is in an assisted living facility after having a massive stroke a few years ago, and he never knew his father. Apparently, he was just some rich tourist that seduced his mom and left her pregnant, never to be seen again.

I hear a loud yell and what sounds like a wrench being dropped on the floor. Immediately, I get up to go see what happened.

By the time I get up here, I can't see that anything is wrong. "Are you okay?" I ask.

Startled, he turns around to look at me. "What? Oh. Yeah, I'm fine. A scorpion crawled out of the drain. I hate those damn things. It startled me before I had a chance to kill it."

I shudder a little. I don't like them either, and I hate that Scorpio is my sign. "Did it sting you?"

He looks back up at me, obviously distracted, and says, "Huh? Oh. No, I'm fine." He wipes his hands on a cloth from his pocket and looks up at me again. "A washer needed replacing. It's fixed."

"Thanks," I say. "You're amazing. Whatever would I do without you?" I smile at him.

He smiles back that little imp smile and responds, "That's what they all tell me."

"So, what do I owe you?" I ask and watch the smile leave his face to be replaced with a look of mild annoyance.

"Lynne, how many times do I have to tell you this? Nothing. I'm glad to help."

I had a feeling this would happen again, so I wrote a check out in advance and put it in my back pocket. "You have bills to pay too, how much?" I ask again.

He puts his hands up as if to ward me off and says, "I'm fine with all that. Keep your money. I don't feel right taking it from you."

_This argument again?_ I roll my eyes, pull the check out of my pocket, and try to hand it to him. "Take the damn money, Troy. I know you had to cancel working for someone else just to come help me today. Don't make me feel bad by not letting me pay you." I try to guilt him.

He refuses to take the check out of my hand, and I wonder what I'm going to have to do to give him the money this time. He's watching me warily to make sure I don't stick it in his pockets as he tries to skirt around me. I'm really getting sick of this game.

Then I get an idea.

I reach my hand holding the check out and stop him as I step closer. Then, before he can react, I stick the check in the front pocket of his overalls just before I kiss him on the cheek. He goes stock still in shock. _Gotcha,_ I think as I back away, the check successfully having made its way into his possession.

His head snaps over to look at me with loads of surprise written on his face as I stand here with a smug smile. Then I feel mildly uncomfortable as I think, _Um... Did that actually mean something to him?_ Now, I watch him look at me with a look of curious amazement. The atmosphere around us gets suddenly full of this static electrical charge, and I can't help but think of 'water and electricity don't mix' since we're standing in a bathroom.

Quickly dispelling this charge in the air, I say, "Take the money, Troy." Then I turn and steadily walk out of the bathroom and head back downstairs, being very careful as I descend my spiral staircase because my head is spinning a little.

I hear him coming down the stairs after me as I stand in my entryway, wringing my hands. _Oh, please don't make that make things weird._

"Hey, Lynne," he says, and I turn around, feeling uncomfortable. He pulls the check out of his pocket. "I'm not taking this." He tries to hand it back to me, and I evade his attempts to put it in my hand. It's kind of funny how he keeps trying and I keep moving my hands out of the way. I find myself laughing after a minute or so. _He did it again._

He sighs with mock exasperation and says, "Fine. But you can't make me cash it."

"Troy..." I say in warning. "Next time I'll be sure to make it cash." Then I look up at him and see he has one eyebrow raised.

He chuckles at my wary expression and says, "Oh, alright, but just so you know I don't agree with it. I'll see you later this afternoon, okay?" Then he pulls me into a friendly hug after I agree. Well, I _think_ it's friendly. I hear the check crinkle in his hand as he holds me a little tighter than normal... and for a little longer too.

When he pulls back, he surprises me when I find his lips on mine. The kiss only lasts about a second and a half, just long enough for him to put the check back into my pants pocket. Then he pulls back, laughs triumphantly, and kisses me quickly once more before he dashes out the door.

I stand here in quiet shock as I think, _What just happened?_

#  Chapter 13: Answer in the Form of a Question

### Ginger Stephensen

I get up about 5:30 every morning, make a cup of coffee, and go sit in the rocking chair on my front porch. I love the peacefulness before the world wakes up as I watch the waves roll in. It's just nature and me.

One problem I have is that my coffee gets cold before I finish it because I get caught up in my thoughts. My job as a librarian can get pretty boring sometimes, so I frequently let my mind wander into fantasyland. The problem is coming back out of it.

I'm happy to be going to The Flamingo again tonight. Bryce is so cool for owning a bar and putting up with all of us showing up all the time, even if it's not a 'party.'

I think about the last one. _Desmond looked so silly in that outfit._

_Actually, he looked kinda hot too._ I stop rocking. _Don't go there._

I can't help but sigh.

I wonder how Bryce and that girl are doing? Pam said she came to dinner last night. That's a good sign. I wonder what her story is. Everybody has a story.

With another sigh, I stand up to go get my butt to work.

At work, I have to immediately get busy cleaning up the mess that some kids had made of the kid section. That wasn't very nice of Annika to do that -- to close up and leave that mess. I'll have to find some way to secretly get back at her.

When I finish that, I get another cup of coffee from our small coffeemaker in the break room and head over to check back in the returns. I have to pause doing that because my phone rings. _Desmond! ...?_

"Hey, Desmond, what's up?" I ask into the phone. He only calls me when he needs something.

"I need you to do me a favor," he says.

_Big surprise_ , I think as I listen to him ask me to bring some reference book he needs for a case he's working on. I don't bother asking what it is (I have in the past) because he won't tell me anyway.

"Sure, I can do that. When do you need it?" I ask and think, _Probably now._

"As soon as you can, please." He says 'please' like he has his mother standing above him wagging her finger and forcing him to be polite. He must have a client in the office with him.

"Sure thing," I say in an overly-sweet voice just to get on his nerves. "Oh, and Desmond..." He hangs up. Jerk.

Ages ago, we worked it out so that Desmond could check out books without actually coming to the library. So, I abandon Annika to run the place solo for a while while I hand deliver the book to his office. I don't know why he just doesn't _buy_ a copy of all these books he needs. What would he do if someone already had it checked out? He could put another bookshelf into that law office no sweat. Still, I do as requested and walk up to the building.

His office used to be a house, but he bought it and converted it. I guess that works for him.

His secretary/receptionist, Patricia, just smiles and waves me along while talking on the phone when I enter the waiting room. So, I knock on the door to his office.

"Come in," he says.

He always looks so intimidating sitting behind his desk like he's doing right now. He looks like he's in a sour mood as well. Nothing new there. He barely glances in my direction as I walk in and lay the book on his desk. He wordlessly picks it up and places it on top of a short stack of books off to the side.

"If you didn't need it right away, why did you ask me to hurry up and bring it?" I ask, irritated he didn't immediately crack it open to glean the knowledge he needed.

"Because I thought I needed it right away. Now I think I have a different idea of how to approach this," he says, and I get irritated some more that he's being so cryptic. I almost think he's being this way on purpose just to get on my nerves. "I might need another book if you don't mind." He stares out the window to his left, completely ignoring me, lost in his thoughts.

I decide to interrupt those thoughts. "Then send Patricia by to pick it up," I say and head for the door. "I'm not your gopher."

"But if I do that, I wouldn't get to see your pretty, smiling face," he says sardonically with his hazel green eyes regarding me belligerently. He's the only person I know that can take a compliment and make it sound like an insult.

I turn back around, fold my arms, and refuse to look at him as I say, "I had to leave work, my _job_ , to hand deliver that book to you without so much as a thank you. Now you're starting to think that I need to run back and get yet another one for you! Why do you even _have_ Patricia?"

"She's busy doing other things," he says.

What things? Do I even want to know? Wait, Patricia is seeing that guy that owns the diner.

Forcing my mind to get back to the present moment, I say, "So. You think I'm just the bored librarian sitting around with nothing to do so let's give her something to do and help me in the process?"

"Yes," he answers simply, waiting to see how I'll react.

I'm incensed. "I'm not your gopher, Desmond. Why not hire one of those if you need all these errands done?"

"Looking for another job?" he asks me, his voice curiously a little lower. "After all, you said you were bored."

" _You_ said I was bored."

"No I didn't."

"Yes, you did! You said you agreed with me when I talked about how you thought I was just a bored librarian sitting around with nothing to do," I argue.

"But the words came out of _your_ mouth. I didn't say them," he says calmly.

I roll my eyes and say, "A technicality."

"So you're not interested." He states the question.

"Absolutely not. I like my job."

"But you said you were bored."

"I did not!" I say, my voice getting higher in pitch.

I can tell he's trying not to smile. _Oooo he makes me so mad!_

"What were you doing when I called?" he asks, serious once again.

I look at him evenly now and answer, "Checking in the dropped off books." I refuse to think how sometimes my job _is_ boring. I can't let him win.

"Thrilling."

"I like organizing them afterwards," I say lamely.

"Whatever," he says, obviously bored with the conversation now.

I actually like bringing these books to him, but I'll never let _him_ know that. It breaks up the monotony... even if he successfully pisses me off in one way or another every time.

My voice is laced with sarcasm as I momentarily act like an employee and say, "Will that be all, Mr. Lumpkin?"

I watch his jaw clench for a second, probably in anger, before he says, "Yes." Then he picks up the book I brought him and opens it to the table of contents. I grab the doorknob and swing it open real fast as I spin around. Just before I slam it closed, I hear him say "Thank you" in a voice that sounds like he's trying not to laugh.

After work, I head home real quick to change into something else that I wouldn't feel right wearing to work. Then I head off to Bryce's bar.

I see that Desmond is already here when I arrive. I guess that makes sense since his office is right next door.

I don't get to take three steps once I climb up the few stairs before he walks right up to me.

"You changed," he says after looking me up and down real fast.

"Don't you know guys aren't supposed to notice that?" I accuse him, almost teasing, almost irritated.

"Oh, right. Fine. I'll go back to pretending I don't notice," he says with a look of mild annoyance.

I turn around a little and see Erin has arrived and that Bryce is talking to her.

I'm determined to steal her from Bryce for a little bit.

"Hey Erin!" I exclaim, probably a little too enthusiastically. I can't help it. I just _know_ we'd make great friends. "Oh, hey Bryce," I say, probably a little too casually.

"Hi," she says simply and somewhat quietly. I figured out last time that she's a little shy. However, I'm not about to let her get away with being shy tonight.

I'm not really sure what's coming out of my mouth as I start jabbering away. Sometimes, I get like this. At least I convince her to head over and sit down somewhere so we can talk.

"So, tell me why you moved here," I request straight away. I feel like getting directly to the point.

"Um, I was engaged, but I broke it off. Things just didn't work out," she says slowly.

"Wow. That must've been rough to make you want to move somewhere completely new," I say in what I hope is an understanding kind of voice.

"I like that I'm getting a fresh start. And if I'm going to choose somewhere new anyway, why not this beautiful place?" she says and brightens visibly.

I can't help but smile back as I say, "You did pick a good one for a fresh start! And what a great fresh start with a new boyfriend and everything. I hope things work out between the two of you. I've lived here three years, and I've never seen Bryce with a serious girlfriend."

I smile and watch her expression fall. _Oh no. Me and my big mouth._ I blush when I realize how that sounded -- that Bryce is a ladies' man. _Uh... um... Oh crap!_ I speak really quickly again as I blurt out, "That's not saying he doesn't know _how_ to be serious. It's just... well, ever since his ex-wife left him I've heard that he tried to deal with it by not being serious with anyone. You know, so he wouldn't get hurt. I wonder if he even knows how easy he is to read. It's the only Bryce I've known, but Pamela told me how he used to be, and even _I_ can tell that there's something different about him with you."

I take a few deep breaths. _I think I fixed that okay._ "I'm so excited because sometimes I'd catch him looking really, really sad, and I don't want him to be that way anymore." I work at controlling my anxiety that I just did an open mouth insert foot. My mother used to say 'a closed mouth gathers no foot,' but she never could keep her mouth shut either. That's probably why she ended up convicted of killing Daddy. She blabbed on the stand. Well, I've got her gift of gab. I don't plan on killing anybody though, so other than being an ass like just now, it's something I can live with.

"I'm happy he has friends that care so much for him, and you're right. I'll bet he doesn't know he's easy to read. However, I'm still learning so he's not so easy for me," she says, acting like she understands that I couldn't control my outburst. I'll bet she already knew all that that I told her anyway. Oh yeah that's right, Pam told me he told her.

I take another deep breath, glad I didn't just screw up royally.

Suddenly, I notice Desmond has walked up right beside me. _What is his deal today? Leave me alone._

He speaks: "Hey Ginger, want to dance?"

_Why do people ask me to dance all the time? I mean everybody._ The everybody makes me think of Jesse, and I wonder where he is tonight. I agree to dance with Desmond. I like to dance after all. Besides, Erin has this look like she needs to recover from me or something.

I almost trip when I see Desmond smiling a real smile. I can count the number of times on one hand that I've seen this. Usually he wears a look of disdain or a cynical expression.

"What is it?" he asks, probably wondering why I'm looking at him like he's grown another head or something.

"Nothing," I answer because I'm not able to tell him what I'm thinking. It would just piss him off anyway.

The smile leaves his face, and I'm a little sad to see it go. It looks like it's gotten replaced with a look of contempt as he says, "Fine, don't tell me then."

Baited, I snap, "Okay. I was just surprised you were actually smiling." _So there!_

He gives me a mild glare. "I smile. Sometimes. ... When there's a reason to."

"Then you need to find more reasons," I blurt out. For the briefest of seconds I can see what I said hurt him a little.

"Then what would you suggest, oh girl that smiles probably too much?" he grumbles.

I snap my head to his face and stop dancing to say, "How can a person smile too much? So what if things make me happy?"

"Why do you never give a direct answer?! You answered my question with a question," he snaps, and I realize I've already forgotten his question.

Then I remember. "How should I know? You're the only you, and only you can really know what would make you smile. I'm just saying you should do it more." I get in his face and say, "How's that for a direct answer? Happy now?!"

"No, because you still threw in questions at the beginning and end," he growls.

"Sorry if I'm trying to figure out what you mean." I groan in exasperation and stomp on his toe, hard.

"Ow," he says in an irritated way.

"Sorry," I mumble and look away. "I'm going to go take a walk for a minute," I say all of a sudden and head out the back staircase towards the lagoon.

As I approach the water, my mind whirls in anger. _How does he_ do _that? How does he always find a way to piss me off? Why does he have to be such an ass? I wasn't accusing him of never smiling. I just said he needed to do it more. He has a nice smile, and he should show it more. What is his_ problem _anyway? And why am I letting him get to me again?_

Sometimes I think he pisses me off on purpose. If he doesn't, then he has a real talent for it.

Behind me, I hear the voice of my tormentor, and I turn around as he starts griping at me.

"Why do you always do that? Do you hate me so much that merely talking to me sets you off?" he asks in as hurt a tone as I suppose he can have.

"Why would you think I hate you? You just piss me off is all. I was _trying_ to tell you you should smile more."

He rolls his eyes. "I smile plenty!" he throws at me in a very defensive tone.

"When? You're like Grumpy in Snow White."

"Oh gee, thanks, Ginger," he snarls. "You see?! There you go again!"

"There I go what again? _You're_ the one that's jumping down _my_ throat." He's not making any sense, and I'm having trouble figuring out what exactly he's talking about. He really is a grump. I have no idea why we keep him around. I guess it's because he just keeps showing up and most of us are too nice to tell him to buzz off.

"You get along with everybody. What is it about me that sets you off?! So I'm not as happy as some people. It's not like I'm trying to dump my problems on everyone! Then you telling me I should smile more?"

I hold my hands up in surrender. "I try to get along with you, but then you wind up griping about something or other that just pisses me off." I take a breath. "You know what? I give up. I'm sorry I accused you of not smiling." _But you have to admit it's true._ "I just thought I'd try to help."

"You think I look like I need help? Have I _asked_ for help?"

"Yes, you did actually. You asked me what would I suggest." _That sounds like asking for help to me._

"Then you proceeded to answer the question with another fucking question."

"You want a straight answer?" I ask, realizing I just answered with a question again. He looks like he's ready to scream in frustration. "I kinda gave you one already. Only you can do that. You have to find something that means something to you. You can't go around acting like nothing matters all the time. Nobody likes being around you when you're like that," I say and watch the blank, uncaring face he wears get put back on.

"Nice," he says in an even tone. "You think nothing matters to me."

"I said that's how you _acted_. You never look at anything without finding a flaw, and if it doesn't have one, then you immediately dismiss it and say it's false. What am I supposed to think?" I take a breath and continue, "I guess that may make you a great lawyer, but it makes you a terrible friend."

"Alright. Fine. I guess I'll just go home now then," he says stiffly and walks in the direction of his office and, I guess, his car.

I feel terrible for what I said as I make my way back to the bar and claim an empty stool.

_He just makes me so mad! Everything I said was true, but I did it again. I pulled an 'open mouth, insert foot' again,_ I think as I try to make sense of that crazy argument we just had.

The bartender that everyone simply calls Jones asks me if he can get me anything. I decide on a little comfort food and order some nachos. My stomach will hate me later, but that's okay. I hate myself too right now.

While Jones fixes up my nachos, I take a look around at my friends and notice they're paired up. Of course, it _is_ just friends that happen to be couples, but I feel left out. I'll have to wait until I get home and call Pam to tell her what happened because she and Simon look to be having fun dancing together. Bryce and Erin are just talking, but from the look on Bryce's face, it doesn't look like a conversation where I can just jump in. Plus, I just don't feel like talking for once.

I am totally bummed out, and it's all Desmond's fault. I let him get to me _again_... twice in one day even. I'm leaving to head home early once I finish these nachos. All of a sudden, I feel like cuddling up on my couch with my teddy bear and watching sappy chick flicks all night.

# Chapter 14: Insecurities

### Bryce

_"The asshole didn't want to break up."_ Erin's words run through my head over and over again. _"I don't want to be found."_ Then I think, _For over two months, she still lived in that town, and now she doesn't want to be found. That tells me one thing - he wants her back._

I sit here on one of the lounge chairs at Overlook Park and imagine how it probably was. Erin saying she doesn't want to be found implies to me that he probably frequently came by her mom's house to try and get her to take him back. I'm really happy she didn't.

Yet, Erin says that Meredith looked smug that she got what she wanted. If Sean was constantly, or even frequently, coming by then Meredith couldn't have been very happy with that. I wonder if Sean and Meredith really got together after all or is that just what Erin thinks?

My insecurities continue to plague me as I hold her tighter. _She is running from him,_ I think as I start kissing her behind her ear. _I don't want her to be found either. She feels way too good in my arms for me to want to let her go._

She's worried it's happening again.

I have to make her understand that _this_ triangle is different. So, we discuss it for a minute. I think I get the point across enough to where she can start to get it.

She noticeably relaxes. She'd gotten tense when I asked her what had happened.

I start kissing her down her jaw and can't help but think two things: One: I am, without a doubt, madly in love with her; Two: I'm very worried Sean is looking for her. It's not impossible to find someone depending on how much he has to spend. A private detective is all it takes in many cases. I wonder how well Erin covered her tracks. I don't like how she'd only told her mom where she'd gone, but I also can't help but feel glad that not everyone knows. It's possible one of them could go and tell Sean. There are just too many possibilities.

She turns around and looks at me, and for some inexplicable reason, she removes my sunglasses. Just like that. She didn't ask. I wonder why as I watch her fold them up and put them gently on the ground under us.

As I watch her, I think, _What_ is _it about her? Sure, she's beautiful, but that's not just it. I really wish I knew._

She stops and sees me looking at her, and I watch as her pupils dilate right before my eyes. I'm unable to resist leaning forward to kiss her before pulling her back so that she rests on top of me. The entire time, I refuse to break the kiss.

In the back of my mind, I notice the park is getting invaded by tourists. I should've known. It's Sunday. This is the Overlook Park. Of course they're going to want to visit here on their first day. Duh.

"Let's get out of here," I murmur to her.

"Good idea," she says quietly back to me. "Where?"

"There's a little-known pond I like to fish at sometimes. There's not anything there but the pond so we probably won't be disturbed," I answer as we both get up. I grab my sunglasses.

On the drive over there, she explains to me that my sunglasses make her self-conscious because she can see herself in them. That's a shame. I like my sunglasses. People can't tell where my eyes are turned when I'm wearing them. Erin might be even _more_ self-conscious if she knew where my eyes go most of the time. I guess she'll find out if she asks me not to wear them. _Her fault then,_ I think and smile to myself as I park the car close to the little trail leading up to the pond.

Erin gets out of the car, throws her arms out, and faces the sky as she takes in a big breath. I must look ridiculous as I stand here and stare at her body move as she starts turning in a circle in the sunlight.

"I love being outside," she explains with a small smile when she sees me looking at her.

"I noticed," I say simply. I'm mesmerized as she undoes her braid because it has started unraveling on his own anyway. She just smiles at me when she sees me staring. I mentally shake my head as we both start for the short path up the hill.

I guess the view from here is nice as well. It's even better at night ... if the bugs don't eat you alive that is. The heavy foliage keeps the wind down, making it easier for the bugs to fly.

I watch her as Erin turns around and looks at the lagoon. She starts asking me about coconuts as she looks at the trees below us. I tell her I used to be able to climb up and get them and that Pam used to laugh at me and call me 'monkey boy' when we were kids. Erin laughs and says she can see that.

"I was always so tempted to throw them at her head just because," I say, and Erin turns to look at me with mild shock on her face. I shrug and explain, "What are little brothers for?" I smile. "A few times I threw them _towards_ her, but not at her. She'd freak out and start yelling at me. That was fun. I'd get in so much trouble when she tattled on me. Didn't stop me from doing it again after a while."

Then she asks about my parents. So, I tell her the story of how they died in a car crash. It was with the money I got when they died that I used to buy the bar and my house. Pam paid her house off and put the rest in savings. I'd rather have my parents back than the money they left us. My mom would've really gotten along great with Adele. She liked to talk incessantly as well, but Mom died when Adele was little.

I feel a little disoriented as I notice how easy it is to tell Erin anything. This realization worries me, and I can't help but feel the whole situation is snowballing out of control. I really need to find out where we are going before it's too late - which it may already be that way. How do I find out without having yet _another_ serious talk though?

She must've noticed something in my expression because she asks, "What is it?"

_Great, now what?!_ I think before I quickly decide to try to get what I need to know out of her by picking up from our previous conversation.

"I'm just concerned why you said you didn't want to be found," I start.

For some reason, she breathes a sigh of relief. Then she says, "Oh, that. Don't be concerned. I don't want... some people ... to try to drag me back." She bites her lip.

Uh huh.

Her eyes widen for a fraction of a second before she tries to clarify, "Like my brother, for instance."

"This is the first I've heard of a brother," I mention. _A brother? An overprotective brother that thinks you shouldn't have broken up with Sean? Why else not tell him where you went?_

She nervously tucks her hair behind her ear as I wait for more of an explanation.

"Well, he wasn't against me breaking it off with him, but he wouldn't think me moving off on my own would be a very good idea. So, I never told him. He's filled my email inbox with messages telling me how irresponsible I am and how I'm putting my safety at risk and all that. Sometimes, I think he thinks _he's_ the older one."

"So, you think if he could he'd try to drag you back home -- for your own safety." I stop and think for a minute. "Well, I guess I can understand that." I feel my brows come together as I try to form the question that I've been building to. I look at the ground and ask, "But he's not the only one, is he? I mean... what about Sean?" My eyes fly back up to her face at her intake of breath.

I continue, "I'm right aren't I? You're worried he's looking for you." I momentarily wonder if I've crossed some line she didn't want to cross. Too bad.

"That idea has occurred to me, yes," she finally answers quietly.

_I knew it,_ I think without any satisfaction.

"Are you really worried about that?" she asks. "I mean, do you honestly think I'd take him back? I don't want to be found because I don't want to be pestered to death." She walks up and wraps her arms around my shoulders. Mine automatically go around her waist.

I get quiet because I can't think of a good way to tell her what I'm thinking. She was _engaged_ to this man. That's quite a history all by itself. Then, the fact that she ran away tells me she was worried that if she stayed she might take him back. The odds are simply too good that he'll find her... eventually. In a small way, I hope he does. I'd like to beat the crap out of him then thank him for sending her here. However, I also can't help but worry, like she said, that if he shows back up on the scene that she'd take him back.

She has 'kiss me' written all over her face, but I force myself to hold back. I can't get pulled into that trap right now because I can't stand it. I have to know.

"Bryce, what's wrong?" she asks me, now with a worried look in those gorgeous eyes of hers.

I suppose she's mirroring my worried look, so I close mine. Okay, so maybe I can't tell her _anything_. I still don't know how to ask this. How do I, this early in the relationship, ask her where she thinks this is going? I am so out of practice with the serious stuff. Also, I admit, I'm a little afraid of the answer I might get. Maybe I shouldn't ask that right now. After all, she said she didn't want to be pestered to death, so I shouldn't bring it up. Yeah, it's just too early. Her answer could change later, after all.

I feel her fingernail graze my lower lip as she quietly says to me, "I wouldn't in a million years take that asshole back, if that's what you're thinking. I wish I knew _what_ you were thinking. Sorry if that's not what you're thinking, but that's the only thing I can guess from what we were talking about." I wonder if she even _knows_ how what she's doing to my lip is affecting me. "Bryce?" she asks, and I open my eyes again.

_Damn it!_ I think as I just give in and kiss her. It's what she wants anyway, isn't it? I mean, isn't this why we chose a more secluded spot? _Yes, nice and secluded and holy shit I want this woman._ I hear myself let out a groan as I re-explore the inside of her mouth. She lets out the tiniest of gasps as the arm I still have around her waist tightens, pressing her up against me. _You bet your ass, Erin, that is_ exactly _what you think it is._ I suppress a chuckle from the shocked and nervous way she's acting. That wouldn't be very nice. So, instead of laughing, my hand moves _to_ that ass to pull her even closer. After all, I don't want to leave a doubt in her pretty little head exactly what it is that I want right now. That, and she has one sweet ass.

I groan again as the hand that was on the back of her neck moves down to her back, and I lift her up a little as I leave her mouth and travel to her collarbone. She sounds like she's hyperventilating. _She's going to ask me to stop... just as soon as she can catch her breath._

"Bryce..." _Yep. I knew it._ "I..."

I don't stop because she hasn't really asked me to yet. I'm too busy with her neck, and I'm going to drag this out as long as possible. _Maybe I can change her mind..._

She continues, "I'm not saying... that I don't want to." _But just not yet._ "But just not yet."

Shit.

Well, at least she stopped me before things could really get out of control.

I find it in me to stop and rest my forehead on her shoulder. I have to close my eyes to keep from looking down her dress as I stand here just breathing, still holding her tightly and listening to her doing the same. Without even thinking, I discover myself kissing her shoulder almost absentmindedly. I only realize it's happening when she sighs and tilts her head to grant me more access. _But she asked me to stop,_ I think as I feel my hands ball up into fists. _It must be that only kissing is okay. Oh, but I don't think I can stop at just that right now._

I let out a frustrated grunt and say, "Then let's go sit down over there." I point to an opening in the bushes where we can look out over stuff. She plops herself down, and I sit down behind her similar to the way we'd sat on the lounge chairs at the park. I'm glad she doesn't complain when I pull her _very_ close up to me.

My mind is suddenly flooded with possibilities as we sit here on the ground like this. _Damn it, and I was trying to be serious for once._ Now I find myself imagining all the things I could try to get away with as I run my hand up and down her arm. _But, for once, I want more than that._

"What are you doing to me, Erin?" I ask before I can check myself. The question slipped out. _She could really take that the wrong way._

She smiles a little smile and obviously tries not to laugh as she answers, "I thought you understood that by now."

I get a little mad as I lightly shake her shoulder and say, "That's not what I meant." I exhale in a huff and rest my forehead on her shoulder again, wanting to whimper for several reasons. _I have to fucking tell her before I go insane from trying to hold back,_ I think, thinking about how I've fallen in love with her. However, I can't seem to find a way to do it because I'm afraid of hearing what she'd say afterwards. If only there was some way I could just _tell_ her and not have to listen to a reply, that'd be great. Without realizing it at first, I start gripping her shoulder tightly and holding her to me so close that I can feel a slight strain in the muscles in my arm.

She squirms, and I realize what I'm doing. I slacken my grip. She says, "Again, I wish I knew what you were thinking. What do you mean by 'that's not what I meant'?"

"I don't know what I meant," I say, taking the chicken-shit way out.

She takes her turn exhaling in a huff and leans back on my shoulder. She's not buying it, but she's also not pushing me either. All the more reason I want to tell her. I realize it's nigh upon impossible she feels the same way, but it doesn't matter. Still, hearing an 'I don't feel the same way' right now would hurt a little. Maybe it _does_ matter. That's why I shouldn't tell her.

I keep this circle of thoughts going around and around in my head as I feel her relax more and more against me. A few times, I wonder if she's gone to sleep; she's so quiet. I wonder if she didn't sleep well last night. _It would be nice to watch her sleep,_ I think as she rests even more against me. I reach up and carefully brush her hair over her shoulder so that I don't wake her -- if she's asleep that is. The bare flesh of her shoulder calls to me, and I can't help but lean down to run my mouth along her flawless skin.

What if I simply tell her while she's asleep? That could work. I would have said it, and I wouldn't have to listen to a response. I could just ... say it.

I haven't said that in years ... other than to Adele and my sister, but that's not the same thing.

I exhale almost painfully, and her eyes pop open, I guess from the force of my breathing. I missed my chance.

She jumps up to a straighter sitting position and says, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Bryce! I didn't sleep well last night. I didn't mean to almost fall asleep! I just got so comfortable..."

I laugh a little at the consternation in her expression and say, "Don't worry about it. Sleep if you want to. Yesterday was a busy day." _Yes, and I shouldn't make a big deal out of today because of it. Give her time to recover. I don't need to tell her right now._ I lightly encourage her to lie back again, and this time she scoots a little forward before she lays herself back.

"But I wish I wasn't so tired. It's just I'm so comfortable and the lack of sleep and stuff that it's hard to keep my eyes open."

"Then sleep. I don't mind, honestly," I say before I rest my chin on her head. "I'm just sitting here thinking anyway." _Whoops. Here comes the 'what are you thinking about' question,_ I think with a wince.

"About stuff you don't want to talk about," she says.

I breathe a sigh of relief before I say, "About stuff I don't know how to say. When I figure that out, I'll let you know. Promise."

"Is it bad?" she asks, obviously feeling insecure.

I laugh quietly a little to hopefully ease the tension and say, "No. It's not bad." _It could be though if I say it wrong._

I feel her start to relax a little again before she complains of a crick forming in her neck. So, we twist around as she lies down on the grass. I lean on my elbow next to her and watch her eyes as she looks up at the treetops, again glad this place isn't well-known.

Not much time passes before she closes her eyes and falls asleep. She looks so beautiful and peaceful that it takes everything I have to keep from kissing her. I'm happy she feels so comfortable around me that she can fall asleep just like that. She worried I'd mind? No. This makes things easier. I can lie here and think without her wondering what I'm thinking.

Okay, Sean. I guess I don't blame you one bit. I don't want to let her go either.

And to think, I've only really known her less than a week.

He was an idiot.

I love you, Erin. ... Just say it, damn it!

Why can't I say it? Why do I feel like I have to?

_I wonder if she's really asleep?_ I run my finger gently along her chin. She smiles a little and makes a cute little 'hm' noise to which I can't help but laugh silently.

Then, she rolls onto her side facing me and nuzzles her head into the area between my shoulder and neck after I wrap both my arms around her. _Oh, this is just too damn perfect._

I wait a little while for her breathing to take up an even rhythm. My heart starts racing, I guess with mild fear, as I lean down and whisper in her ear, "I love you, Erin."

# Chapter 15: Surprise

### Erin

I'm exhausted, and I can't seem to keep my eyes open for the life of me. By some miracle, this doesn't bother Bryce in the least. I don't really understand why, but I'm glad he doesn't mind. I lie here and stare up at the treetops, thinking about how nice it is to feel so comfortable. The green blurs with the blue as what I see blurs in front of me before my eyes close. I am so tired.

I can feel Bryce staring at me, but for once, I don't mind. I'm itching to know what he's thinking about, but the desire to find out isn't enough to occupy my mind and keep me awake. He said he'd tell me anyway when he finally figures out _how_ to say what he's thinking. Of course, this makes me want to know all the more.

I take a deep breath and relax as I think about how happy I am right now.

I feel his fingertip lightly run itself along my jawline, and I can't help but smile. _He's so sweet, and I'm so tired and comfortable._ I have this urge to bury my face into his shoulder, so I decide to do just that as I curl into him. Bless him, he wraps his arms around me lovingly, and I can't fight sleep off any more.

I'm drifting along on a blue cloud in a pink and purple sky. My little cloud is comfortable, and I look around at things as I pass them. There's not a whole lot to look at really. I appear to be out over the ocean somewhere. I stare down at the whitecaps as they reflect the sky, and I find it strange that even though I can see them breaking, I'm so far up that I can't hear the waves. All I hear is wind as I float along.

I look out at the horizon and see a little island coming up, and right away I know it's my new home. I rest my chin on my hands, smiling slightly, as I lie down on my stomach to watch the island getting closer and closer. The water below me gets bluer and bluer as it starts to get more shallow, and pretty soon, it's the color of the cloud on which I ride. In fact, I start to have difficulty knowing where the cloud ends and the water begins. I feel like I might not even have a cloud below me after all, and I'm just floating on nothing but air. _But air can't support me!_ I think frantically. Realizing this, I start to fall, and I grasp at the empty air as I wonder what happened to my cloud. How could it have abandoned me like that?

Luckily, along comes a golden cloud to catch me, safe and sound. Relieved, I flop back against it as I hear it tell me, "I love you, Erin." I smile in happiness as the cloud deposits me near a small pond on the side of a hill.

Strangely, I look down and see myself sleeping in Bryce's arms, and he's smiling this wonderful smile like he's just so happy he can't help it. I see him gently kiss my forehead, and I feel it at the same time.

I open my eyes to see him looking back at me with this slightly guilty yet happy expression on his face.

"Crap, I didn't mean to wake you up," he mumbles. Then he looks worried as he asks, "Were you asleep?"

"Mhm. I had the nicest dream too," I answer sleepily. "Well, a part of it was scary when I was falling but then," I blush as I remember, "I was okay." _That was his voice in my dream. Wishful thinking. Only in my dreams._ I sigh and roll back on my back.

"What was the dream about?" he asks, looking mildly concerned.

I look up at him and debate how I'm going to answer his question. After a pause that probably only felt long to me, I tell him about my dream, but I leave out the part about the cloud talking to me. That would be kind of embarrassing to tell him that... to explain my wishful thinking.

He reaches up and starts running his finger along my jaw again, but I get hold of his hand and stop him. When he looks at me, confused, I explain, "You do that and I'm going to fall asleep again, and I don't want to fall asleep." I look up at the sky and see the sun has moved farther along in the sky than I thought.

"Well, then what do you want to do?" he asks, and I can guess what he's thinking as he looks down at me.

"I don't know. What do you want to do?" I ask simply.

His hand gets free from mine, and he cups my cheek and turns my head to face him. His voice sounds breathy as he answers, "I can think of a few things." Then his lips are on mine.

I get the feeling he's testing me, almost like he's asking 'Is this okay?' as he kisses me tenderly. I guess he acts like this because of how I was earlier. I'd started to panic. I'm just not ready for the level of intimacy that he obviously wanted what I guess was a few hours ago. He's not acting like that now. No, he acts like he has all the time in the world to leisurely enjoy the feel of my lips on his as he repeatedly plants slow kisses upon my mouth. I quickly want him to do more than this sweet, but almost chaste, kissing. _Give me your tongue, damn it!_ I think, mildly shocked at my aggression.

I shudder with suppressed lust as he traces the outline of my lips with his tongue with achingly slow tenderness. Frustrated now, I get a fistful of hair in each hand and pull him closer. With a low groan from the back of his throat, he finally deepens the kiss. I'd begun to wonder if I was going to have to beg. One of his legs works its way between mine as he rolls on top of me, and a hand comes up to cradle the back of my head. I guess he thinks the ground is too hard for me. I don't mind the ground, but again, it's these little things that get me.

As he kisses me, I let my hands wander -- something I've been dying to do but didn't feel brave enough until this moment. I notice the fabric of his shirt is really thin. It must be an old shirt. He starts intensifying the fervor of his kiss, making my hands suddenly turn into claws as I rake my nails across his back. _Neat, I made_ him _shudder._

He groans again as his hand leaves the back of my head and his mouth moves to my shoulder. I let out a tiny gasp when he purposefully moves his leg against the apex of my thighs. Again, my hands get distracted from their voyage of discovery, and a few times I have to work to remind myself not to rip his old shirt as my hands uncontrollably ball up into fists because of how he continuously moves against me. It's been a _long_ time for me... a few weeks before I'd caught _him_ with _her_ , and now I'm beginning to wonder if it's been too long.

"No hickeys," I breathe out as he takes in a good amount of skin from my neck.

He chuckles quietly, and I lightly hit the back of his shoulders for laughing at me, making him laugh again.

His mouth goes back to my neck again as he mumbles scoffingly into it, "Like I would mar this beautiful neck."

"But..." _I get 'marred' so easily._ I'm unable to finish my sentence aloud because his thigh is back at it again. I can feel his erection press against my hip as he continues with his blessed movements, and I shudder again as I gauge the size of him through his shorts. "Um, Bryce?" I ask.

"Don't worry about it," he mumbles, and I'm not quite positive I know what he means. I can only assume he's referring back to what I said earlier about not being ready for that yet.

_Yeah, but what if I am after all?_ I think as I groan and grab a handful of his hair to get his blasted mouth back on mine already. He eagerly obeys my wordless demand. _But right here right now? I'm not sure I want our first time to be in a public place._ My fingers splay out as my hands travel down his chest to his abs and lower.

"Shit, Erin! Oh my god!" he quietly exclaims.

I bite my lip, hard, to keep from giggling, but I'm afraid my laughter probably shows in my eyes from the look he gives me when he opens his again. _I was right._

With an almost pained look, he moves my hand off his shorts. I reach up to try and wipe that look off his face with my free hand. He takes that one as well.

"Erin," he says as he presses my hands down into the grass on either side of me, "what are you doing? I barely have any control right now, and you're pushing me to my limits."

I know exactly what I'm doing, Bryce. I wouldn't do it if I didn't know.

I brazenly respond, "And you think you're the only one being pushed past their limits?" I move my hips against his leg suggestively and continue, "How did you _think_ I'd react to all that?"

I'm a little surprised at myself. I can't quite explain it, but I wasn't like this -- this brazen -- with Sean. I look up and see Bryce fighting an internal battle that I can see played about on his face. Finally, he moans and rolls off me, face up on the grass for a minute before he sits up on his elbows.

"What is it?" I ask, sounding insecure. I sit up a little and play with his collarbone.

"I have to get to work. I wish I didn't because what I really want to do is drag you back to my place right _now_ ," he says almost angrily. He suddenly sits up real fast and grabs my head to kiss me hungrily.

The realization of the situation we're in finally hits me, and the mousy little coward in me returns with full force. _He said he wants to drag me back to his place right now! Right_ now _? Now? Now. As in, if he didn't have to get to work soon, that's where we'd be headed. To..._

Okay, I guess I'm not ready.

What came over me?

"I'd better get you back to your place," he says quietly as his thumbs stroke my cheeks. I quietly nod my head before he lightly kisses the tip of my nose. "You wanna come by the bar tonight? Some of the crowd is gonna be there too." He winces. "I doubt Jesse though." I nod again.

So, I go home and try to write some. It doesn't really work. Again, I wonder if I'm going to have to go and get a job. With a sigh, I change into a comfy dress and get my hair under control before heading over to The Flamingo.

Bryce greets me as soon as I arrive, but it's not long before Ginger comes darting over to me. She'd been talking to the person formerly known as pirate-man, and he looks a little miffed that she just abandoned him like that. Personally, I don't blame her. From what I met of him the other night, he's not great for conversation.

Ginger starts spouting out words a mile a minute, and I have a hard time keeping up. She's being really nice; I'm just having a hard time keeping up. Before I know it, she drags me off, saying she wants to get to know me or something like that. I look apologetically back at Bryce as I'm dragged along. He merely laughs silently and shrugs his shoulders.

I feel like I'm playing a game of twenty questions as I sit here and talk with her. I mention my reason for moving here as vaguely as I can. I figure I may as well mention part of the reason, but I do not want to give any specifics to anyone yet. (Well, other than Bryce.)

It's not long until that Desmond comes over and asks Ginger to dance. I'm a little relieved. I can only take that much energy in small doses.

I happily get to sit quietly for a little while before Pamela comes over and speaks to me for a little bit before her husband comes and steals her so they can dance. (At least that's how he put it.) Bryce comes over to sit with me for a little while as well, but he never can stay long. Apparently, they're short one tonight. That girl that complained of having no tomato juice the other night hasn't shown. Bryce is pissed.

One of the times he comes to sit with me, I ask him, "Why not fire her and hire someone else?"

"I need to, but I don't know who to replace her with," he answers with a preposition at the end.

"What about me?" I ask quietly and look at the floor. I need a job. I realized that today when my writing session totally failed.

"Absolutely not," he says quickly and succinctly.

Surprised and a little hurt, I pop my head up in his direction. "Why not?"

"Because I don't like to mix business with pleasure," he answers with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

"Oh yeah right," I say disbelievingly.

A more serious look gets on his face now as he says, "Think about it, Erin. I want to be your _boyfriend_ , not your boss. That could open up a whole mess of a can of worms." He nervously glances up at the bartender and sees that the man needs help again, so he apologizes before going back over to help him.

I sit here and continue to feel a little hurt that he would so quickly dismiss, even reject, the idea of hiring me. That does nothing for my self-esteem. Sure, I'm pretty sure I'd suck at being a waitress or anything like that, but that way I could always be around him. If I get a job, it'll take time away from him. _Maybe I should write a short story or a children's book or something before going back to my bigger novel,_ I think as I pick at the paint on the table in front of me.

"Erin," I hear Bryce say after a while. He sounds like he's scolding me for my almost-pouting state. I look up at him, and he continues, "Dance with me."

I sigh resolutely and get up.

He holds me real close, and we don't move much. We hardly talk for a whole song.

When the next one starts up ( _Love Bites_ by Def Leppard), he says, sounding mildly irritated, "Please don't be mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," I say quietly.

"Yes you are. You're mad at me, and you're pouting because I said I wouldn't hire you."

Irritated he can read me so easily, I try to push away from him, but he only holds me tighter, clamping his hand around my fingers in the process.

"Erin, I _cannot_ be your boss, no matter how tempting the prospect is," he says as his fingers splay across my lower back while he continues to keep me from stomping off in a huff.

He starts talking again after he notices I'm not going to say a thing, "If you were always here, I'd never get anything done because you'd be a constant distraction... even more than you already are. And I don't need to be 'distracted' about an employee in that way." He turns his head and starts kissing me on my neck just below my ear. Then he mumbles into it, "There's just way too many ways I could take advantage of that situation. That would be very unethical."

"Oh, so this is about ethics?" I snap.

"This is about how I'd never get any work done because all I'd want to do would be _you_ in the break room, bathroom, wherever we could sneak away," he mumbles some more in my ear. "Not that that's any different from right now, but you don't treat employees like that."

His fingers start inching towards my butt. Irritated, I reach back with my free hand to move his wayward appendage back to my waist where it belongs.

He looks at me with false innocence and asks "What?" like he doesn't know.

"Not here for goodness sake," I answer, _still_ a little mad at him.

"Are you suggesting we go somewhere else? Now that things have calmed down, I could get Jones to close up for me," he asks hopefully, and my heart starts up at a gallop. _How on earth can I tell him that this afternoon was a fluke?_

I'd made a promise to myself this morning as I drank my coffee that I wouldn't sleep with him until at least, at _least_ , a week has gone by to make sure that I'm not a 'flavor of the week' like so many others before me.

"Hm?" he prods with a question.

"I just want to go home," I say stiffly and get free from him.

As I quickly head towards my scooter, I hear him say my name in a shocked exclamation. He asks me to wait, but I ignore him, start up, and drive off. It's not long before I have headlights behind me. I glance around to look and see an Audi hot on my tail. _Shit._

I park in front of my house and he's out of his car, jumping out instead of using the door, and running to head me off before I can reach my front porch. He doesn't succeed, but he does stop me before I can get to the door.

"Let go of me!" I growl at him.

"Not until you tell me what this is all about," he growls back as I struggle against him. "Is this still about me saying I don't want to hire you?" I groan in frustration that I can't get free as he continues, "Because I thought I explained that to you."

"A little, but I'm trying to get over it."

"Erin..."

"It hurts a little okay? I understand what you're saying though. It's just my book is turning into a failure, and I'm starting to panic." _About more than just my book._ "My money isn't going to last forever. Now, please just let me go."

"No," he says definitively before he locks his arms around me. "There's something else. You're _running_ from me, Erin, and I want to know why."

"I'm not running; now please let me go," I plead.

He ignores my request and says instead, "How can you not call you getting on your scooter and driving away without warning running? What did I do?!" His voice takes a desperate tone. "Why did you do that... again?"

I don't know how I can tell him. How can I tell him that what he was suggesting I'm not ready for? ... contrary to how I was this afternoon.

"I just can't okay?!!" I blurt out. "Look, I don't know what happened this afternoon, but it goes against a promise I made to myself." I'm grateful for the darkness because I blush. I bet he can still see it from my porch light, however.

"Promise?" he asks me to explain.

I let out a huff. _Crap._ "I will _not_ be a flavor of the week, Bryce!"

"Is that what you think?!"

"How am I supposed to know any different?"

Then he crashes his lips on mine. I realize I was probably acting a little crazy, but again, I panicked. It's just... all day long there was this incredible intensity coming off him, and it worried me. It was better at the pond, but now it's back like mad. I'm worried it means he's wanting me to right away jump into bed with him. Doesn't he know how easily I can be hurt, especially now? I can't risk that.

I hear myself let out this pathetic, whimpering sound when my attempt to pull away is unsuccessful. He's right. I'm running. I'm scared out of my mind that I've already fallen in love with him.

"Bryce, let me go," I say when he starts raining kisses down my neck.

"Not yet," he says, lifts his head up to look down at me, flip his hair out of his eyes, and penetrate me with an intense stare. "You asked me a question about how are you to know you're any different from all those tourists that I only used as a distraction to keep me from thinking about what Ashley did to me. Well, I'm going to tell you, and you decide what to make of it. You'd better not think I'm lying when I tell you that I love you. Because I do. I don't know how, but I do. Now, please don't feel like you have to say something, okay? Because you don't. _That's_ what I was trying to figure out how to say at the pond today. I told you while you were sleeping, hoping that would get it out of my system for a while, but it didn't work turns out." _My cloud? My cloud was real?_ "I love you, Erin," he says again and kisses me before I can say anything back.

I stand here and try to digest what he just said while he passionately kisses me. _But... but but but ... How? Why? When? Holy crap he's shaking!_ I start shaking as well, scared out of my mind again. I get the feeling he's afraid to stop kissing me because he doesn't want to hear what I might have to say. After all, he'd told me to not feel like I have to say something in response to what he said, and, even though I'm pretty damn sure I love him too, I'm not as brave as he is. I don't trust him yet. _So does that mean he worries whether or not he trusts me? Is that part of the reason why he's shaking? That has to be it._ I hear myself whimper again. _I'm really surprised. ... I'm really scared._

He stops kissing me and places two fingers over my mouth, obviously asking me not to speak. I feel my brows come together in worry as he says, "Now, I'm going to say goodnight and then go back before Jones sends out a search party. I have tomorrow off, and I'd very much like it if you came by my place in the morning as early as you feel like." Then he mumbles under his breath, "I doubt I'll sleep anyway." He continues in his regular voice, "Nod your head if that's okay." I nod my head. "Thank you," he breathes. Then a pained look crosses his face before he removes his fingers, kisses me lightly, and says goodnight before turning and walking down the stairs.

I unlock my door as fast as lightning, spin myself into the house, and lean against the wall near the door.

He loves me? He said he does. Me? Yes.

He loves me!

I slowly run my back along the wall as I sink to the floor, not sure if I should trust my legs right now.

# Chapter 16: I Wonder

"What do you mean?" he asked her with confusion written all over his face.

"Do you think I'm fucking blind?" she nearly yelled back to him, completely aggravated by his lack of seeing what was right in front of him. "Have you been bullshitting me this whole time? Yeah, you told me you weren't seeing anyone, and now I understand what you meant. No, you're not 'seeing' her, you're just sleeping with her!"

"Clara? The nanny? Is that what this is all about?" he asked, desperately trying to catch onto what Leandra meant when she said that she didn't think that their relationship was working.

"Yes, fucking Clara!" she answered. Then she giggled in sarcastic, ironic mirth as she repeated, "Yes. Fucking Clara. That's what she's there for, right?"

Angry now, he approached her and growled, "No. I hired her to take care of Amy when I'm unable to because of work. You know that."

"She hates Amy."

"No she doesn't."

"You're not sleeping with her?" she asked, starting to calm down a little.

"No. Where did this idea come from?" he asked. He figured he needed to get to the bottom of Leandra's insecurities before he could address the topic that she thought that Clara hated Amy.

"You don't see the way she looks at you? She wants in your pants so bad it's a wonder she hasn't dropped to her knees to undo them herself."

Lance quickly put his hand over his mouth to hide the huge grin that covered his face without warning. The very idea that Clara thought of him that way felt ludicrous.

"It's not fucking funny, Lance!" Leandra snapped at him.

Lance uncovered his mouth for a minute so he could be heard as he said, "Yes, it is. It's hilarious."

My computer blinks out on me for a minute before I can have a chance to write more about Leandra's ridiculous, but legitimate, jealousy. _No! Come back you stupid machine!_ I think as I hit the side of it with my hand. It blinks back on. _Phew!_

I'd been unable to go immediately to sleep, for obvious reasons, once I'd recovered for the most part from what Bryce told me tonight. I just can't wrap my head fully around the idea that he loves me. So, I decided to sit and write, avoiding thinking about him for a few hours. Or, at least, that's the plan. However, my computer has a different agenda. It must feel suicidal tonight.

"What am I supposed to think?" she asked him. "She's always here. When you're not around she's belligerently rude to me and cruel to Amy. I'm sure Amy would tell you about it except she's afraid of her!"

Lance walked up to her and

My computer makes a small popping noise, and I start to smell burning circuitry as smoke ekes out of it. _Damn it!_ _I think as I quickly reach under the desk to unplug my melting machine._

_Busted. It's completely busted! I'm_ never _going to finish this damn thing!_ I think as I slam my head down on my piece of shit keyboard. A few keys pop off again and clatter to the floor, but I don't care enough to pick them up. My machine has failed me for the last time. It's dead. Not only merely dead, but really most sincerely dead. It's not coming back. May it rest in pieces! It's bucked the kickit.

_Now what?_ _Now I have nothing to distract me from trying to keep from thinking about Bryce. It was so much easier when I could escape to Lance and Leandra's world._

Damn it!

I give up and go to bed. Luckily, I'm so exhausted that I fall asleep within minutes of my head hitting the pillow.

In the morning, I wake up and look at my alarm clock with ... alarm. _Eleven o'clock! Holy crap! Bryce said come by as early as I want, and it's almost lunchtime! He's going to think I'm blowing him off!_ I immediately reach for my cellphone and call him. He sounds relieved but like he's trying to hide it. _Damn it. He_ was _worried. Oh, what am I going to do?_

I hurriedly shower and quickly fix my hair into some quick braids at the sides of my head after I get dressed. It's already shaping up to be a very hot day, so I dress appropriately for the weather in a blue crop top that matches my eyes and the same white shorts I was wearing the first day I met Bryce.

I ring the doorbell at Bryce's house, and it's not long before I see him dart out of the kitchen and walk down the hallway towards the door. _Please don't be weird. Please don't be weird. Please don't be weird,_ I think in rapid succession. I hate how I feel nervous again.

He opens the door and stands there, wide-eyed, for a few, long seconds as I watch his eyes rake me from head to toe before he finally says, "Hi... Erin." Then he motions me inside.

I apologize again for sleeping as late as I did when he'd expected me to come by earlier than now as I walk in the door.

He closes it behind me, turns to me and says, "I'm sure we can find a way for you to make it up to me."

He surprises me when he suddenly pulls me to him and kisses me. I can't help but notice how warm his hands feel against my exposed midriff as my arms slowly work their way around his neck. _This is okay. Yeah. This isn't weird at all._

_Wait a second... 'make it up to me'? Just what does he mean by that? This? Or more? What is he expecting?_ I realize, belatedly, how the clothing I chose to wear today must look to him. _Crap, I just wanted to be comfortable. What was I thinking? No wonder he just stood there like that when he answered the door._

He, um, must really like my outfit because his hands are all over me. I feel like such a bonehead. _Bone... Yeah._

He moans into my mouth before his arms wrap themselves tighter around me, squeezing me to the point of pain. I whimper a tiny bit as I squirm against his too-tight hold of me, which he immediately slackens.

I remember yesterday when he had gripped me this tightly while he was thinking ... about what he told me last night I guess. I wonder if he has some kind of abandonment complex thing going on and that's the reason he holds on so tight. It makes sense. _Oh, my sweet Bryce, if I ever meet that cheating Ashley bitch ...! Oh well, if she hadn't been a cheating bitch then you wouldn't be available and that would be a shame._

_Fine, go ahead and hold me as tight as you need,_ I think now as I myself squeeze him to me. He lets out a moderately-shaky exhale as he kisses me with renewed vigor and squeezes me again, this time not quite to the point of being painful.

Then, his hand moves to my butt as he pulls me hard against him. _Yes, I know, Bryce._

_Oh shit, that feels so damn good!_ I think as he starts massaging me, and I hear myself groan uncontrollably. _The man has magic hands!_ I think as my knees actually buckle for half a second before I can recover. The hand that had been holding my face only moments before moves to the buttons of my shirt. I'm wearing a bikini underneath my clothes, but he doesn't know that. He successfully undoes two buttons at an incredible speed before he gets stuck on the third since the tie underneath it causes the fabric to pull the fastenings tighter.

_Time to stop,_ I think as I hear him growl in frustration.

I succeed in taking a step backwards with an apologetic look on my face. I can't look him in the eyes right now as I try to figure out how to say that we'd taken that far enough. I feel as first one, then the other of his hands get ahold of my waist before he closes the gap between us again. I think he's grinning at me as he tilts his head down to try to put his face in my line of vision. It's like we're playing tag or something because he keeps trying to get me to look at him and I keep looking away.

"Bryce..." I whine, close my eyes, and crash my forehead into his chest. He just chuckles and wraps his arms around me in a simple fashion.

"So what do you want to do today?" he asks.

"I need to go computer shopping," I mumble into his shirt and wonder what detergent he uses.

"Huh?" he asks, obviously not expecting that answer.

"My computer died. It's not getting better; it's completely stone dead. I think the hard drive melted," I explain. "And I can't very well write without one."

"You could use mine," he offers unexpectedly.

I lift my head up to look at him and ask, "Really?"

He shrugs and says, "Yeah. Why not? I only use the thing to balance the books and play random games sometimes."

He reaches up to try and brush some of my hair out of my face, but it falls right back to where it was almost immediately.

"That's very nice of you to offer, but I really need to buy one of my own," I say quietly.

"But if you wind up using mine all the time then that's one more reason for you to be over here more often," he says with a triumphant smile.

"But I do all my writing when I'm not around you."

"You don't have to stop writing just because I'm around, you know. I know you're worried about not finishing your book or something, so don't worry about it."

But I don't want you to accidentally see what I'm writing about.

"Oh that reminds me. Can I read it?" he asks out of the blue.

_I don't know,_ can _you?_ The voice of my eighth grade language arts teacher sounds off in my head. Then I think, _Shit, no you can't._

"No," I say quickly. His mouth drops open in shock. "I'd be too embarrassed," I explain quickly.

"Embarrassed by me?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes."

He playfully rolls his eyes and mumbles, "Artists." I lightly punch him in the stomach. He laughs, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

I don't know how he does it, but he can go from making me extremely nervous and bashful to totally at ease within minutes. I ponder this as we stand here in the entryway quietly with our arms around each other and my head still on his shoulder. I thought for sure he would try to have a go at the last button on my shirt again. I wonder what he's thinking.

I can't help it, so I ask, "What are you thinking about?"

He groans, and I feel him throw his head back to look up at the ceiling. Then he brings his mouth down against the back of my neck and responds, "Do you really want to know?"

_Uh oh._ "Um, maybe?" I ask, looking out the window.

"I'm thinking... that I really don't want to go computer shopping today. Use mine."

"But I need to," I mumble.

"Okay, so tomorrow," he says and starts kissing the nape of my neck. I feel his very-short beard scrape against my skin as he works his way down to my shoulder. Then he mumbles into it, "I don't want to go anywhere today. Adele has an after school activity today, some study group thing to get her grades up, and I want to spend that extra time with you... here."

"Where is your computer anyway?" I ask, not remembering seeing one downstairs. I lift my head up to see him grinning at me before he pulls me towards the stairs.

His computer is in his... bedroom. He apparently wants to make me as comfortable as possible with using his machine, so we work on setting up a user profile for me right away. I also wonder what he's hiding, but I don't press it. _Probably his virtual little black book._

Then his phone rings. "Hey, Jesse," he says into it, and my head snaps in his direction. He looks at me apologetically and pantomimes him walking out of the room to go talk to his friend. I shrug and nod, telling him that's fine with me. He, quiet as a mouse, lightly kisses me on the forehead and walks out of the room. "Yeah man, what the fuck?!" I hear him ask before he closes the door.

So, I log on to my online account to add a little to my book while he talks (argues probably) to his so-called best friend.

_No, I don't like how I made Lance react to that. That's not him,_ I think as I hit enter about twenty times to put a huge break in between what I wrote and what I'm going to replace it with so I don't have to delete it yet. Then, my mind goes blank.

Honestly, all I can think about at the moment is what happened with Jesse, and I wonder what he and Bryce are talking about. I wonder why I'm not privy to that conversation. It's probably about me for Pete's sake.

I growl, close out the browser, and get up to walk out on the balcony that's attached to Bryce's bedroom.

I prefer being outside anyway. _My next computer is definitely going to be a laptop. Maybe I can get one of those notebook things if they're cheaper._

_It's gorgeous out here,_ I think as I look out over the ocean. Then I remember my dream and my saving golden cloud. _That was Bryce?_

I lean down on the railing with my cheek in my hand, my hip cocked out at an angle. I glance over at the house next door, really behind Bryce's house and not necessarily next door, and I randomly wonder who lives there.

_I wonder how long Bryce and Jesse are going to argue? I wonder how long it'll be before I don't feel weird around Jesse?_ I dread seeing him again, but I know it's inevitable. I sigh and stand up straighter as I look almost longingly down at Bryce's pool. It's really turning into a hot day.

_Bryce has been talking to Jesse for a solid half hour now probably. I wonder if that's normal or if it isn't._ I find it strange that I really have no idea if it is or it isn't... strange that I know so little about him yet I think I've fallen in love with him. _He told me he loves me. I don't know if I can handle that right now._

Suddenly, warm hands wrap around my middle from behind me. I gasp in surprise, but then I smile when I consider how he successfully sneaked up behind me.

"I thought you were supposed to be _writing_ ," he teases me as his arms tighten their hold.

I laugh quietly and say, "I got stuck on this one part. I may have to go back and delete almost a whole chapter so that I don't back myself into that corner that I backed myself into."

"You know... I might be able to help. But, oh that's right... you won't let me read it!" he says, and I can't quite determine if his voice sounds irritated, teasing or both. "What would embarrass you if I read it?" he asks, now with a moderately pouting voice. "What's it about anyway?"

_Oh shit,_ I think in a mild panic as I feel myself blush. "Bryce, don't worry about the book. It's a fail anyway. I'm going to publish it under a different name and make absolutely nothing off of it. Then, I'm going to write a few children's books that will hopefully be more successful."

"You're trying to distract me from my question; I know this tactic. You don't want to even tell me what it's about, do you?"

I let out a huff. "Why do you even want to know?"

"Because I was just being nice earlier when I asked if I could read it, but then you said no which made me curious. Now you won't even tell me what it's _about_ , so of course I'm dying to know." He kisses the back of my neck as he pauses, and I scramble inside my brain for something to tell him that won't give too much away. I feel him jerk his head up suddenly before he asks, "Wait a minute. Under a different name? Why would you do that?" He mockingly gasps and mumbles into my ear, "Is it one of those trashy romance novels?"

I can't help it. I jump a little and turn slightly to look at him in shock to see him grinning at me triumphantly.

"It is, isn't it?" he says as his grin gets wider.

"Um, well, I don't know if I'd call it 'trashy' per se, but um... " _That's because I haven't gotten to that part yet._ "Um..." I look up at him. "Stop looking at me like that."

"How do you _want_ me to look at you?" he asks, acting like he's just itching to crack up laughing but holding it in.

"Bryce..." I whine, and I hate the way it sounds.

He licks his lips for a split second before he says, "Of course, now I really want to read it."

"No," I say and shake my head to emphasize my point. "But now I have an idea how to not delete the chapter and get myself out of the corner I painted myself into."

"Oh, so I helped!" he says with a mischievous grin. _He's not going to let up on me now that he knows what kind of novel it is, is he?_ I walk around him and back to the computer as he continues, "Just let me know if you need anymore inspiration. I'd be all too happy to help."

I groan as I sit down in the chair, and he laughs.

My fingers move a mile a minute as the ideas happily flow out of my head. Bryce gets a book out of his bedside table and starts reading. I think he's only doing it to annoy me, but he's actually helping me (little does he know). I'll bet he thinks if I see him reading that I'll give in and let him read my book, but it's not happening.

Still, just to make him feel better, I ask, "So, what are you reading?"

I can almost _hear_ him grinning as he answers, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I glance out of the corner of my eye and see he's reading a cookbook. _A cookbook?!_ "Find any good recipes to try?" I ask and bite my lip to hide my smile.

He doesn't miss a beat and answers, "Actually, I found one for a mac and cheese casserole that I might actually be able to cook. Pam gave me this thing years ago. Today's the first time I've cracked it open." He turns a page.

He continues, "I just wanted to show that I _do_ occasionally like to read. Especially if it's a topic that interests me. You know, for instance, like what's going on inside your head for that trashy romance novel you're writing." I roll my eyes, but he doesn't see so he keeps going. "I don't usually read those types of books, but I think I could make an exception."

Ignoring his intended topic, I ask, "So what kind of books do you like to read?"

"Science fiction and fantasy mostly. Though, not the kind of 'fantasy' that you're writing about. I mean like Dungeons and Dragons type stuff." He turns another page. "Maybe I've been missing out."

_Well, you're not starting with this one,_ I think as the two of us get quiet again. It's not long before his presence begins to wear on my nerves. _Why does he have to want to read it? Why does he have to be so damn persistent about it?_ I get so caught up in wondering why he's so desperately wanting to read it that I lose the line of thoughts I had before I can type them up. I hate it when this happens.

With an exasperated sigh, I rest my head in my hand and pick at the bottom of his monitor absently. _What the hell am I going to do about Clara? She's gotta go, but I don't know how. Maybe Lance could come home early from his business trip and find her being cruel to Amy... but where does Leandra fit into this? Or does she even have to? This book is really starting to piss me off. Leandra just needs to fucking tell him she loves him already!_

But she doesn't know how.

_Oh boy, how's that for an obvious parallel? I really hope this doesn't mean I'm Leandra._ _And the worst is Lance is getting farther removed from Bryce all the time... he's... Sean. Damn it, he's based around fucking Sean! No wonder Leandra doesn't want to tell him._

_I am so messed ... up. No wonder this book is turning into shit! I may as well scrap the whole thing and start over. I mean, I started it without any clear plan or developed characters. I was just happy I was writing. Great._ Another _failure in my life. Maybe I should just say fuck it and go get a real job._ A tear escapes my eye and runs down the length of my nose.

I move to wipe it away, and Bryce is immediately on his knees next to me.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice full of concern. _I'd almost forgotten where I was. I'm sitting here crying in Bryce's_ bedroom _, having a pathetic pity party._

"I hate it. I should just delete the whole thing from existence... do the world a favor." I reach for the mouse before Bryce reaches out to stop my hand with one of his, and with the other, he turns the computer off. _Crap. It's on standby, and this'll be the thing that comes up when it's turned on again._ I reach for the power button.

"Oh no you don't!" Bryce says in his parent voice as he gains possession of both of my hands before turning me to face him.

I take in a calming breath before I request, "Bryce, let me turn the computer back on so I can at least close it out."

"Later, when I know you're not going to delete it," he promises.

"I'm going to start it over," I decide right here and now. "Now that the characters are developed better, I can fix it."

"Maybe what you need right now is a break."

"That's all I do!" I exclaim as he stands up and tugs on my arms, trying to encourage me to stand. With a small huff, I do as he asks.

"Forget about it for now. Besides, I don't know what I was thinking when I mentioned you could use my computer. I should've told you that at the _end_ of the day." He grins. "I was getting jealous of it."

"Jealous of an inanimate object," I state.

"Yes, because it was getting all of your attention," he answers first with a grin, but then his face takes on a more serious look to it just before kissing me.

Jealous of a computer?! It's not like I was ... like I was chatting with someone online.

He knows that's not what I was doing; that's ridiculous that he would make that connection.

A tiny gasp comes flying out of me when both of his hands move to my butt and his tongue dips into the little hollow between my shoulder blades. _The magic hands are back,_ I think and groan as he walks backwards, pulling me with him towards his bed.

_Well, I have to admit this is more comfortable than the ground,_ I think once on top of his mattress, and I jump a little when his tongue starts playing with my earring. _Oh, that's good weird... and apparently he likes doing that... ... ... He won't quit and it's driving me insane!_ I whimper and try to turn my head, but he acts ready for that and stops me by holding my head in place. I hear myself cry out when I feel his teeth lightly graze me. As I squirm, I think, _Oh my god, if this man can do this with just my freaking_ ear _, imagine what he could do with the rest of me!_ I start fighting a little harder to make him quit so I don't end up screaming from the bizarrely pleasurable sensations it evokes. He just laughs quietly a little, almost pissing me off as he effortlessly keeps my head right where he wants it.

"Bryce, please!" I rasp out. He laughs quietly again, obviously having way too much fun with this. I feel his free hand travel to my breast, and I'm shocked to discover that he somehow managed to get his hand up _under_ my swimsuit top. A whimper escapes me again as his thumb starts toying with my nipple.

Then, we hear a quiet, little voice ask, "Daddy?"

# Chapter 17: Just Punishment

### Jesse

I walk into my kitchen after dumping that broken picture that Erin threw at me earlier today, throw my keys down on the kitchen counter, walk into my living room, and flop down on my small couch.

Jesse, you idiot. What the hell were you thinking?

All day long, I had looked forward to closing up shop and heading over to Erin's. Yeah, I felt a little bad for my buddy Bryce, but I thought if she honestly didn't prefer him then why shouldn't _I_ try?

I drove Lara absolutely nuts today at the shop as I aimlessly wandered around wondering what I could get her to help really break the ice, especially since she seemed reserved. _Reserved... Hah! Yeah, unless she's really pissed off. The woman aimed that thing right at my head!_

When I heard that she and Bryce were dating after all, the green-eyed snake of jealousy's fangs sunk deep. _Why is it always Bryce? What does he have that I don't?_

_If I'd seen her first would that have made a difference? Doubtful. Whenever Bryce has_ wanted _to, he's taken any girl he felt like. So many times it was a miracle that he didn't try. Oh, but those times ... none of them wanted to stay. Not one._

_I'm really getting sick of this,_ I think as I stand up in a really bad mood and head out to my bar in my backyard next to my pool.

It's gotten dark, and that's just fine with me as I stand here and stare out at the water, watching the trees sway back and forth with the breeze.

I'm still glad I made the decision to move here. I'd always had a great time when I came here with my parents. I want to cling to those good memories by being here instead of back where I grew up. My parents got a divorce. Divorce isn't good at any age. Even at eighteen, they were still my parents. It took me _one_ Christmas of that bullshit before I decided I didn't want any part of it anymore.

Then I met Bryce and Ashley. On the outside, they looked happy, and I envied Adele. Bryce and Pam had recently lost their parents, and I could tell he was having a hard time dealing with it. I felt a little guilty considering I pretty much shoved my parents away, but I honestly felt my family died when my lame-ass parents decided to divorce. So, Bryce and I quickly became best friends. Then, Ashley left him, shocking the hell out of both of us.

I still remember quite clearly how he acted then. He was angry... understatement of the century. He was _pissed_. He'd rant and rave, and Adele would cry. I couldn't stand it, so I'd just hug her like I was hugging some form of my childhood self. It was good of Pamela and Simon to step up to the plate for her like they did and give her some form of solid parenting while Bryce almost drank himself into an early grave.

I didn't let that bullshit continue for very long before I had to shake some sense into him. I told him "Fuck her! You can do better than that bitch! Hell, now you're free to mess around all you want!" He really took that to heart. Now that I look back on it, he was chasing all those women as a way of getting back at Ashley, acting like he had something to prove.

Still, he knew his limits. He didn't want to interfere, and I knew, when he could tell if I was really stuck on one girl or another. I guess that has happened a lot, come to think of it. _Damn, it's a wonder I_ have _a heart from the number of times it's been broken. I'm such a sap._

But then there were those times when he didn't back down, and I'd lose almost every time. I thought the song was "Jesse's Girl" not "Bryce's Girl."

_Well, he'd better be fucking serious with her because she's not going anywhere. I'd hate to have to get into_ another _fist fight, but I will if he's just screwing around,_ I think as I climb the stairs to my room. The windows in my bedroom face Bryce's room, and several times, I've had to close my curtains to avoid looking over there in anger.

Just before I turn the light out to crash into an almost-drunken sleep, I see Bryce's bedroom light come on, and I wonder again why I had the bright idea to buy this house. For a while, it made for some awesomely huge parties, but then after Ashley left, it's been a frequent source of annoyance. _Well, at least there's proof he's not spending the night at Erin's... and I don't want to know if she's there,_ I think as I quickly turn out the light and move the curtains to block out the window.

The next morning, I wake up and remember that Bryce plans to have another get-together at his bar tonight. I'm not going.

In fact, I spend the whole day in my underwear watching reruns of _Happy Days_.

Monday again. It doesn't help the store faces Erin's little house. Great. So I have Bryce's house at home and Erin's house at work.

I get there early and sit outside staring off into space before I have to go and officially open the store. I'm pouting. I know it, and I hate it. _So what? Okay, so Bryce is happy. I should be happy for him, not kissing and trying to steal his girlfriend._

Adele waves at me from her bicycle on her way to school, and I decide enough is enough. I'm calling Bryce during my lunch break. I'd do it now, but it's time to open.

Lunch arrives, and I scarf down a quick burger. With a resigned sigh, I call my best friend. He answers on the third ring.

"Hey, Jesse," he says, sounding curious.

"Hey. Yeah, so I assume you heard what happened," I say.

He's quiet for a minute before he finally answers, "Yeah man, what the fuck?!"

"Err... yeah. Sorry," I say lamely.

"Sorry? That's all you have to say is sorry?! You kiss my girlfriend _after_ you find out that she is, in fact, my girlfriend, and all you can say is _sorry_?!" he growls into the other end of the line.

"What else do you want me to say?"

"How about 'Bryce, I beg your forgiveness for this horrible mistake I made. Please, come up with some humiliating thing for me to do so that I can prove to you how very sorry I am' for a start," he answers, not sounding like he's joking.

A little worried by how very pissed he sounds, I ask, "Um, what humiliating thing?" Through the years, the two of us have come up with a few different idiotic stunts, and I worry about which one he might want me to do. _Please, not the jar of mayonnaise costume._ _Well, that one isn't so bad if I can find a few willing tourists with a good sense of humor._

"I think it's time to break out the blue coat. Don't you?" he asks, and I can hear him trying not to laugh.

"It's too damn hot for the blue coat," I say quickly.

"Too damn bad. You had fun making fun of Desmond Friday. I'm sure he'll be all too happy to return the favor _this_ Friday, Captain Jesse." He pauses for a second. "In fact, let's just invite the whole damn island this time."

I'm actually a little relieved. He could've made it so much worse.

I laugh and say, "Alright fine. Captain Jesse it is. In fact, just to further prove that I really am sorry, I'll go the whole nine yards: grow out the beard, find a wench or maybe two, three... You're going to make me have a heat stroke in that thing."

"Nah, I'll ice down a keg or something. Be happy I'm going easy on you. It's for her sake anyway. She was really freaked out," he says, his voice getting more serious.

I wince and ask, "That bad? I mean, I know she was pissed..."

"It was the best friend thing. I shouldn't say any more than that," he says.

I see a familiar head of red hair in my peripheral vision, so I say to Bryce, "Okay, well, I gotta get going. I think I may have found my first 'wench' for Friday. Then I've gotta go home to see if I can even find that ugly coat."

"You'd better find it. That or you're buying another one," he warns.

"Yeah, sure," I say distractedly, making sure Ginger doesn't get too far away. "Gotta go." I hang up. After I put my phone back in my pocket, I yell out, "Hey, Ginger!" Her face pops over in my direction with a look of surprise. I grin in anticipation as I walk over to her.

# Chapter 18: Frilly Black Walls

### Erin

_Oh crap, Adele!_ I think in shock. At lightning fast speed, Bryce moves his hand out from under my shirt and swimsuit top to a more generic location before guiltily turning around to face his daughter. I'm glad my top went back into place without any trouble, but I want to crawl into a hole and die from embarrassment.

"Adele," Bryce says evenly, "I thought you had that study group to go to."

Her face shows very little emotion as she answers, "It was cancelled until tomorrow. The teacher was out sick." Her eyes dart back and forth between us.

I can't help but get the feeling she's thinking, 'yeah, I know what you two were up to, don't try to hide it from me.' _I wonder how much she saw._

"Well," she says, "I guess I'll go do my homework or something."

"Okay," Bryce says simply.

After she leaves the room, I drop my calm façade and crash face-first into the comforter with a small cry. Again, I feel like we're a couple of teenagers that got caught by their parents. How can a _daughter_ make us feel like this?

I hear Bryce chuckle, and then I feel his hand rub my back reassuringly. He leans down to say low in my ear, "Don't worry about it."

Not trusting him around my ears right now, I move away from him. He follows me.

"And just where do you think _you're_ going?" he asks playfully. _Oh no._ "I'm not finished with you yet." I gasp in shock as he lifts me and deposits me right back where I was before Adele walked in on us.

His tongue runs up my throat as he moves back on top of me.

"Bryce..." I start to say calmly.

He grunts and keeps me from saying anymore for a few minutes. Don't get me wrong, I like it, but I feel weird with Adele in the house... even on the same floor. That thought is very distracting.

Bryce leaves my mouth and kisses me across my cheekbone before he heads to my other ear.

"No!" I moan, trying to escape.

"Why not?" he asks as he tries to turn my head back. "You have very sensitive ears, Erin," he says quietly. "And don't think turning away is gonna stop me. After all, there's one on each side." I can hear the laughter in his voice. "I just didn't want this one to feel jealous of all the attention the other side got."

I jump as he attempts to claim the same ear he had before since I have my head turned against the one he was originally going for. "It makes me go insane," I say as I start backing my way up the bed.

"I know," he says and grabs my hips to pull me back under him. "That's why I did it, once I discovered what it did to you." He grins and asks, "I wonder where else you're this sensitive? That'll be fun to explore." Then he gets a firm grip of my chin and gently turns my head. "But for now, I don't want this ear to feel left out." His mouth attacks my ear, and only the presence of Adele in the house prevents me from screaming. _This is so fucking weird! Why in hell do I like it?!_

My fingers uncontrollably spread as far apart as they can go as I reach out to either side of me desperately. Then they clench into fists, pulling up the comforter as I let out something between a cry, moan, and whimper.

I beg in a whisper, "Please. ... I can't take it. It's too weird!"

He gives my ear a break so he can say, "Oh, my beautiful Erin, I can think of _much_ weirder stuff than this." Then he starts back up again, and I fight his hold of me as much as these crazy sensations let me.

After a few minutes of struggling, I can't take it anymore. "Please. Mercy! Uncle! Whatever it takes, Bryce please," I beg.

"You're right. I think this ear's had its fair share," he says after he stops, and I work on catching my breath.

_My ears. I had no idea,_ I think as I close my eyes and continue to take in shaky breaths. I feel him kissing me along my jaw, and I jump from the surprise contact.

"Relax," he says. "I'm not so cruel as to do it again right now." Then his lips are on mine, and I feel disoriented and light headed from hyperventilating. Every nerve is on high alert, like my body is humming. Everywhere Bryce touches me feels like he's touching deeper than my skin, and I realize I'm completely under his spell. I suspect Adele's presence in the house is the only thing keeping him from taking this as far as it can be taken. Now, I'm actually a little glad she didn't have that study group today... even if we got caught.

Adele doesn't come back into the room again as he leisurely kisses me. I mentally come up with ways I can get him back for what he did to me, but I dare not do them now for fear of going against my personal promise.

He doesn't try to do anything to make me go insane again, and I adore the way he holds me as we just lie here kissing. I don't know how he does it, but he has this way of kissing me that makes me feel like he's dipping down into the center of my being. _He's so passionate. I wonder if he was like this with everyone or is it just me? Never mind, I don't really want to know._

After a while, he says, "I need to fix something to eat for dinner."

"I can do it," I offer.

"No. You're the guest," he says, and I roll my eyes.

He looks thoughtful for a few seconds while I get up and off the bed. "What is it?" I ask.

"We should probably go and talk to Adele. She's not used to seeing that." _She's not?_ "I tried to shield her from the things I'd do."

_Oh, great,_ I think sarcastically. Then I think, _What must she have thought of me? Of her dad? Ten years old. Just barely in the pre-teen years_. _What a hard time to not have a mom._ We walk across the upper floor to the door that must lead to Adele's room.

Bryce knocks on it, and we hear a "Yeah?" come from the other side.

"May Erin and I come in?" he asks.

We hear a slight shuffling noise before she answers, "Yes."

I stand in her room, simply stunned. I watch as Bryce talks to his daughter about us. _He adores her._ He explains to her that I'm going to be at their house a lot, but that doesn't mean that he won't have time for her and that we will exclude her from everything.

"However," he continues, "there will be times that Erin and I are going to want to be alone." He further explains how we'll probably only have those times when she's at school or somewhere or past bedtime.

He doesn't talk down to her, and I admire him for that. He asks that she knock if she sees his bedroom door closed, something he'd been lax in enforcing recently.

Adele asks about a billion questions that Bryce and I try our best to answer. I can see from her expression she has questions for me alone. I think Bryce catches on because he leaves to go attempt that mac and cheese casserole that he read about when he did more than just pretend to read. He winks at me as he mentions this.

"Your bedroom is about three times the size of mine, and almost twice as big as your dad's," I mention, looking around.

"Yeah, he wanted me to have this room because I host sleepovers and stuff sometimes, and he says he doesn't need the space, and he said he likes the view out of that side of the house better." She shrugs. "I don't mind."

We both walk over and sit on the rug on her floor and talk about stuff. It's... impossible not to notice her walls are covered with posters of some rock star.

I have to ask. "So, who's this guy that has taken over the walls of your room?" _Her walls are painted black. Did she choose that?_ I glance sideways at the little girl in the frilly dress as she goes on and on about how he's a keyboardist in some band and that she adores him.

"I can tell," I say, and we both start giggling.

She points to one of the posters, "I got _this_ one before any of my friends did. They were all so jealous for weeks. Aunt Lynne got it for me. She's a big fan of the band too."

"Aunt Lynne?" I ask.

"You haven't met Aunt Lynne?"

"Your dad has another sister?"

She giggles before she explains, "No. Sorry. He's just known her forever so she's _like_ a sister. So, I call her Aunt Lynne."

"Oh. Well, then yes, I've met Lynne." _And she threatened me that if I hurt Bryce she'd make my life a living hell. Known him forever huh? Well, that explains it a little. Like a sister... only a sister._

We sit and have more girl talk, and she throws in a question now and then... kind of like she's trying to get out of me how I feel about her dad. Then I get the entire history as she knows it of her favorite band. I try to pay attention, but the girl can really talk fast.

It's not long until Bryce comes up to tell us dinner is ready. He gets this look in his eyes when he sees Adele and me talking on the floor on our elbows and knees with her pillows and stuffed animals. _Oh no. Please don't get all sentimental on me; I'm going to cry. I've already wanted to cry several times when I think about how desperate Adele acts for this kind of attention._

"I'll go set the table!" Adele says as she runs down the stairs.

I stand up off the rug and toss the pillows I used back on the bed before Bryce quickly crosses the room and passionately kisses me.

He attempts to talk and kiss me at the same time as he gets out, "You... don't have to... be this way... but you ... you're doing it anyway."

I place my hand over his mouth as I say, "Don't. I can't take that right now. I'll start crying. Let's... just go eat dinner."

# Chapter 19: Steamy

After dinner, the three of us watch TV for a little bit before Adele's bedtime. Then we go upstairs, and I stand in the doorway of her bedroom while he tucks her in. I'm further reminded of how I'm falling madly in love with him as I watch him with her. _Bryce is sexy enough as it is, but watching him with his daughter and how sweet he is just makes me want to melt._

Once Adele is all tucked in and everything, I back into the hallway behind me to give him space to close the door. Once he does, he turns around to me, and his arms immediately find their way around my waist.  
"So, what should we do now?" he mumbles quietly to me, and immediately my mind flies to his bedroom behind me. I look up at his warm brown eyes as he looks like he's trying to figure out my thoughts.  
Then, this roguish grin covers his face as he suggests, "How about I change into my swimsuit since you already have one on, and we make use of that ridiculously-expensive-to-maintain hot tub I have outside?"

"You knew?" I ask, asking about my suit.

He curls his lips in and presses them together for a few seconds like he's debating how to answer my question before he finally says, "Well, there's the obvious... the fact that I discovered it just before Adele walked in on us. But," he looks guilty for only a split second before he continues, "I could see it through your shorts when you were leaning on the railing earlier." I make a little shocked sound to which he replies, "Well, Erin, you have an impeccably nice ass, and there it was. Why shouldn't I look?"

I so badly want to call him a perv for hiding and staring at me, but honestly I can't help but feel flattered. Instead, I tell him to go put on his suit. I head to the downstairs bathroom to remove my shirt and shorts, put my glasses on the rim of the sink, and take down my braids before heading outside the sliding glass door from the dining room to the aforementioned hot tub.

_I just had to wear a bikini, didn't I?_ I think as I hear Bryce walking up behind me. I hate it that I feel nervous again. _Adele has been put to bed, I'm in a hot tub in a bikini, and even the man's_ feet _are sexy,_ I think as I see him step down into the hot tub out of the corner of my eye. I have an overwhelming desire to rake my nails across his chest and run my tongue down his collarbone, but I squelch it and force myself to stare at the trees in front of me.

Talk, Erin, you big chicken.

But what do I talk about?

He speaks up, "Comfy?" I nod to which he replies, "You don't look it."

I purposefully sink down, rest my head against the edge of the hot tub, and look at him to ask, "Do I now?"

A corner of his mouth goes up in a sideways smile, and I feel that intense feeling coming off him again. I get the feeling he's going to want to discuss what he told me last night. My eyes close, and I face my face upward as I sit here and try unsuccessfully to relax. I feel ridiculous.

The warm water swirls around me as I feel his arm move behind my head and him scoot closer to me. I turn and look at him a little nervously, but I still try to portray a sense of calm.

"You're trying too hard," he says.

"What do you mean?" I ask even though I'm pretty damn sure I know what he means.

"It's just me after all," he says quietly while his hand moves up and down my forearm.

Yeah. Just you. Just the man that professed a want to try and find out everywhere I'm particularly sensitive only a few hours ago.

He asks, "What is it?" Then he grins triumphantly before he says, "Okay. It's my turn now to ask _you_ what you're thinking."

I bite my lip nervously. Damn it! Why do I have to be this way? By now, Sean would've been all over me, and I wouldn't have time to be nervous. I can't shake the feeling that Bryce wants to talk about what he told me last night.

He leans down to talk quietly in my ear. "Erin, if you don't stop biting that lip I _will_ steal it from you and bite it myself." I jump a little, release my lower lip from my teeth, and turn to face him. His face hasn't moved an inch from where he had it to speak into my ear. He runs his finger down my jaw and asks, "Are you going to tell me what you're thinking, or am I going to have to guess?"

Well, that sounded like he thinks I'm thinking about physical, not emotional, stuff. I might be able to handle the physical a little better.

I take in a breath and say bravely, "Well, right now I'm thinking how badly I want you to kiss me."

He smiles and does as I request, but I'm disappointed when he keeps it short. My eyes open in surprise to see his staring back at me as he says, "Very nice thought. However, that's not what you were thinking when I asked, is it?"

As if in a trance or under some truth serum, I answer, "Not quite. I was thinking about how nervous I was and still am right now and how that irritates me."

The only thing I see are his eyes as he replies, "Now that I believe, but why?"

I want to hide from those eyes, so I look down at the water swirling around us, watching the bubbles pop occasionally. An unknown amount of time passes before I think, _I need to answer the 'why.'_

"Is it because of what I said last night?" he asks, and I look up at him again to see a solemn expression on his face.

When I don't contradict him, he looks worried as he says quickly, "Erin, don't worry about it! I only told you because you said something to the effect that you had no way of knowing that you're not like the rest of them. I wasn't going to tell you for a while because I didn't, still don't, want you to feel like you have to feel the same way. I told you no one understands better than me about what you're going through, and I just know I'm at a different place than you are. I don't have to mention it again if it makes you uncomfortable!" He stops his impromptu speech to look at me with a desperately worried expression that just melts my heart. "I didn't know what else to do!" he exclaims.

Stopping him before he can really start panicking, I place my fingers over his lips. I don't understand why he looks so worried that him telling me he loves me is a bad thing. "Bryce," I say in what I hope is a soothing voice, "I'm a little nervous because of that, yes, and for all the reasons you guessed." He closes his eyes like he's in pain before I continue, "But I'm also... um... elated I guess is a good word."

He lightly kisses my fingers before he reaches over and gently pulls them off his mouth. "I'm sorry, Erin. I didn't mean to put you on the spot, and I still don't."

I smile in spite of everything and say, "You're apologizing again for things that don't need an apology." I can't resist reaching up and stroking his cheek, watching as he closes his eyes. _I wish he'd stop looking so damn worried._

"Oh yes I do need to," he says, and I roll my eyes. "Because now I worry that you feel like you have to say something similar since I told you I love you." _He said it again._ He opens his eyes and continues, "You don't have to. I don't want you to feel forced to feel anything, yet all the same, I had to tell you. And now I'm terrified that me admitting that will scare you away."

_That's crazy._ "Why?"

He closes his eyes again before he answers, "Because that's what I would've done if someone would've said that to me at the point where you are now. I was nowhere near wanting to start up anything remotely serious. And you said something to that effect Friday night." _Was it really just last Friday?_ "You said you weren't ready, that the hurt was too fresh. I remember that quite clearly because those words tortured me for the next twelve hours."

I miraculously know what to say. "And during those twelve or so hours I decided I want to be with you, ready or not. It still hurts like the very devil from time to time, but not so much when I'm with you. All the time I'm reminded what an ass he was and how wonderful you are."

Just kiss me already!

"So," he asks, and I feel torn between wanting to shut him up and hear what he has to say. "I'm not scaring you away? Erin, you're a runner. Something scares you or bothers you and you run away." His hand grips my shoulder hard as he goes on, "And I've become the type that that's my biggest fear. Please don't do what you did last Friday and last night. If you have a problem, _talk_ to me, don't run!" His free hand reaches up to cup my cheek, and I can't help but feel that it's another way of holding onto me.

I go from mentally begging him to kiss me to wanting him to back away for a minute. _This_ scares me. He's clinging, and I don't know if I can live up to the expectations or hopes he has. I can guess, probably correctly, that he's so happy he's finally found someone that he really loves, and he'll hold onto that at almost any cost. _He's staring at me like_ that _again,_ I think as I slowly reach up and trace his chin, neck and collarbone with my fingertips. _Okay, worst case scenario: what if I end up hurting him? What if I_ am _just using him as a rebound? Yes, I say I'm falling in love with him, but what if I'm really not? What if I only just want him because he makes me forget 'he who must not be named'?_

I should've seen this coming, but I'm still a little surprised when he kisses me. The hot tub's timer must've finished because the jets turn off. The silence is deafening. I notice everything around me in a state of hyper-awareness: the sounds of the waves, somebody honking rudely at someone else on the main road a little ways off, but mostly the very-quiet sound of him kissing me slowly and repeatedly. With every single one, I feel like he's telling me 'I love you, I love you' over and over again.

I don't know if I can handle this! He's right. I'm a 'runner.'

Bryce, I'm scared out of my mind right now. I'm scared of hurting you. I'm scared of falling in love and getting hurt again.

I make the smallest movement to pull back, and that makes him hungrily deepen the kiss. His arms wrap around me tightly. My hand rests on his shoulder where it had pushed only seconds before, and I haven't a doubt in my mind that if I went completely limp he'd easily and happily hold me to him exactly like he wants. As it is, I'm resistant. I can't decide whether or not I want to make him stop.

He makes this low moan in the back of his throat, almost like he's saying 'Erin, please just let me kiss you breathless' or something. The thing is, I don't think he wants to stop at just that. I breathe in a quick breath when he suddenly jerks me the rest of the way to him, and I feel my body mold itself up against his. _No, he doesn't want to stop._

I go completely rigid in shock when I feel his right hand, quick as lightning, undo first the top tie and then the one around my torso of my swimsuit top before he reaches around and effortlessly pulls it away. _Oh my god._

The act of pulling my swimsuit top away causes him to loosen his hold of me for a moment, and I succeed in pulling away. Thank goodness, my hair does a good job in covering me up as I back into the corner of the hot tub seat.

He swings around in front of me with this no-nonsense expression in his eyes. I feel shock and a jolt of adrenaline when he suddenly places his hands on my knees and pushes them apart before he moves forward to kiss me again. I've started shaking, and I can't stop.

We twist around, and he sits once again on the bench in the hot tub while I'm turned towards him. With one hand under my right knee, he pulls me close to him, and I'm startled as I feel my nipples graze his chest.

I say his name in shock when he leaves my mouth, traveling downward before I reach my hand up to try and halt the movement of _his_ hand as he's obviously going for the ties to the bottom of my bikini. Our fingers have a miniature war of their own down at my hip.

After a forceful exhale, he lifts his head up and brings his wayward hand up to hold the back of my neck. His thumb draws a line back and forth along the back of my jaw up to my ear and back again as he asks, "Is this too fast?"

"Yes," I answer automatically. I swallow and watch his eyes rake over me as his hand starts moving up and down my neck.

"I wish it wasn't because I desperately want to make love to you right now, Erin," he says, and then those brown eyes pierce straight into me.

_Holy shit!_ I work on breathing, just breathing because that's all I can handle right now.

The hand on the back of my neck moves me towards his mouth so he can passionately attack my lips with his. As he continues to kiss me and hold me to him, shock courses through me as the hand that had been holding my back slips down and makes quick work of one side of my bikini bottom. I make a sound of protest and try to move away as my hands reach down to try and stop him from undoing the other side. _Bryce, I told you!_

I succeed in stopping his hand, but now I'm worried he'll try again the second he thinks that I think he's given up. That same hand reaches around to my butt to pull me back towards him, slipping underneath the half-off suit.

He leaves my mouth again and kisses me along my jaw as he mumbles, "Why? You're not a virgin, are you?"

I now have a hand on that misbehaving one of his that's under my suit so that I'll know if he goes for the last remaining tie I have. I feel his fingers working at gathering up the string as it floats free in the water behind me.

"Are you?" he asks again, this time incredulously.

Distracted by the little battle going on behind me, I answer, "No."

"Then why?" he asks, now pulled up so he can watch my face and the mild irritation there. His wayward hand stops its gathering, probably because it possess the entire string now. I feel the string from the front floating against my thigh. His entire focus is on my expression as he waits for my answer.

"I made a promise to myself."

"Oh yeah, you mentioned something like that last night. What do you mean?" he asks, kisses my cheek slowly a few times, and pulls back again to listen for my response.

I suddenly want to cry. I feel ridiculous! Here's a man that says he's in love with me and wants to _make_ love to me, but I'm worried that he's just going to add me to a long list of women he's had. Who knows if he hasn't pulled this same set of lines with a million other women? I feel his hand let go of the string.

"Erin?" he asks, his voice full of concern as now both hands cup my face.

I try to jerk out of his grasp, but he holds me fast. I know exactly what he'll say if I tell him about my promise to myself. He'll think it's ridiculous and that I should just drop it.

"Please tell me what's wrong," he requests. "I refuse to let you run."

"Oh, you refuse?" I ask angrily. I feel cornered.

He closes his eyes for a long second, obviously not happy with what I said. He answers, "That's right, because I want you to _tell_ me ... whatever it is that probably is the reason you ran last night as well. What is the promise? A promise to yourself to not let me make love to you?" I look away and don't answer for a while before he asks, "That's it isn't it?"

I still don't answer. _He keeps just calling it making love and nothing else._

He takes a deep breath and says, "You don't trust me. ... Of course you don't. There is absolutely nothing I can do to make you trust me right now. And you won't until you do." He lets go of my face, and I hide it in my hands.

In the back of my mind, I think that I might want to move away, but I don't. Instead, I say "For at least a week" in a small voice.

"A week? Why a ...? Oh," he answers his own question. "I told you that things are different with you."

"I decided this before you said that," I say, my hands still covering my face.

He's quiet for several minutes. I'm scared to move even though I really feel like it would be a good idea if I did.

I feel his hands lightly tugging on my wrists, trying to pull my hands away. When I let him, I realize they're wet with tears that I didn't even know I shed. I look him in the eyes for a split second before I look away, but I still catch the undeniable look of loving devotion in his eyes.

He reaches up and wipes my cheeks with his thumbs as he holds my face again. "You're driving me insane, but whether or not you believe me, I _do_ understand why you would make that kind of promise to yourself." He pauses. "Okay. A week. I'll prove it. I could possibly go longer, but I doubt it to be perfectly honest."

"I'm sorry," I whisper.

I look up at him to see a grin cover his face again as he says, "There you go apologizing for things that need no apology."

I can't keep the little smile from showing up on my face as I slightly roll my eyes. Then I jump a little as I'm startled when he kisses me again. He's every bit as passionate as he was before.

Not much time passes before he pulls back so that he can say, "However, if you think for one minute I'm letting you leave this hot tub yet, then you're mistaken." _Huh?_ "Because now," he makes me jump as he succeeds in pulling the last string loose on my bikini, "I have you naked, and I intend to make as much of that as I'm allowed to."

He's distracted by pulling my swimsuit bottom out of the hot tub to throw it against the wall of the house, so I dart away from him in the direction of a towel I had laid out earlier. He catches my arm when I get halfway across the hot tub.

"Bryce, this has gone far enough. Too far even. I can't handle this right now!" I exclaim as he joins me in the middle of the hot tub. He's on his knees with his arms wrapped around my middle as I squirm to get free. I'm overly aware of everywhere my body touches his, and that's way too many places for my comfort level right now.

"Erin, calm down, okay?!" _Calm down. He wants me to calm down when I'm completely naked in his arms. Yeah, right!_ "What can't you handle exactly?" he asks with one hand caressing my face. I'm hyperventilating.

"I want at least the bottom half of my suit back," I say in a stern voice.

"You want me to surrender the battle I just won?" he asks. _Oh my god, he thought of it as a battle too. Well, I'm winning the war._

"Please. I'm very uncomfortable right now. You asked me to tell you when I had a problem with something. Well, now I do," I say, trying not to panic and staring into his eyes pleadingly.

He takes a deep breath and says, "Okay." Then he lightly kisses my lips before turning to exit the hot tub. He's only out for a couple of steps to and from the suit bottoms, but when he turns, I see how far his suit sticks out from him _there_. I have to quickly look away before more panic sets in.

In a flash, he's back with my suit in his hand. He hands it to me, and I awkwardly put it back on with a square knot on each tie. I can feel him watching me as I do this, but I don't look up to see for sure if my suspicion is correct. I want to curl up into a ball and hide.

"Thank you," I say lamely and look at the water as I stay on my knees in the middle of the tub.

He moves into my line of vision and grasps my face to lift it so I'm looking at his as he asks, "Can you handle me kissing you?"

_What does he mean?_ "What do you mean? Of course I can handle that."

"Just making sure," he answers before he kisses me again. I'm treated to what will heretofore be referred to as a 'Bryce kiss,' which is a kiss that starts out sweet and simple and gradually grows in intensity until I get to a point to where I'm only able to just desperately hold onto him as he devours me from the inside out.

He stops kissing me to ask, "What about this?" His hand moves to my breast and his thumb starts teasing my nipple as I try to catch my breath. What he's doing right now isn't helping me. "Hmm?" he asks again.

_Son of a bitch, let me fucking breathe!_ I think and wonder at my foul-mouthed inner voice. _Oh shit. No, there's nothing wrong with that,_ I think as he toys with me. I hear some strange, wordless noise come out of my mouth unbidden.

"Can I safely assume this is okay?" he irritatingly asks again. "You can nod, you know," he explains to me like I didn't think of that myself. Well, I guess I haven't.

I don't know why, but I can't make myself nod. _Damn his magic hands!_ I think as I struggle for lucid thought.

I see him smile a small smile as he leans in to whisper in my ear, "I think I found another one of those sensitive areas, but this one is no surprise. Still... I wonder..." Then he starts nibbling on my ear again.

I make some sort of 'ah!' sound as a quick yell escapes me. He firmly holds me to him with one hand while the other stays on my breast and his mouth on my ear as I try to thrash around.

"Shh! You'll wake Adele," he says quietly into that same ear.

I'm panting as I reach around to lightly hit him on his back before I hiss, "You should've thought of that before you did that then!"

He smiles and turns to look at me, apparently amused by my mild irritation, before he says, "You never said whether or not that was okay. I mean, I'd like to assume it is, but I need to know, my beautiful Erin."

I throw my hands up in the air before smacking them back down on his shoulders before I say, "Yeah. Fine. Sure." My voice sounds belligerent.

"Okay good," he says quickly.

I gasp in surprise when he suddenly lifts me up, and I feel his tongue trace a path along my breasts before settling on one of my nipples. I shudder as he takes in a lot more than I expect, sucking and teasing me with his tongue. Vaguely, I'm aware he's slipped his hand underneath my swimsuit to grab my ass as a way of holding me up as well. _A week is suddenly a very long time. Holy shit, he's not stopping. Not stopping._

The hand on my butt pulls me closer so that I can feel his erection pressed up against me between my legs. _Swimsuits are on. Thank God. Too tempting otherwise._

Then he moves to the other side and starts rocking me against him. I feel like I'm barely hanging onto my sanity and that I've lost all control over my own body, almost like I'm just his toy as he rolls my hips against him. His tongue continues to tease me as I'm drawn inside his mouth to the point that, combined with the way I'm rocking against him, a vaguely-familiar pressure starts building below my navel. _From just this?!_ I think as I unconsciously get a tight fistful of his hair.

He groans, releases my breast and says, "Shit, Erin, you're so beautiful." My body gets lowered a little into the water again before his mouth claims mine. If he hadn't, I might be ready to scream from frustrated need. _So he intends to torture me because of my decision?_

His left arm wraps around my torso, helping me to remain upright, as his right travels over me. Then, slowly, almost in a questioning manner, that hand slips under my swimsuit from the front. My eyes fly open and find his when he finds that I'm not stopping him. He wears an expression as if to say, 'I'll stop if you really want me to, but I don't want to.' I don't want him to either. My eyes drift closed as I feel two of his fingers enter me.

He leans down to mumble into my ear, "Relax and just let me hold you up."

_Relax? You want me to relax?!_ I think incredulously as I cling to him in desperation, going out of my mind from what his fingers are up to.

His arm tightens around me as he lifts me up off my knees before he whispers, "Relax, baby. Just go limp and let me hold you while I do this. I promise I won't let you go."

_Shit, it's a trust thing. I don't know if I can do that._ I hear myself whimper as he slows down to a crawl. I haven't a doubt he'll be able to hold me, especially in the water, but to actually surrender that much to him might be more than I can do. I whimper again as I fight for control of myself.

"Erin, you're fighting me," he says quietly. _Shit. How the fuck does he know that?_ "Relax and just let me take care of you." _Oh shit! What? Isn't that just the kind of thing I hear in my fantasies? Damn._ My grip of him slackens, and he says, "That's it, baby." I want to cry. Whoever would've thought just surrendering like this would be so damn hard?

With a shaky exhale, I let myself go limp. I'm immediately rewarded. My body weight that the water doesn't take away gets added to the pressure of his hand and fingers, and he increases his tempo.

And I completely lose control over myself.

True to his word, he holds me securely while I feel every nerve ending in my body go haywire. The water swirling around me feels like a warm, wet blanket, and Bryce feels like my anchor to the world. A few times I feel myself wanting to regain some semblance of control over my own body, but Bryce wordlessly discourages me from doing so each time.

I feel myself unconsciously tense up as that same vaguely-familiar tightening sensation builds again. I try to be a good girl and let him keep holding me up, but it gets harder and harder to do that as the pressure builds and builds until I want to scream. If only I could. I do, however, hear myself whisper his name as my hands turn into claws on... his arms... I think.

My hips jerk forward as he simultaneously presses firmly back. Stars explode before my eyes, and I feel my head crash into his chest. He forces me to experience wave after wave of intense aftershocks as I continue to writhe in ecstasy.

Magic hands.

......

When I feel myself start coming back from the land of no thoughts, I feel his arms around me. My head rests on his shoulder, and my arms are around his neck. When I blink, I feel my eyelashes brush up against his arm. His hands start stroking my back.

He leans down and whispers very quietly, "I love you."

_Too damn perfect,_ I think and start crying. _Perfect except for how he's still in need._ I feel myself shake with my quiet sobs.

"Erin?" he asks and pulls back to look down at me. "What is it?" I hate how he sounds worried. Then I hear a quick intake of breath before he says, "Oh shit! I said it aloud. Just ignore me and the things that fly out of my mouth sometimes."

My voice sounds irritatingly whiny as I sniff and say, "No! It's just it's so perfect, or it would be if it weren't for me and my messed up self ruining it. I wish I weren't so fucked up." _Language, Erin,_ I think as I rest my forehead on his chest and try to stop crying.

"You're... not, ... Erin," Bryce says slowly with emphasis on each word, meaning I'm not as fucked up as I think I am. "You're recovering, and I'm the lucky dirtbag that gets to try to help you." He takes a deep breath and squeezes me, and I love the way he feels up against me as our bodies press even closer with every intake of breath.

"Shut up about calling yourself a dirtbag, Bryce. You are not," I say and hear him laugh quietly like he doesn't believe me for a second and is just humoring me by not arguing. _All I'd have to do would be to lift my head a little and I could run my tongue down his collarbone like I wanted to earlier,_ I think to myself. Then I do it.

I hear him breathe in sharply, and his arms tighten around me. _I guess I'll have to hold off on raking my nails across his chest since I'm pressed up on him so tightly._ I make up for it by raking my nails everywhere else. Then I get hold of the waistband of his trunks and work on pulling them down.

His breathing sounds the tiniest bit shaky as his hands run down my arms to aid me. Once they're off, he stops me as I reach for him. _Huh?_ I think as I look up at him in question. _Oh,_ I think next as he pulls me along to the other side of the hot tub so that he can sit on the opposite bench from where we were earlier.

I'd done this loads of times for Sean (and rarely did he ever return the favor), so I'm happy I don't feel at a loss as to what to do. However, this time it's different. I'm doing it because I _want_ to do it, not because I've been coerced and nagged to death about it.

I love this feeling of power I have over him. With something so simple, I've taken this gorgeous, strong man and turned him into putty in my hands.

"Oh god, Erin." He breathes in sharply. "Yes, just like that," he moans, and I smile down at him. He looks up at me as I'm smiling, and only for a split second does he look like he wants to get onto me for grinning like this at him while he's pretty much incapacitated. However, he almost immediately gives up trying to do that and instead lays his head back against the edge of the tub with another moan.

He tightly grips my hips and thighs as his breathing becomes hitched and irregular. I mean, he really has a _tight_ hold on me, and I almost worry I'm going to bruise. I decide not to worry too much about it right now though as I relish the feel of him in my hand.

His hand suddenly grabs mine as he comes and lets out a noise from the back of his throat. While he recovers, I happily rake my nails across his chest like I'd wanted to do earlier. His eyes roll around in his head for a while as I just let my hands wander of their own free will. Then his eyes come around to my face.

Without warning, he gets hold of my upper arm and jerks me against him with this look that I don't understand. His hands fly up to hold my face as he sits up enough to passionately kiss me. I eagerly kiss him back, and he sits us up all the way, wrapping his arms tightly around me as we continue our little tongue tango.

"I so fucking love you," he says after he suddenly jerks back. "Deal with it because I'm going to tell you. Or... I just did. If I don't tell you, I'll explode, and all these little 'I love you' sound bites will come flying out of where I was standing only moments before. So, I've got to let them out from time to time."

In spite of my apprehension, I can't help but giggle at the mental picture he just gave me. _That was kind of gross... but also incredibly romantic._

He laughs along with me for a second before he asks, "Oh, so I'm funny, am I?" Then he doesn't let me answer.

Not much later, we finally get out of the hot tub and wrap towels around us to protect us from the suddenly-chilly wind. As I make my way over to where Bryce threw my swimsuit top, he catches up to me and stops me.

As he reaches up to run his thumb across my cheekbone like he apparently likes to do, he asks, "Will you stay?"

Stay?! .... Stay?! He wants me to stay. With Adele here. Oh crap. How do I answer him?

"I want to..."

"But?" he asks.

"But it's not a good idea, don't you think, with Adele here. She's only barely grasping the idea of me." He sighs sadly, and I continue, "Don't you think that would be too much change for her?"

"Curse you for making sense," he says in an almost irritated manner. "You're right, of course, but that doesn't stop me from wanting it anyway." He smiles a little and looks at me with _that_ look again for a few minutes while I get lost in his eyes. He kisses the tip of my nose gently before he says, "Then I guess you'd better be getting dressed else I just throw you over my shoulder and keep you here against your will." He grins widely as I feel an expression of shock plaster all over my face. "I'm kidding," he says with a grin. I feel a little silly and relieved before he says, "Kinda."

I back away slowly and get my suit, not losing eye contact with him the entire time. It occurs to me that I'm treating him like a wild animal, be it a stupid way to handle a wild animal or not. The way he's looking at me now makes me very nervous.

I open the sliding glass door and dart my way to the bathroom.

When I emerge from the bathroom, he's back to my normal Bryce again. As I finish fastening my watch to my wrist, I take a glance at the time. _Good grief! Three a.m.?_

After we walk outside, I turn to him to say, "It's really late... or early depending on who you are."

"Not so odd for me to be up at this hour. A lot of the time, I get up to see Adele off to school and then go crash out again." He pulls me to him. "Does this mean you're going to sleep late on another one of my days off?" he asks.

"I have to sleep sometime!" I protest.

He suddenly smiles before he says, "Here's an idea: How about I come by your place as soon as Adele is off and on her way to school?"

The thought of groggily making my way to unlock my door when it would probably feel like the middle of the night occurs to me as I ask, "About what time would that be?"

"About seven-thirty."

In four hours. Yes, it's going to feel like the middle of the night.

He must be reading my expression because he says, "Then we could just sleep some more in your bed. We don't have to stay up."

"But I'd have to get up and answer the door, and I'm betting I'm not going to like that," I say, but I really like the idea he has. "I guess I'll just get over it though."

He takes in a deep breath and says, "Good. Although, my bed is going to feel huge without you in it." Even in the darkness, I can see his eyes beg me to stay.

"I'd better go so we can sleep the hours away," I say quietly to his wordless plea before he leans down to kiss me in such a loving manner that afterwards I myself want to blurt out that I love him.

"Well then goodnight," he says quietly.

I have no idea what expression is on my face as I think about how I almost did blurt it out. _What does this mean?_ "Goodnight," I say quickly before he can see too much of whatever expression is on my face.

# Chapter 20: Sleeping Beauty

### Bryce

_I want her to stay,_ I think as we get out of the hot tub.

I've never wanted someone to stay so much in my entire life. Why does she have to make so much damn sense? Adele probably _would_ feel uncomfortable if she got up in the morning to find that Erin stayed.

While I wait for her to change into her regular clothes, I lean up against the wall in the hallway. It's almost more than I can stand. She's in there putting clothes _on_ when all I want to do is break the door down and rip them back off her. _She was wearing those white shorts of hers again that she wore the day I first met her ... when I couldn't take my eyes off her._

Then, that loose shirt drove me crazy with hope that it would slip just enough while she bent down to scratch her shin ... and the one she wore today only made it worse.

I like those shorts. It'd be a shame to rip them to shreds.

She walks out of the bathroom ... finally, and she smiles a little at me. I work hard at hiding that I just want to run up to her, throw my arms around her, and beg her to stay. At first, I _had_ been kidding about throwing her over my shoulder, but then the idea sounded more and more appealing as every second went by. Instead of doing what I really want to do, I follow her out the front door.

I can't help but mention how empty my bed will feel tonight, and I inwardly chastise myself for acting so desperate ... again. If _I_ had come across a girl that acted remotely clingy this soon after I'd decided to screw around, I'd never call her back and make myself scarce... that or sic Jesse on her since he likes that kind of thing.

_I'm going to scare her away. Yeah, she may claim it's okay and she's 'elated,' but if she really knew how I really want her to_ always _be around, she'd freak out and run. I know I would._

I just need to cool it.

But...

Cool it, Bryce.

I cannot for the life of me stop this overwhelming surge of emotion towards her as I hold her to me and kiss her. I'm so happy. I wish she felt the same for me, but I'll just have to repeatedly remind myself she's still recovering. She not at the same 'place' that I am.

When I almost-unwillingly pull up from kissing her, the way she looks up at me as the light from the front porch hits her face makes me want to capture it in my hands before she can turn away and hide her expression. _What was that? What was that look?_ If I didn't know any better, and I better not get my hopes up, it looked like she ... _No. Don't even think it. It was just a trick of the light._

I can't wait until tomorrow morning.

After seeing Adele off to school, flashbacks from early this morning play randomly through my head as I walk over to Erin's house. I decide to walk instead of drive because, although I can't wait to see her, I need to think.

What am I doing? I can't go a few hours without seeing her? What the hell is wrong with me? Yeah, I love her, but ...

I guess I just don't remember being like this with Ashley. This is that infatuation phase I hear about.

No. It's got to be more than that. I don't want this feeling to end. I want to guide her through dealing with what happened to her, and then I want... I hope... I don't want this to end. Ever.

I stop and stare blankly at the trees in front of me. Erin's house is just barely noticeable between the foliage.

_What the fuck? How has this happened so fast?_ I think, now standing perfectly still next to the diner. I look up at her house. _I met her a week ago today, and I'm already wanting to spend my life with her._

_This is way too fast... but I'll worry about that later,_ I think as I walk up her front porch steps, happy I'm finally going to get to see her.

As I lift my hand to knock, her face appears in the little window in the door. I can't help but smile at her expression. _I guess she's not much of a morning person._

"Hi," she says sleepily before she turns around and walks into her bedroom, leaving me to close her door and lock it back. I stifle a chuckle before I happily follow her.

By the time I get in here, she's already thrown herself onto the bed and curled somewhat into a ball. Since her eyes are closed, I don't hide my silly grin in response to her grumpiness as I remove my shirt and shoes.

"What are _you_ grinning about?" she mumbles with one eye open.

As I climb into bed next to her, I say, "You're not much of a morning person, are you?"

"I told you I'd be groggy," she says as I stroke her face adoringly. More flashbacks hit me of our time in the hot tub. _Holy shit, that was so damn good... if I can't have the real thing, that is._

I want to kiss her, but she curls herself into me with her head on my chest, and I'm not about to stop her from doing this. I wrap my arms around her and replay the image of her walking in front of me on her way to the bedroom a few moments ago in what she's wearing right now: only a tiny tank top and underwear. Not quite as mind-boggling as seeing her in her bikini; this image has more of a comfy, domestic feel to it. I love her in both, but I think I like _this_ more. This is more ... her. I get mildly irritated at the growing strain of the fabric of my shorts. _Great,_ I think sarcastically. _Hm, maybe I shouldn't have thought about how fucking sexy she is right now._

I sigh and hold her tighter. Then I feel her eyelashes move against my chest as she must have opened her eyes, probably concerned about my physical state.

_Shit, Erin. Please don't make a big deal about this. I'm fine, mostly thanks to you,_ I think and stifle the desire to moan with the memory washing over me. _Maybe..._

No. She's going to think that's all I'm after all the time.

......

No, I'm not.

"Bryce?"

Shit. Don't say my name right now.

I take a deep breath before I ask as innocently as possible, "Yeah?" I happily start running my fingers through her hair, wondering if I can grab a handful of it gently enough to tilt her head up so I can kiss her.

"I'm tired," she says stiffly. "I want to sleep."

"Okay. I know that," I say as reassuringly as I can while holding back the urge to roll her onto her back and get all over her. "I can hold you while you sleep, right?"

She tilts her head up and pierces me right through with those fantastic eyes of hers before she says in an almost irritated manner, "But it's obvious you want more than just that."

_Damn it._ I can't stop myself from leaning down and claiming her lips. Just for... a minute. That's all, but I make the most of this minute.

"Sleep, my" _achingly_ "beautiful Erin." _I like calling her that._ "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" she asks.

_No._ "Yes." _Liar._ "Well, ... I will be. Don't worry about it." She looks up at me doubtfully. "Erin, please close your eyes and go to sleep." _Please, close your eyes before I can't control myself._

Thankfully, she does as I request with a small, content sigh, and I settle in for a few precious hours of holding her close to me. It's not long before I can guess she's really gone to sleep. I very carefully adjust my position so that I can just look at her.

I have a hard time stopping myself from petting her face. I worry I might wake her up doing that, and then she'd catch me staring at her. I can tell it makes her uncomfortable when I stare at her like this, so I lie here and relish every second, memorizing every nuance of her features.

I'm so very happy right now. I don't think I've been this happy for a long time.

I'd like to think I was this happy when I saw Adele for the first time, but to be perfectly honest, I was scared shitless.

I'm lying in bed with a beautiful woman that I'm falling in love with, and I get to stare at her without her feeling uncomfortable about it. So simple, and I'm ridiculously happy.

I want so bad to kiss her, but that would wake sleeping beauty up.

.....

Erin, you hold my heart in your hands. Yes, it's battered and bruised, so be gentle with it.

......

Listen to me. I've gone all mushy and stuff. Jesse would laugh his head off if he knew. Well, he doesn't have to find out. I'm safe inside my own head.

_She's incredibly beautiful, and I'm looking at her with her eyes_ closed _. I guess this is good because if they were open, they'd be all I see. Well, until she turns around. Then it would just be her ass. I doubt I've ever seen one more perfect._

My hand carefully slides down over that scrumptious derriere. I smile a little when I realize I did it without waking her up. This doesn't help the re-occurring situation in my shorts, but I don't care as I revel in my victory. I smile and close my eyes as I rest my head back on the pillow.

### Erin

I notice first the sound of heavy breathing as I slowly wake up.

Bryce.

I already know his smell. This causes me to smile contently as I open my eyes. He's out cold. Well, he's actually very warm but yeah.

_His ... hand is on my butt,_ I realize and decide to let it go. I let my gaze drift over this Adonis that sleeps soundly in my bed next to me. I want to run my fingers through his chest hair, but that might wake him up. Instead, I just lie here and study him.

_He looks so innocent when he's asleep. He's just_ him _, not the boy that got a girl pregnant too young or the man who's wife left him and their five-year-old daughter. He looks so calm and peaceful and gorgeous. I wonder if I kiss him right now will he wake up?_

I can't help myself, so I tilt my head up and do just that.

I'd intended to just give him a quick peck, but he wakes up _fast_ and throws his hand around the back of my neck to hold me to him before rolling over on top of me.

He moans as his hand slides down my side to grab my butt inside my underwear. My heart pounds in my ears from the surprise of his quick reaction as I quickly try to play catch-up. He doesn't act like he's going to wait for me.

I make a small noise of protest when he pulls his hand off my butt only to grab hold of my underwear at the hip and attempt to pull them down. It takes me a few seconds to get my hand down to my hip to attempt to make him stop. He starts having trouble with the other side and makes a noise of aggravation. When my hand _finally_ makes it down there, I immediately get hold of his. He doesn't quit trying to take them off, so I slap his hand.

"What?" he asks with a roguish grin.

"Don't play dumb with me. You know exactly why I did that," I scold him. My voice sounds harsh, but I know he can see my eyes smiling at him.

He laughs deep in his chest before he says, "Well Erin, don't blame me for trying."

I make an exasperated growl and bury my face in his chest. _He's so warm and wonderful_ , _and he smells so damn good,_ I think as I feel his chest hair tickle my cheeks. I bring one hand up to lightly run my fingertips along his stomach.

"You're not helping," he says quietly, and I smile wickedly.

His cell phone suddenly buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it.

"Shouldn't you answer that?" I ask.

"No. I'm asleep," he answers and winks at me.

"What if it's the bar?" I ask.

"Unless it's burning to the ground, I don't care right now," he says in a matter-of-fact manner. His phone stops buzzing, and he starts kissing me again.

The phone buzzes again followed by a growl from Bryce.

"Sorry. Apparently, they're not going to leave me alone," he says apologetically. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and does a double-take as he looks at it. "What could _he_ want?" he asks to the air.

"Hey, Desmond," he says simply.

I lie back on the bed and close my eyes as I listen to his voice.

"You did _what_?!!" he suddenly exclaims as he stands up abruptly from the bed. He starts pacing as he says, "Yeah, but I didn't _ask_ for your help with that. .... France? Why the hell .... Well there's nothing I can do about it now, is there? ..... No. I'll be the judge of that. ..... Well you should've thought of that _before_ you went behind my back and said this girl had the job! .... Does she even _have_ any experience? .... Fabulous," he says sarcastically. "Yes, I know, but .... Fine," he growls. ".... Fine. See you tomorrow." He angrily ends the call and tosses the phone on the bed before he glares at it like he blames it for whatever is bothering him. Then he runs his hands through his hair angrily as I debate whether or not I'm going to ask him what the call was about.

He sees the question in my expression as he glances up at me and says, "Apparently, Desmond took it upon himself to find me a new waitress, and she's flying in from France _tomorrow_. The girl just graduated from school last spring and has never even had a job before." He takes a breath. "Shit!" he suddenly yells. "Desmond, you are such a prick!"

"Why did he do this?" I ask, trying to catch up. _France. My cousin grew up there. Same age even._

"He owes a favor to her dad, and I owe a _huge_ favor to him. Well, I'm _paying_ it now!" he yells at his phone. "I can still fire the kid if I want to!" He works at calming down. Then he looks at me and says, "Let's go computer shopping." He leaves the bedroom, and I hear the shower turn on.

# Chapter 21: Cat Scratch Fever

We arrive at a store that Bryce says sells 'everything,' and we find Lynne and Troy there. She and Bryce immediately start up talking, and we find out her stove bucked the kickit. Troy is supposedly helping her shop. The hopeless romantic in me immediately picks up on the fact that he definitely likes her likes her. She acts like she's still a little stunned, if she knows. Surely she knows. Surely she's not that blind. Troy catches me watching him closely, and I immediately duck my head. I feel a mite ridiculous, but I like to try and figure people out from a distance.

Lynne walks up to me, leaving Troy and Bryce. Bryce actually looks a little happy about this because I get the feeling there's something he's dying to tell just Troy.

"I wanted to apologize to you if I acted a little rude the other morning," Lynne tells me. I quickly look over at her, and she's smiling a little like she noticed my eyes have hardly left Bryce at all. _Am I that obvious? Heh_ , _kind of like Troy is with her... in fact, he's still staring._

I nervously rub my arm with my other hand as I say, "Oh, don't worry about it. I get it now. I'd be pretty pissed too if someone were to just mess with someone like that. Or something... you know what I mean."

She smiles kindly again and says, "Yes, I know what you mean."

We talk for a little while, and I wonder what Bryce and Troy start laughing about. I can't figure it out. Then, the second I hear Jesse's name mentioned, I tune them out.

I buy a laptop! I'm happy I can now write outside if I want to.

When we get to my house, Bryce carries my new laptop in, and I help him take the old one out to chuck it in the garbage can. As I'm walking back up to my front porch steps, this beautiful cat comes trotting up to me.

I immediately start gushing. I always loved my mom's cats. "Hey sweetie! Aren't you just adorable?" I crouch down to pet it.

"Erin, you don't know where that thing's been," Bryce says with a note of apprehension.

"Don't worry about it, Bryce. Cats are clean. Certainly cleaner than dogs."

"Until you take into account toxoplasmosis, cat scratch fever, ringworm, oh, and don't forget rabies," he says dryly.

"Cat scratch fever?" I ask, turning to him in disbelief, ready to laugh. The cat rubs against my legs and meows up at me.

Bryce grins widely. "Yeah, it's more than just an awesome song."

"I think she's fine," I say and bend down to pick her up.

"Erin... that's a really bad idea. You don't know where it's been. And how do you know it's a 'she'?"

"She doesn't smell like a male."

"Just what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Male cats stink," I say then turn the cat around in my arms. _She's obviously not feral._ I show him the cat's backside. "And see?" I only grin when Bryce shows me a very annoyed expression.

"How do you know she's not already somebody else's cat?" he asks, and I ignore the way he looks on disapprovingly as I snuggle the cat.

"I don't. If anyone reports her missing, I'll give her to them. Until then..." I look at the cat as I say, "Let's go see if we have any tuna." I smile as she starts purring. Bryce walks over to pick up the paper as I carry the cat inside. I can tell he's not happy, but he's not saying anymore on the subject.

He sits down and starts reading the paper as I feed the cat that I've decided to dub "Miley" since she's probably walked miles and miles alone and now has found me. She was lonely and then she found me, and I love that.

After Miley eats, I walk over to my new computer to get it set up. I steadfastly ignore Bryce's almost-pouting attitude. Miley trots up to him and flops herself right next to him on the couch. I see in the reflection of the glass that he glances before he flicks the paper open more and ignores her.

Disapproval rolls off him in waves, but he doesn't say anything. _You can't stop me from getting a cat if I want one, Bryce, and I think I want one._

I guess Miley decides she's given up on getting any attention from Bryce and gets up to eat some more. Bryce folds the newspaper as I get a whole bunch of updates going.

He's still really quiet. I can _feel_ him staring at me before I glance up at the glass again to see that he is.

I'm starting to get aggravated, so I just give up and close my new laptop.

"What," I say after I stand up and walk over to stand in front of him.

"Are you going to do that all day? It's my day off, and you're sitting at the computer again," he says, sounding a little hurt.

_Oh. Crap._ I think as my mind quickly flies from how I looked sitting there to how he saw it - to that making him think of his ex-wife - to him saying he was jealous of his computer yesterday because it got all my attention.

"Bryce, if you wanted me to let it wait 'til later, why didn't you just say so?" I ask him and move to sit next to him on the couch.

In what I'm sure is a well-practiced move, he purposefully trips me as he slides over to where I would land on the couch, catching me before I would land too hard. _Holy shit, he's a little too good. Now why the heck do I like it?_

"I want you to let it wait 'til later," he says huskily while simultaneously pulling me closer.

_I am in very great danger of falling so hopelessly in love with him that I'll never be able to even function properly should he leave me._ I don't wait for him to kiss me but reach up to hold the back of his head as I kiss him. It takes him about half a second to respond as he clutches me even closer. I try to match the energy with which he kisses me, but every time I come close he asks for more. I think the fact that I kissed him took him by surprise, and he's trying to figure out how I feel in a single kiss. _Good luck with that. I wish I knew, really._

Both of us a little breathless, he pulls back to say with almost a sense of regret, "Adele will be home soon."

"Okay."

"You're coming over, right?" he asks, and he actually looks worried for a second that I'll say no.

I look back at him with a confused grin as I answer, "Of course I am."

He smiles, and I tell my heart to cool it. _That reminds me..._

I wanted to try out his pool yesterday, so I bring along a swimsuit again today. I go swimming while Bryce fixes us something to eat.

We'd both forgotten that Adele had that study group today, but we both decide to not get caught in the same situation as yesterday. I don't stay out at the pool long; I just wanted a quick dip anyway.

Once I'm halfway through the kitchen on my way to the bathroom to change back out of my suit, I hear Bryce ask, "You didn't honestly expect to just waltz right past me, did you?"

I turn to him in shock just as he collides with me, the lunch/dinner he'd been preparing now laying forgotten on the counter.

"Bryce!" I squeal before his lips silence mine.

He picks me up and carries me over to sit me on the washing machine he has in his kitchen. Moving one of my legs aside, he steps between them and kisses me again, pulling my hips right up to him. My feet are just dangling, and I have the strangest urge to swing them back and forth like a little girl. I decide to wrap my legs around him instead.

"You're killing me, Erin," he says almost cryptically before he starts down my neck.

I feel a little chilly having just come into the air conditioning still wet from the pool. This only makes the warmth from his traveling magic hands feel warmer, and I want them everywhere.

He groans and wraps his arms tight around my waist before he picks me up and carries me out of the kitchen into the hallway.

"Bryce, Adele..." I say, and we hear the front door close. _Great,_ I think sarcastically. "... will be home soon," I lamely finish. I feel his breath whoosh on my still-damp chest as he lets out a huff and puts me down. I turn around, greet Adele, and disappear into the bathroom between us. _What must she think of me?_

As I get dressed in the bathroom, I can't help but overhear their conversation about the weekly picnic.

_This is something they need to do just the two of them,_ I think as I watch Adele's shoulders slump when I come out of the bathroom. _Bryce, stop trying to come up with reasons to not do it._

Adele relents about not having the picnic this week and walks upstairs, trying to hide how sad she is from me and mostly failing.

"Bryce..." I start to tell him what I'm thinking, but he obviously wants to try to pick up from where we were a minute ago. I'm still a little cold, and his hands feel marvelous. Still, the look on Adele's face haunts me.

When he starts heading for second base, I stop him and pull back to say, "I should go."

"What?! Why?" he asks, and the look in his eyes just makes me want to stay so I can erase it. "I have the evening off. I have to work tomorrow. I want you to stay."

"Yes, you have the evening off, which is why you should spend it with Adele. Tomorrow, she goes to Pam's. You can see me in the morning. I'll come over okay?" I say, and he still has that worried look in his eyes. "Bryce, please don't look at me like that."

"But it's too late in the evening for a picnic. I told her... I'll make it up to her Saturday."

I shake my head no. "Then find some place well-lit and have a dinner picnic. You _can't_ ," I shake him a little, "make a change like this right now. That is her special time with you, and I interrupted last week's enough."

"I love you," he says really fast, and I let out a mildly-surprised squeak as his lips attack mine.

I think... I'm really going to miss him even though I know I'm going to see him tomorrow.

"I'll be over as soon as I can," I say.

"Thank you," he says, and I don't understand what he means.

After I ask him to explain, he says, "I was about to blow it big time with my daughter, and you stopped me... again." He looks like he's mentally berating himself as he says, "I feel like such an idiot! How come I don't think of these things?"

_Because you're a guy,_ I think real fast. Instead of saying that, I say, "Because you have other things on your mind." I grin at the look he gives me. "Don't worry about it. You're a great daddy." I lean in to kiss him real slow, and for once, he doesn't hurry me along.

Before I can give in to the crazy urge I have to tell him how I feel, which would surely make him stop me from leaving, I slowly pull back and say goodbye for the night.

On my way home, I shake a little from worry about what's happening to me.

This is happening so fast. It's still a little soon after the asshole. Could I really be in love with him?

He's no saint, but neither am I.

I can't wrap my head around my own thoughts as I fix myself some cereal for dinner, leaving my computer running the updates.

_At last, I'll be able to sit outside in the great outdoors to write my book. Well, rewrite my book,_ I think as I get ready for bed. Already a little tired, I lie down and wait for sleep to come to me.

Suddenly, I sit bolt upright in bed and yell out, "Shit!" Then I place my hands over my face. _My book is still open on Bryce's computer!_

### Bryce

After my picnic with Adele, she runs upstairs to talk on the phone with one of her friends.

I'm bored.

I miss Erin.

You're pathetic.

What would've I done tonight if I hadn't have met her?

_Go out looking for a party with Jesse, dropping Adele off at Pam's. Last week... just_ last week _I did that. Only... I was looking for Erin and not really expecting to find her._

_So now what?_ I think and run my hand down my face.

I really have no idea what to do with myself. I don't watch prime time television since I work most of the time during this time of day. I shrug and head up the stairs, hoping a round of 'Plants vs Zombies' will pass the time adequately enough.

_I knew this would happen. She pretty much asked me for space._ _My acting so needy is making her push me away. Hell, it's what I'd do._

I sit down in my computer chair and fidget as I sit here thinking _. I hate this. I hate needing her, but I do. I fucking love her._ I reach down to turn on my computer, and I expect to immediately have to type in my password. I then realize that Erin was the last one to use it, and she'd never logged out since we got ... distracted. We'd not set up a password protection for her for some reason.

_It's ... her book ... right in front of me,_ I think as I stare unthinking at the words on the screen, not reading them.

_She asked me not to read it._

I look down and fidget a little more. It's like forbidden fruit.

I can't resist. I hit control-home to get to the top. _She doesn't have to know, and I'm insanely curious._

Three years had passed since Lance's wife's death, leaving him with their only daughter, Amy, to raise alone.

Wait, what?!

# Chapter 22: Invasion of Privacy

I sit here and quickly read through an entire page as the story of a single father unfolds before me, and I have an ache form in my chest more and more with every word I read.

_She's been writing .... me. It's not exactly me. Not really. Ashley didn't die in a drunk driving accident._ I snort. _Hardly. Still..._

I read on a little more as this "Lance" guy meets some woman... at a city park. My hands angrily run through my hair.

It's well written. I can see the whole story unfold in my mind since it's just descriptive enough to give me the picture without getting bogged down in the details.

_But it's_ my _life! Kinda. There are things that Lance does that I wouldn't do._

"Daddy?" I hear from the other side of the bedroom door.

I walk over and open it. "Yeah?" I ask, trying not to sound agitated.

"I'm going to bed now," she says, looking at me too similarly to the way Ashley used to look at me as she calculated a way to get me to say what's on my mind.

I want to scream and fall to the floor, curled up in a ball. Of course, I don't.

Instead, I stand here and try not to see my ex-wife in the little girl in front of me. I don't understand exactly what I'm feeling, but I know that being pissed off is part of it... hurt might be another.

"Okay," I say simply, my voice just a little bit higher than normal as I work hard to hide my feelings.

"Daddy, what's wrong?" she asks.

"Nothing. Don't worry about it," I say quickly.

"You know, if you want to have Erin spend the night, I'm okay with it. I mean... well... that's not saying I really _expect_ it to happen. It's just... well... um... I can tell that..." She groans in aggravation, and now she looks like me, thank God. "I just want you to be happy," she finishes out real fast.

She guessed wrong about what is making me so upset though.

_Oh God, my heart is breaking._ Adele is still standing there staring up at me as I try not to come apart at the seams.

"Good night, Adele," I say to make her leave me alone.

"Daddy, please tell me what's wrong!" she demands as she follows me to the computer. She stands right next to me as I push the power button. I can't look at it anymore.

"Good night, Adele," I say again, this time heavily implying that she needs to leave.

"Fine!" she snaps and slams my door on the way out.

I turn out all the lights and stare at the ocean outside on my balcony.

She came here to escape, to run away. She came here to become a writer. She didn't come here to get in another relationship.

_But she found one hell of a story in the meantime,_ I think and let out a painful exhale.

"Say it, Bryce. Come out and say it," I say aloud. "She doesn't love you. She's studying you, and you keep getting too close, so she pushes you away." _She even admitted that I helped her get an idea to fix a more recently-written part._

This _is why she didn't want me to read it. She doesn't want me to know. I think that's what gets me the most. She's been doing this behind my back._

I wonder when she started it.

I stand here on the balcony, not thinking much anymore, just feeling the pain engulf me. I'd let her in... someone I hardly knew. I'm a fool. I'm nothing to her but a character for her book.

After several minutes, I guess, of this, I walk back inside and lie down on my bed fully clothed.

_"If you want Erin to spend the night, I'm okay with it,"_ Adele's voice echoes in my mind. That was awkward ... and a little late. _Erin..._

Okay, so what now? Do I admit to her that I read it anyway without her permission? Do I try to keep going like nothing is wrong? Is that even possible?

_I don't want to try to pretend I don't know what's going on. I'm going to confront her with this, admit that I read it._ I'm _not going to play like there's not something else going on here._

I wonder what she'll say.

### Erin

_I have to get to Bryce's computer!_ I think as I wake up at six a.m. I methodically eat my cereal, take a shower, and get dressed. _Seven thirty. Adele has left for school._ I go get on my scooter.

I knock on his door, trying to act calm.

He answers the door wearing nothing but some pajama pants and leans against the door, looking good enough to eat as I take in his muscular chest that's bare down to his pants where they rest low on his hips. "Hi," he says stiffly before he walks back towards the kitchen, leaving the door open for me.

Confused, I close the door behind me and follow him into the kitchen. I smell pancakes, and they smell better than what I had for breakfast.

"Um, I need to go close out my book on your computer, if you don't mind," I say quietly. I decided to just come right out and say it.

"That's fine. You know where it is," he says simply, not looking at me. Warning bells sound in my head. Something is wrong. I decide to figure it out _after_ I get my book closed out. I can't think about anything else until I do that.

I get upstairs and turn on the computer. Just as I expect, there's my book. However ... it's not where I left off. Cold apprehension fills my veins. Bryce is in some kind of mood; my story isn't where I left it. _Oh no._ I close out the book and turn the computer back off before I quickly make my way back downstairs.

I find Bryce sitting at the table and staring off into space with his breakfast in front of him. He doesn't appear to notice me. "Bryce?" I ask.

"Yeah?" he asks, still not looking at me. He's hardly touched his pancakes.

"Um..." _What do I say? How do I tell him that my book wasn't where I left it off?_ My hands start shaking. He still won't look at me. "What's wrong?" I finally ask.

He stands up, picks up his plate, proceeds to dump the mostly-uneaten food in the trash, and places his plate in the sink. He turns around and leans back against the counter with his arms folded and a blank mask on his face like he's made of uncaring stone. Finally, his empty eyes turn to me, and dread fills my being. He looks like he's trying to figure out how to say something.

He shrugs ever so slightly before he says, "I read it." Then he stands there and obviously waits for my reaction.

My voice sounds weak as I say, "I asked you not to."

"I couldn't resist." The Bryce I thought I knew would've surely smiled here, but he doesn't. I feel a lump forming in my throat. "I turned on my computer to pass the time playing a game so that time would fly because I missed you, and there it was. Such interesting characters your book has. Engaging storyline. However did you come up with that plot?" he says, his voice taking on more and more sarcasm.

I feel all the air leave my lungs. Somehow, I manage to eke out, "I started it the day I met you at the park. Your situation intrigued me, and I thought it would make a good story."

"It's well written. Might even be a bestseller," he says dryly, his compliment falling flat.

"Bryce... please don't think-"

"What? That you're only dating me because you want to study me for the book?!" I shake my head no, but he keeps going. "What kind of sick person does that?"

The tears that had been threatening finally spill over. "That's not why I'm dating you! Lance isn't even really _you_ anyway!"

"Sure seems like me in the beginning at least!" he yells back. Then, his voice is normal volume as he asks, "Then why _are_ you dating me anyway?"

"I told you this already that day on the beach. I'm starting to ... " I can't finish the sentence. I hate the way he's standing there with his arms folded, coldly glaring at me.

"Well?" he prods when I haven't said anything for a little bit.

"Because I'm falling in love with you, you asshole!" I throw at him and walk out of the kitchen. I can hardly see where I'm going for the tears.

"Wait," I hear him say quickly while he exits the kitchen behind me as I walk towards the front door.

I keep walking. He has every right to be mad. I took his situation and turned it into a story. Maybe I'm not cut out to be an author. Maybe Ginger can get me a job at the library.

Arms enfold around me from behind when I've nearly reached the door. "Please wait," he says just before my hands fly to his forearms, and I let out a sob.

With one arm on my waist and the other reaching up to my cheek to turn my head, he turns me around and immediately kisses me.

I can't see for the tears. I'm still lightheaded from hyperventilating, knowing that he'd read my book and that he was angry about it. I feel disoriented from being turned around and immediately kissed.

Another sob escapes me that he stops as he deepens the kiss. The damn tears won't stop falling. I can't get over how I've upset him that the book looks, starts out anyway, like it's taken right out of his life. He reaches up to brush the tears away with his thumbs as he continues to kiss me. I decide that I'm going to delete the whole thing at my first opportunity. _It's all a load of crap anyway, and it certainly isn't worth losing Bryce over._ _Bryce..._ I think as I don't give a shit that I just ended a sentence in a preposition. _Bryce, I love you. I'm so sorry._

He stops kissing me with that sense of desperation and just starts doing it in an almost absentminded manner. My attention is drawn instead to the way he's holding me. His fingers are splayed out like he's trying to touch as much of me as possible while holding me close at the same time. I love how they feel extra warm.

He pulls back just enough so he can say, "I'm sorry I read the book without your permission." His eyes hungrily devour my face.

I shake my head no. "No. _I'm_ sorry I wrote the thing and made it so similar to your life. That's like... almost an invasion of privacy."

The roguish grin that I realize now I desperately missed covers his face as he says, "You can invade my privacy any time you want."

I throw my head back in an exasperated groan yet find myself giggling anyway within seconds. Then I feel his lips on my throat. _My Bryce is back,_ I think as I feel his hand on my butt.

# Chapter 23: Danger

### hidden point of view

I walk up the stairs to the office of the P.I. I hired, wondering if he found anything.

"That was actually quite easy. I wish they all could be that way," the man says after I ask him. He hands me a piece of paper to read before he says, "Residency transfer papers. I guess she didn't have a choice there."

I read the report and see the island she moved to.

"Thank you," I say as I get out my checkbook.

I royally screwed up. In fact, I doubt there could be a way I could've messed things up more thoroughly.

There was always that temptation there... I knew her friend wanted me. Hell, half the cheerleading squad did too, but no one could come close to the quiet, pretty, little blonde sitting in the stands, watching me. I grin in spite of my depression when I remember how thrilled she looked when I asked her out that first time.

My smile is short-lived when I remember how quiet she was for months as I begged for forgiveness. Once she'd finished screaming at me and throwing everything within reach, her silence couldn't have been louder.

If I'd have known _why_ she wanted to sell the house, I never would've given in like that.

I know where to go next: Bill's.

"Hey," he says when he answers my knock. We'd become friends in high school when he played quarterback to my wide receiver. After I graduated, he took the team to state.

"I found her," I say and show him the paper as I walk inside. I've already memorized the address.

"She doesn't want to be found," he says bluntly.

"I thought I'd just let you know what I know what with you being her brother and all."

He sighs. "Thank you. At least I know where she is, but if you go there, she won't be happy to see you. Leave her alone."

"I won't," I say, starting to get mad. I've had it with him trying to tell me to back off and forget it! Forget her? No way in hell am I going to do that.

"She _ran away from you_! If it weren't for you and your fucking things up, she'd still be here," he growls.

"Fuck you. I didn't come over here to listen to this shit again." I get up and grumble about going out of my way to let him know where his sister is only to get chewed out again.

On my way out the door, I hear him say, "Just because I can bear to be in the same room with you, and that's because I've already kicked your ass once, doesn't mean I'm going to just forget all about what you did." I stop, and he keeps talking, "I'm telling you as a friend. Leave her alone. Oh but hey, what do I know, right?" His voice is laced with sarcasm. Then he says, "If her _leaving_ town isn't an obvious 'leave me alone' then nothing I can say will prevent you from it."

I snatch back the paper and say, "Leaving is exactly what I'm doing. I'm going. I still have that leave I was gonna use for our honeymoon. Looks like I'm going on vacation!" I grin to his scowl as I finally exit his house.

### Desmond Lumpkin

I don't know why it is that _I_ have to be the one to go to the airport to pick up Bryce's new waitress. Yeah sure, I'm the contact that got her the job and him the employee, but does that really mean I have to go and get her?

_Because the chit's father saved your skin, and this is the least you can do,_ my inner voice tells me.

_Shut up,_ I tell it back. I hate being indebted to anyone or anything. _I bet the brat doesn't know the first thing about hard work what with growing up rich and spoiled like she probably did._

I can easily picture her in my head. I bet she looks lost and in need of a babysitter, hence the whole reason I have to pick her up in the first place.

I angrily slam the door closed on my Mercedes as I pull away from the office, again wishing Bryce was doing this instead of me.

Once I reach the island's small airport, I stand here and watch the passengers from her flight as they arrive, and I'm holding a sign that says Parren in my hand. I vaguely wonder again what my birth name was. I was two when family services came and took me from my parents before depositing me into the foster care system, and I was never told, not that I cared enough to ask, what it was. The less-than-fabulous Lumpkins adopted me and acted like I should kiss the ground they walked upon for doing so.

I see this tanned blonde girl walk out of the line, looking around, and I vaguely wonder if this is the new waitress. She looks very similar to the way I pictured her except...

She's beautiful.

Why does she have to be beautiful?

She walks up to me with a questioning look in her emerald eyes. "Parren?" she asks.

I immediately feel like being a smart-ass. "That's what the sign says, doesn't it?"

She rolls those eyes of hers and says, "That's okay. I don't need your help. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself." Then she turns and walks away.

"Oh no you don't," I say and reach out for her arm. Immediately, she drops the bag in her hand, spins me around, and has my arm pinned behind my back in a tight hold. Apparently, her father must've taught her the martial arts he knew.

"Miss Parren, your father had my assurance that I would see you safely ensconced at your apartment and introduced to your new boss. Please don't tempt me to go against my word and just leave you here to your own resources," I say quickly and calmly.

People stop to stare at us as she cranes her neck up to snap into my ear, "Well, as you can see, I don't need your help, and I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself." Her hold of my arm is mildly painful, and I haven't a doubt she could break it if she chose to. I am so turned on right now.

"Then let me _ask_ to take you to your new apartment and introduce you to my friend Bryce," I say as politely as I can manage while successfully hiding how much I'm enjoying this -- even with the amused audience of curious tourists.

She releases my arm, and I flex the muscles in it, testing them. _This woman is more than meets the eye._

I turn to pick up the bag she dropped and say, "This way, if you please, Miss Parren."

"I can carry my own bag, thank you," she says as she tries to catch up to my quick pace.

Normally, I would never stoop to this menial task, but I guessed correctly that it would annoy her if I did it. "Nonsense," I reply.

"Who are you anyway?" she asks.

"Desmond Lumpkin," I answer brusquely.

" _You're_ the lawyer?" she asks incredulously.

I stop suddenly to turn and face her. "Yes. Why is that a surprise?" I ask just before she tries unsuccessfully to yank her bag from my hand.

"I'd pictured somebody older," she admits as I again keep the bag from her grasp. "I thought you were just some well-dressed lackey."

I chuckle and say, "Thank you for the compliment on my attire, but no. Your father saved my life, so you're my most important order of business at the moment."

"Huh," she scoffs. She acts like she'd planned on saying more, but something distracts her as I throw her bag into the trunk.

I look up at her after I close the trunk to see her staring at my car. I shrug and climb into the driver's seat.

"So," she nags, "you insist on carrying my bag, but you refuse to open my door for me?"

I smile in spite of the anger she hoped I'd feel. I make a show of getting out of my seat with the intention to go open her door, but as I expect, she hops into the passenger side all on her own, mumbling about how I shouldn't bother.

I decide to take her by her residence first, and I keep getting delightfully distracted by her fantastic legs so very near my hand as it rests on the stick shift.

I park my car and say, "I'm sure you're used to better, but this will have to do."

The apartment complex isn't bad. The buildings themselves are about twenty to thirty years old, but they had a new owner that refurbished them about five years ago before going belly-up.

"It's fine," she says.

Again, I insist upon helping her with her things, and again, I do this mostly to annoy her. She, almost timidly to my surprise, tells me to simply put the luggage down so she can deal with it later once we enter her apartment.

"Let's just go and have me meet my new boss okay?" she asks, and now I see where the nervousness is coming from.

"You don't have anything to worry about from Bryce. He's a good employer from what I can tell," I say, trying to sound reassuring.

"Who says I'm worried about that?" she almost snaps.

"Your tone said it," I answer evenly.

She nervously brushes her blonde bangs out of her eyes and says, "I just want to get this over with since I'm starting tomorrow, and I have a bit of jet lag."

I throw my hands up in a gesture of surrender before I say, "Alright then. Off we go."

On the way there, I uncharacteristically try to make small talk, and I find out she's not _actually_ Agent Parren's biological daughter. In fact, like me, she was adopted. I don't mention to her our similarity.

### Bryce

I am so irritated I have to come to work early today. Alright, well, I probably would have had to anyway to give interviews if I'd have been lucky enough to get any applicants. Still, this takes away time with Erin. She went home to work on rewriting her book. I told her to go ahead and keep writing it. The whole nanny thing really makes it different from my life.

I see Desmond's car pull up. _Here goes._

He speaks up first. "Bryce, this is Marie Parren. Marie, this is my friend, Bryce Burch."

_Well, she's got the attractive bit taken care of,_ I think as I shake her hand and take in her golden-blonde hair, green eyes, and nice figure. Sorry to say it, but attractive waitresses tend to be more successful.

"Desmond tells me you've never had a job before," I say in an almost-question.

"Not officially, no," she answers. "My mom would have me keep house for her, taking care of my younger brothers, while she worked at a bar she owned."

_Babysitter and housekeeper ... great,_ I think sarcastically.

"But I learn fast," she quickly adds.

_Sure you do. I've heard that one before,_ I think as I glance over at Desmond to convey to him that we're even now, ... but he's too busy staring at Marie with what Jesse would call 'goo-goo' eyes. _Interesting._

"Well, let's find out how fast you learn," I say. Then, I turn to Desmond to say, "Thanks, Des. I can take it from here."

He very nearly glares at me. I give him a 'what?' look. I hope he doesn't think I'm interested. Even if I was, like with Bernadette (before I got to know her), I wouldn't. Besides, nobody tops Erin.

Desmond leaves, and I come to find Marie probably _does_ learn fast. Maybe I got lucky and Desmond actually came through for me instead of dumping on me. I've still paid my debt to him for all he did for me, ensuring that Ashley can't touch Adele.

The following night, she proves to me that she retained nearly everything I taught her, even though she looked a little tired yesterday while she learned it. _Maybe I should've done this all along: hired someone totally untrained so I could make of them what I want._ The real test will be Friday night during the party.

The party ... that Captain Jesse will attend... with whatever 'wenches' he manages to acquire. I wonder...

"Hey Marie," I call to her from the bar when things calm down a little. Once she's walked over, I say, "Friday night I usually throw a party, and this week's should be huge."

"Okay," she says.

"Thing is ... we dress up from time to time. You know, to have a little fun with the tourists." _You are so full of shit, Bryce,_ I think as I pull out my ability to keep a straight face. Jones wisely keeps his mouth shut. "And since that's tomorrow, I guess you're lacking in the costume department."

"You're right, of course."

I pat myself on the back for already having this. "I have a box here in the bar of old costumes. You can go through it to see if anything will work. You'll probably want to wash whatever you find though." I step out of the way so she can search the box, congratulating myself on my idea.

_She's Jesse's type._ I feel a little guilty I'm playing this gag on her, so I decide to plan to have Erin pack an outfit Marie could borrow just in case. _Jesse will get a kick out of this, and maybe this will distract him a little off of Erin. I hope Marie has a good sense of humor._

"I guess this will do," she says, resigned, holding up the perfect thing to fit with Captain Jesse, a short red skirt with a dark bodice above it that will, corset-style, cover a white shirt.

"Oh good," I say in an almost-bored voice.

# Chapter 24: At Your Service

### Desmond

I arrive at the bar as soon as I close up the office late Friday afternoon, and I hear Marie's voice say laconically, "Fine, fine. Ha ha."

Bryce chuckles softly, and as I climb the stairs, I see why.

Damn you, Bryce. This joke again?!

Erin speaks up, "Marie, you don't have to. I brought some more normal clothes for you if-"

"Oh no," Marie quickly cuts her off, her arms folding and an irritated expression on her face. "Obviously, Bryce is doing some kind of orientation thing here, and I'm not about to run off crying that I've had a practical joke played on me. I'm fine," she snaps and starts wiping the dust and sand off the tables.

I admire her for her attitude about the whole thing. _Good for you, Marie. He_ wanted _you to get upset, and you didn't._

"Oh, it's you," she says to me when she, sadly, stops leaning provocatively over the table. I was enjoying the view given to me from her low-cut shirt that shows off her slightly pushed up breasts from the corset.

"Yes," I say and shrug in a nonchalant manner. "Why shouldn't it be?" I watch as she leans over a chair again after she shrugs herself. She starts wiping the table some more. _A person can do a lot with chairs like that._

I go and sit at the bar. It doesn't help to distract me enough. I can still see her reflection on the turned-off TV screen. I wish she'd stop bending over. Instead of watching her, I curiously tune in the discussion between Erin and Bryce.

"It's just not a nice thing to do!" she says admonishingly.

"Aw, c'mon, Erin. It's only fun and games, and in a little while, she won't be the only one dressed like that. You'll see," Bryce says.

Erin turns to look at me before I hold up my hands and say, "Don't look at me. I've learned my lesson to never bet against Jesse and Bryce."

Bryce laughs good-natured-ly. A few tourists arrive, and Marie plasters a smile on her face to start taking their order. Jesse's rattle-trap pulls into the parking lot. My attention is drawn to his attire. He's wearing the corny buccaneer captain getup tonight. I start to roll my eyes, but I get instantly distracted by the woman that climbs out of the passenger side.

I quickly face the front again as I think, _Ginger. Holy shit, Ginger._ She's dressed in a white 'dress' with a lace-up bodice and long white skirt. It's supposed to be an undergarment, but she must not know that.

I forget all about Marie. I've been so mad at Ginger these past days that I did too good a job of getting her out of my head. No wonder I sat here lusting over Agent Parren's daughter. I haven't been entertaining myself with thoughts of Ginger.

Now everything comes back full force, I notice, as my hand shakes when I bring my glass to my lips. It's a miracle the thing doesn't spill everywhere. I get so mad at myself for allowing this reaction that I want to throw my glass to shatter it against the wall. _She looks so ... fetching in that outfit._ Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jesse with his arm around her. _Are they dating?_

_"...something that means something to you,"_ her voice echoes in my head. The same arguments with myself run around and around in my head about whether or not I tell her how _she_ means something. _And now she's dating Jesse._ An annoying pain worms its way down to my stomach. I see her head turn in my direction. Jesse laughs quietly and walks over to Marie to, I'm sure, annoy her.

Now I see where you were going with this, Bryce. Although, where does Ginger fit into this scheme?

Ginger slowly walks up to the bar. I haven't seen her or spoken to her since our argument down by the lagoon. My drink is empty, but I only barely notice because my attention gets drawn to her bare arms. _Her skin is so pale._

"Don't you ever tan?" I ask her to distract myself from wanting to slowly run a single finger up the beautifully bare skin of her arm.

"No, never. What's it to you?" she asks in a sassy voice. I love it. Making her angry is a long-time game of mine. However, it doesn't help that the sassier and more pissed off she becomes, the more I want her. Still, if I can focus on ticking her off, I have an easier time controlling myself.

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering. Hey! Maybe one day all your freckles will connect and then you'll have one." I lightly chuckle to myself.

"Oh, ha ha very funny," she says with no humor at all in her voice before she orders a drink. As she does, she walks over and lightly puts her hand on the counter while she talks about something with Jones. I quietly sit here and stare at her hand. Once she has her drink, she looks around, I guess for Jesse, still standing near me. The smallest extension of my arm and I could pull her towards me.

Get ahold of yourself! All she'll wind up doing is saying something hurtful to you again.

### Marie Parren

I have been tricked! And after all this effort I put into bleaching this old shirt too. My boss's girlfriend tells me I don't have to wear this thing anymore, but I've never been one to back down from a challenge. He thinks he's going to make me run off crying. What an asshole. I'm not about to give him that satisfaction!

I serve some customers real quick before I go back to wiping the perpetual sand off everything. My little brother Xavier, or "X-man" as I called him when he was little, neat freak that he is, would have a fit at how messy this place is if he were here.

_But he's not here,_ I think as a pang of homesickness takes over me. _Here I am, new and lonely and my boss, someone who's supposed to support me and_ help _me does nothing but play a practical joke on me! I look ridiculous!_

I stand here and decide that these tables need a new paint job when a very loud VW bug pulls into the parking lot.

Then I see the couple that get out of it are dressed in some crazy costume as well. _Oh, great_ , I think sarcastically even if I am mildly glad that I'm not the only one to look this ridiculous. As the two of them walk up the stairs, the guy says something to his date in her ear before his eyes wander over to me.

_Oh no, I made eye contact,_ I think as I quickly glance away before I can see the rest of the smile that spreads across his face. I pinch my lips together as I hear his boots walk across the boards to me. _He's got to be roasting alive in that coat._ I now _see_ the boots out of the corner of my eye as I lean over and work at some stain I found. How this place passed the health inspection, I'll never know.

He leans down too and would have gotten right in my face if I hadn't have quickly stood up.

"Captain Jesse Gillespie, at your service, madam," he says with that silly grin I expected to see all over his face as he quickly takes his hat off for a second before placing it back on his sweating locks.

Oh no. He wants to roleplay.

"Captain of what exactly? The good ship insanity? You're going to have a heat stroke in that thing. Didn't anyone tell you it's summer?" I say and rest a fist on my cocked hip.

He looks to be eating up my jibes at him as he says, "I appreciate your concern for my well-being, but don't worry. I'm perfectly comfortable. In fact, I can find comfort in the most peculiar situations. Care for me to demonstrate?"

_I don't need this._ "No, that won't be necessary, and some of us have to work."

"Ah, you're the new waitress. I wondered who Bryce would get to replace Bernadette," he says, and that blasted twinkle in his eyes refuses to go away. "You know, I introduced myself. It's rude if you don't do the same."

"It's also rude to walk up and try to get right in someone's face," I throw back at him.

The tiniest pout shows up now as he says, "I was just trying to get your attention, and what do you have against telling me your name? I suppose I could always get it from Bryce later, but I think it would be nicer if you told me yourself."

I roll my eyes and decide to just tell him, hoping it'll make him leave me alone. I doubt it though. "Marie," I finally say.

"Marie," he repeats, and I get irritated by my reaction when I watch him roll my name around in his mouth. His accent reminds me of a cowboy from an American Old West movie.

I let out a small huff and drop my arm back to my side, wondering when he'll leave me alone. I don't like the way his eyes keep looking like they're taking stock of my features, working on tallying up a score. I don't give a rat's left testicle if I qualify as a "ten" or not in his opinion.

"Now, if you'll excuse me," I say as I walk around the table to go dust off the stereo, deciding to take care of that stain I found later.

He stands up and pushes away from the table as he asks, "I simply must know. How on earth did Bryce convince you to dress up like that?"

I want to slap that look right off his face. _Oh crap. No. Is_ this _why Bryce wanted to play this joke on me? Because he knew his friend what's-his-face was going to dress up as well? And he wants us to match?! Surely not. Captain what's-his-name came here with someone._

He keeps talking, "Because I'm doing it to make up for doing something stupid."

"You're joking. Really," I say, and the sarcasm oozes out my pores. _This stereo will have to be taken apart to get it really clean. I'm almost wasting my time right now._ I turn slightly to see Jones the bartender (I don't know if the man has a first name) watching the two of us very closely. He looks at me in such a way as to let me know that if I need him to intervene, he will. Sweet, but not necessary.

My customers pay for their drinks and leave me a tip. A tiny tip. Whatever. Captain Insanity has a seat and watches me as I clear off the table. I do my absolute best to ignore him.

"So," he says after I've cleared away their glasses, "what did he tell you to get you into that?"

"Hm?" I ask, pretending to be distracted.

"That adorable little outfit you have on." I see his mouth drop in happy shock as he continues, "He told you it was a costume party, didn't he?" He roars with laughter up to the ceiling. More people start to arrive, but they head right to Jones instead of take a table.

_Maybe I_ should _put on the outfit my boss's girlfriend brought for me._

"He did, right?" he asks as he walks up to stand right behind me. I look longingly over at the customers and wish that Jones and Bryce weren't already taking care of them. Desmond looks like he's pissing off the redhead the guy behind me came with. There is absolutely nothing I can do in order to look busy enough to avoid this guy. _I thought this party was supposed to be huge. Well, it_ is _still early, I suppose._

"Yes," I say distractedly. After a few seconds, I turn a little to ask him, "Didn't you come here with that redhead?" I have to turn my face away from that disarming grin.

"We're friends, that's all," he says as I hear his voice getting closer. "Why do you ask?"

_This guy's acting like this, and he hasn't even had one drink._ I'm surprised for a second or two as his arms snake around me.

"Were you hoping I'd say that we're just friends?" he asks low in my ear, and the way he presses himself up against my rear end infuriates me.

_Alright. I've had enough of this. He is_ way _too forward._

I have an easy time breaking his hold before I grab his arm as I turn around. I could dislocate his arm, but I don't think he deserves it even with that crap he was trying to pull. Now that he's good and leaned over, I drive my knee right where it counts. All of it takes about two seconds. Then he's 'down for the count.'

"No," I answer his earlier question. "I was hoping you wouldn't say anything."

He moans on the ground. I catch a glint of sun hit my boss's girlfriend's hair as she quickly turns back around away from me to hide what I think is a giggle. Bryce looks sternly over at me. If he gets onto me about this, I'm really going to be ticked off. He set me up. I don't appreciate that.

"Jesse, what did you do?" the redhead asks as she walks over. The man whimpers a response. I'm relieved that at least someone understands why I had to do that.

"Hi. My name's Ginger. I feel like I need to apologize on behalf of my friend," Ginger says. Captain Idiot whimpers again as I see Bryce start to walk over. "Sometimes he just doesn't _think_."

Jesse whispers out, "Just being friendly." Then he looks up at me pitifully, and I have to wonder if he's also trying to look up my skirt while he's down there. I move away.

"That's a little too friendly," I say down to him.

"You could've told me," he says with a slightly louder whisper while also holding his arm.

"Hush, Jesse," Ginger says. "I'll bet she tried to drop you several hints and didn't know she had to be more direct with your thick skull." Then she turns to me to say in a very excited voice, "You've just _gotta_ teach me how to do that! That was so cool! You did it so automatically like that! That was so awesome! Will you teach me? Was that karate or something? How did you learn all that?"

Jesse moans again from the floor. I almost feel bad for him.

Bryce clears his throat to say down to his friend, "Well, I guess the greeting I have for you can wait. It would seem that Marie here took care of some of it."

"Mercy, man, please!" Jesse begs.

I don't know what to make of their conversation, so I try to answer the overexcited redhead's questions, "I learned from my dad. He taught me taekwondo. I ... um," I look down at Jesse, "actually feel a little bad about hurting him now."

"Good," Jesse says, now with a little more volume. I get the feeling he's only still lying there to be pitiful, playing it up on purpose.

Desmond walks over and starts talking to Ginger, so I go over to mope at the bar. Amazingly, the place is empty again. People must come in, get a drink, and then leave all the time.

Bryce's girlfriend looks for a moment like she's going to also go talk to Jesse, but then she turns around and leans on the bar instead.

She asks me quietly, "Are you sure you don't want that outfit? It's not bad, and you can return it if you don't like it."

"No, I'm fine, really. The fact that Ginger is dressed up too helps," I answer.

All of a sudden, Ginger's voice carries angrily over to us. "That's _not_ what I meant! Stop trying to twist everything I say!" The three of us at the bar, Jones included, watch while she storms off as Desmond continues to argue with her.

# Chapter 25: Misunderstood

### Ginger

The new girl is so cool! I'd watched as she spun around and knocked Jesse to the floor in a matter of seconds. (no doubt he deserved it) I've just _got_ to learn how to do that! She should teach a class. I'll happily be her first student if I can manage it around my work schedule.

I mention to her my idea about the class, but I don't know if she hears me. She appears distracted by Jesse and Bryce.

"Oh yeah, because that's just what someone with your temper needs," I hear Desmond say sarcastically behind me after Marie answers almost all my questions.

_Why couldn't he just stay over there at the bar?_ I think as I turn to face him with a scowl on my face. We stand here and argue about whether or not I should convince Marie to teach me. I don't know what his problem is. It's not like any of this is his business anyway.

Marie walks past us to sit down at the bar in the seat that Desmond recently vacated. This thoughtful look comes over his face as he continues, "However, I might just take that back. Maybe you _could_ learn a thing or two. Isn't one of the main aspects of martial arts meditating?"

Why is he being so mean?

_He means meditating to control my temper._ "Shut up, Desmond. Maybe if you weren't around, I wouldn't always get so mad," I snip back to him. Then I wish I could take my words back because he looks really upset now.

"Yes, I forgot. My very presence pisses you off," he grumbles.

"When you're grumpy, yes, but ..." _Okay, so he_ does _piss me off most of the time, but I keep talking to him anyway. If he wasn't such a jerk..._

He continues like I didn't say anything, "You think nothing matters to me, and you can't stand to be around someone like that since I'm not much of a 'smiler'."

"That is _not_ what I meant!" I yell, and he looks mildly surprised. "Stop trying to twist everything I say!" I can't take it anymore! I have to get away from him before I say some more stuff I'll regret. Most of the time, I consider myself to be a nice person. He just makes me so mad! I storm around him and head to the overflow seating. I doubt I'll stop there though. I need to go on a walk for a little peace and quiet so I can calm down.

"What?" he asks belligerently as he follows me. "Don't try to tell me that's not how you meant it."

"Whatever," I throw over my shoulder. I don't have the energy to come up with a better response. "I give up, Desmond. I keep trying, but we can't have a conversation where you don't piss me off," I say to him as he continues to follow me into the overflow seating area.

I look longingly at the grassy area behind his office. I just want to go, sit out there on the grass, and think. _Meditate._ "Leave me alone," I tell him.

He ignores my request, no big surprise, and asks instead, "Are you and Jesse dating?"

_Huh? Where did that come from?_ "Why do you ask?" I question, again trying to keep up with what he's talking about. _As if it's any of your business who I decide to date. It's not like you're asking me out or anything. No, you live to annoy the hell out of me._

"Yes or no?" he asks me again.

"Why is it any of _your_ business?"

"I don't suppose it really is. I just wanted to know why you're dressed like some doxy coming here as Jesse's arm candy."

_He thinks I'm dressed like a whore! I'm wearing this to_ help _Jesse!_

I spin around and slap him across the face. I've had it! I've had it with his smart-ass, almost hateful comments to me!

My hand stings.

"Shut up! I mean _really_! Shut **up**! You don't understand anything, do you? Just go be that hateful smart ass that you are around someone else!" I yell. Some tourists look curiously over at us. I don't want an audience, so I march off to that little grassy area that called to me earlier.

"Just where the hell do you think you're going?" he barks to me.

"Away. Away from _you_ ," I say as I stop and look at his intense expression. I wouldn't be too surprised if green sparks start shooting out of his eyes. I'm too angry to even be afraid. "I'm done with you." _Done with ever thinking that we could ever be more than friends. Done with even thinking we can_ be _friends._ I turn and start walking again.

Why do I let him get under my skin? I told myself I wouldn't let this happen again, but there I go letting it happen! He called me a whore. That settles it. He's nothing more than a ...

I gasp as I feel an arm around my waist spin me around, making me lose my balance. My arms fly out trying to find something to grab hold of so that I don't fall. The only thing to hold onto is Desmond.

"You listen to me, you little spit-fire redhead!" he says with clenched teeth as he jerks me into him. I still try to fight for my balance as he continues, " _I'm_ not done with _you_! Stop saying I don't understand, that nothing matters to me, that none of it is any of my business. I am _not_ always grumpy even though I don't smile much. There _are_ things that matter to me, and just because I don't share them with you doesn't mean they're not still there."

He has me pulled up so tightly against him that it's almost painful. I feel my chest press against him as I try to catch my breath and digest what he just said.

"It isn't any of your business," I breathe, finding the most solid argument.

His eyes look down at me wildly, and I now have mild fear running through me. He looks angry, furious, and he's still holding me way too tight. I start trying to push away from him even though I still haven't fully regained my footing.

All of a sudden and only for a moment, this look of pain crosses his face before the anger returns, and he growls, "Damn you, Ginger!"

_Wait, what?_ I mentally question when I feel his goatee brush against my face as he crushes his lips to mine. _No, wait. I'm completely lost here._ A little, aggravated noise slips out of me as he holds me impossibly tighter. I swear it's like he's saying, 'shut up, Ginger, and let me kiss you.'

When did I say that nothing matters to him today? .... oh. He means...

He forces my lips apart, and his tongue fills my mouth.

.... the other day. Wait a minute.

I feel the hand on my waist clench into a fist, grabbing a part of my dress with it as he lets out this low groan.

_Wait a damn minute!_ I think as I hit his collarbone with my fist. I get totally distracted from the kiss by my rambling thoughts. _You hate me. You live to get on my last nerve. You think I'm the most annoying woman in the world yet you go out of your way to piss me off when you'd be happier if you just left me alone. Oh, but no, you have to follow me around, call me up at work and ask to bring a book by when you could just as easily go and get it your damn self. That, or get your secretary to do it._

_"But if I do that I wouldn't get to see your pretty, smiling face,"_ his sardonic voice echoes in my memory. _Surely he didn't_ actually _mean that. Did he?_ A jolt of energy shoots through me like a bolt of lightning. I'm almost surprised I don't hear the subsequent thunder. Instead, I just hear my heart pounding in my ears. _No, I just can't believe it._

He releases my mouth only to trail his down my jaw to a spot on my throat that he acts like he really likes.

"Are you or aren't you dating Jesse, and please give me a straight answer," he mumbles into my neck, and I work at suppressing a shiver as his goatee lightly scratches my throat when he speaks.

"I'm not," I say simply, and I feel him relax a little as he breathes out real fast like he'd been holding his breath. "Desmond, I don't understand. Why are you so desperate to know that?"

This exasperated noise comes out of him before he growls, "For someone so smart, you are really dense sometimes."

_Jerk._ I hit his shoulder since that's the easiest target. "Excuse me?!" I snarl.

He drags his mouth up my cheek as he mumbles, "You heard me."

His face very close to mine, he holds my eyes with his as he asks, "Why else would I kiss you like that?"

_No, I don't believe it,_ I think and feel myself shake my head no as I think it.

"Yes," he says, and then I remember that he could see me shaking my head no. _Duh, I'm standing right in front of him, and he's watching my every expression like a hawk._

_He said yes,_ I think dumbly.

"You hate me," I say quietly.

"I don't."

"Yes, you do. You're always trying your damnedest to piss me off."

A split-second smile flits across his face before he lightly shrugs and says, "I admit it's a hobby of mine. Thing is, you're incredibly beautiful when you're pissed off."

I feel my face try to be redder than my hair as I realize that, for once, he actually paid me a compliment without making it an insult. His hands move to get a more secure hold of me as he continues to watch my face, making me self-conscious.

_Hold up._ "A hobby?!" I almost snap.

He looks like he's trying desperately to keep from laughing as he says, "Well, yes. It became one."

"A hobby is something you do in your spare time. So you spend your spare time coming up with new and inventive ways to piss me off?!" _And it's working again because I'm getting pissed off again!_

"No, I invent things on the spot to piss you off. I spend my spare time thinking about you in other ways," he says point blank.

I'm immediately not angry anymore. "Um... just what the hell do you mean by that?"

"I think you know exactly what I mean."

_This is too much._ I shake a little as I try to pull away.

"Not yet," he says cryptically just before he leans in to kiss me again.

A pathetic, little whimper comes out of me. _No, I need to go think. Damn you, Desmond! You have been pissing me off on_ purpose _all this time?! ... And he said it was because he thinks I'm incredibly beautiful when I'm mad. Incredibly beautiful. No one has ever said anything like that to me before._ I relax the tiniest amount in his arms, and he crushes me to him when I do. _This kiss isn't child's play either._

_"I think you know exactly what I mean by that"_ echoes in my head. _He ... he he ... no, wait a minute. ... like that?!_ I start shaking again. I'm the tiniest bit afraid of him again. _Too much!_

I jerk back suddenly to gasp, "This is just too much!"

"What about all this is too much? You still think I hate you?" he asks as he refuses to let me go. I hope that if I were _really_ trying to break free that he'd let me, but as it is, I'm really only mildly resisting.

"You hating me makes a hell of a lot more sense, don't you think?" I ask.

"No. Not to me it doesn't. Do you think I'd go out of my way to be around you if I hated you?"

I have to look away from the look he has in his eyes, so I turn my head. He doesn't act like he minds because he starts kissing my neck again.

"Hm?" he mumbles, and his voice vibrates deep in his chest.

I can't focus enough to string together a good enough argument. It's finally starting to sink in. I do, however, have a complaint. "Then why are you so mean to me?"

He lifts up off my neck to look at me again as he says, "For that, I'm sorry. What can I say? You'd just, for instance, walk into my office and look so ... You have no idea how many times I've wanted to just clear off my desk and have you right then and there." His arms tighten around me, and I think it's because my legs just turned to jelly. "It made me furious."

"That makes no sense," I say, and he rolls his eyes. "It doesn't! Why am I only hearing all this from you now? You could've told me all this sooner, you know."

"I didn't think you wanted to hear it."

I stand here, completely silent, because I have no idea what to say.

Suddenly he laughs, shaking his shoulders up and down as he does it, before he says, "I can't believe it! You're quiet? I didn't know such a thing was possible!"

I get mad. "Damn it, Desmond! I can get quiet! Sometimes I'm too quiet! I work in a library after all." I pound on his chest with my fist.

"So then it finally makes sense!" he says with obviously false enthusiasm. "You have to fill your daily word quota when you're around everyone else! And you don't have much time to do it in so you have to talk fast."

"Fine! I guess I'll stop talking to you!"

"Like I'd let that happen."

I say nothing.

"I'll just find something else to piss you off so that you can't help but start mouthing off to me again."

I'm really getting mad now ... again.

The sonofabitch smiles and keeps talking, "Well, take for instance your 'dress.' I don't think it matches the era that Jesse dressed for. And if it does, it's underwear. You came to the party in your underwear. Or, medieval underwear."

I growl and start trying to get free from his arms. "Son of a... _Jesse_ picked this out! I told him it didn't matter as long as it wasn't too short! If you have such a problem with it then -"

"Who says I have a problem with what you're wearing?" he taunts. His arms maintain their hold of me like a cage.

"You did!"

"I knew you'd start talking again." He grins.

_This is the happiest I think I've ever seen him. That's a little sad actually_ , I think in a melancholy way.

"Well, you were complaining about how I never shut up, so I thought I would."

"I wasn't saying your incessant talking was a bad thing," he lightly argues.

I can't stand it. "Yes, you did! You said how you can't believe it!"

"That doesn't mean I was happy about it. For once, I desperately wanted you to say something, and you got quiet," he says, bringing our argument/conversation back full circle.

"I ... didn't know what to say," I say quietly, very nervous all of a sudden.

"Then I'll say it. No, Ginger. I don't hate you. I'm fucking crazy about you." _Jelly legs._ "You said to me this past week to find something that matters to me."

I interrupt, "Um, well, that was before -"

"Damn it, I'm not finished!" he snaps, startling me. "Sorry," he says to my worried and mildly hurt expression. He takes a deep breath and continues, "That that you said ... hurt."

I bite my lip to keep from talking because I want so bad to apologize right now, but he acts like he's working really hard to tell me all this stuff.

His jaw clenches as he stares at my lip for a second before he takes a deep breath and continues, "Because _you_ matter to me. Then for you to tell me I even made a terrible friend..."

I close my eyes real tight and bite super hard on my lip now because it's all I can do not to interrupt him. _I feel terrible for saying those things. Why did I say those things? Me and my big mouth._ I peep one eye open because he's gotten quiet, and I wonder why.

I squeak out, "Can I talk now?"

He takes a deep breath and blinks real slow as he says, "I don't know. _Can_ you?"

I stomp on his toe with my sandal. I doubt it did anything except hurt the ball of _my_ foot, but the point still got across anyway. "May I then, damn it!?"

"You know, you really shouldn't cuss. It's un-ladylike," he says instead of answering my question.

"Oh, so you're allowed to, but I'm not?!" I can't help but argue.

One corner of his mouth goes up as he says, "I don't have to worry about being ladylike."

"Hells bells, Desmond! Here I am, trying to apologize for all those horrible things I said to you the other night, but all you're interested in doing is pissing me off!" I yell up to the treetops. I bring my face back to face him as I say, "Why do I even -"

I let out this high-pitched, agitated sound as he traps me in another inescapable kiss. I'm hopping mad. I mean really mad. I mean really hopping as I lightly jump up and down and hit his shoulders.

"Ginger..." he says against my lips, "if you keep doing that we're going to test the strength of this fabric."

I stop immediately. He actually laughs quietly.

"I accept your apology if you accept mine," he says.

"Fine."

"Where were you going before I stopped you anyway?" he asks out of the blue.

"Um, well," I swallow, "I was going to go for a walk if it looked like you were still going to bug me, but what I really wanted to do was go and just sit in the grass over there."

"Sun's almost set," he says randomly, but then I wonder just how 'random' it was by what he says next. "I like that idea. Let's go see how many grass stains we can make."

My eyes widen as he grabs my hand, and we disappear into the quickly-darkening patch of grass underneath some trees and behind his office.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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About the author

Erin Lancaster is a mother of three who sharpened her writing skills by writing blog stories. Also known as mypalsim1, she continues to write the stories that got her started.

Other titles from this author

Guardian Angel

### A Story With No Title series

Beginning Again

Moving Forward

### Learning to Love (late March 2014)

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