[Complete]
Chloe's world is shattered when her parents' long-standing marriage comes to an abrupt end. Determined to shield herself from the pain of love, she vows to never allow her heart to be entangled, even if it means severing ties with Henry...
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"No. There's no way," a very familiar voice says from behind me, pulling my attention away as I lay on my beach chair enjoying the ocean view.
I turn around to find Chloe standing there, arms crossed, visibly irritated, accompanied by the beach chair rental staff.
"There has to be another chair available somewhere? Anywhere?" she says with frustration, directing her question at the employee.
"I'm sorry, but the next closest available chair is on walkover A," he responds.
"Well, how far away is that?" she presses.
"That's about a fifteen-minute walk," he responds, pointing in the direction to the left, "The rest of the chairs are all booked out for the summer."
A fifteen-minute walk doesn't sound too bad, but when you factor in the sand and an 85-degree day, it feels like absolute hell.
A smile dances on my lips as Chloe grunts at the beach chair rental employee, conceding with a curt "Fine."
She goes about her business, ignoring my presence, as she walks around her chair, sets her bag down, grabs her towel, and lays it over her chair.
It has been several days since our encounter at the bar, and I've been unable to decipher her true feelings towards me. One moment, she acts as if she loathes me, wanting nothing to do with me. And then, in other moments, she looks at my lips with an intensity that suggests she wants to consume them, just like the other night. She is a constant contradiction, alternating between hot and cold, pulling me in conflicting directions, breaking up with me only to then ask me to be her date to a wedding. She used to not be this way. Things were different up until she found out her parent were divorcing. But now it's frustratingly impossible for me to gauge what she truly wants, and it seems apparent that, in this very moment, it is not me.
"Clo," I say, acknowledging her presence.
"Lewis," she responds, maintaining her distance.
She starts to peel off her white crochet knit cover-up, revealing herself in a black little bikini. But it's not just any ordinary bikini. It's one of those cheeky ones that could almost pass as a thong. It has two ties on either side, and the top shows off her perky little breast. The tie is in the front instead of the back. All I'd have to do is pull one of those strings and they'd be free for me to put my mouth over one of her perfect little nipples.
Oh fuck. My dick is getting hard. I need to stop.
I adjust myself, shifting awkwardly in my chair, as she turns towards me, and I quickly turn my gaze back to my phone. From the corner of my eye, I observe her settling into her chair, retrieving a book from her bag, and flipping it open.
We sit in an uncomfortable silence, both engaged in a silent battle of ignoring each other, listening to the waves crash onto the shore. Despite my attempts to divert my attention, my curiosity gets the better of me, and my gaze involuntarily drifts towards her, stealing glances every now and then.
Finally looking up at her and trying to break the silence. "So, how's your family?"
She glances at me through her sunglasses, I can see her gaze roaming over my face through them. "My family?" she responds, her eyes drifting away from me and onto the ocean.
"They're fine," she responds, her tone laced with irritation.
"Great," I reply with a touch of sarcasm. I shake my head and gaze back out at the ocean.
After a moment, she asks, "How's your family?"
"Their Fine," I respond, the irritation in my voice mirroring hers.
"Awesome."
"Good."
"Great"
She huffs and eases deeper into her chair, opening her book to read. I sit up a bit, attempting to focus on the ocean and disregard her presence, but it proves impossible.
"I didn't know you read books," I ask, not bothering to glance her way.
"I don't," she responds, still engrossed in her book. "Sophie's been trying to get me to read for a while now."
I nod in response and then she continues, "She thinks my life is like one of her rom-com books and she's just waiting for the moment when I find myself in one of those classic one-bed tropes"
"One-bed trope?"
She looks back at me, her eyes meeting mine once again. "You know, the kind of situation where the two main characters are forced to share a bed for a night," she explains.
Before I entered the picture, I'd heard that Chloe went on a lot of dates. I don't mean in the sense that she slept around a lot but she went on a lot of first and second dates. I've been told a story or two about some of her dating experiences, and it's no wonder why Sophie thinks her life is like a book.
We go back to uncomfortable silence for a while, her reading her book and me idly scrolling on my phone, until she suddenly rises from her chair, capturing my attention and diverting it from my device. She starts making her way towards the water, and it's hard to resist watching her but I do pulling my attention back to my phone.
When she returns, her body glistens with droplets of ocean water. She looks like a fucking goddess. Every inch of her is drenched, from her tousled beach blonde hair cascading down her back to the tips of her toes. She gracefully brushes her wet hair back, clearing it from her face, and then adjusts the top of her bikini. Her nipples popping right through the thin material.
She lowers herself into her beach chair and slides her sunglasses back onto her face, shielding her eyes. She retrieves the book from her side table and then places it open on her lap once more as she continues to read. However, despite her apparent focus, she hasn't even turned a single page.
God is it getting hotter out here?
I rise to my feet, removing my sunglasses and hat, and begin to peel off my own shirt. In the midst of this action, I steal a glance at Chloe, finding her fixed gaze on me. I think maybe she thinks I can't see her eyes behind her glasses, but I can definitely see them on me.
"How's the book?" I ask, expecting a response. However, she remains silent, her gaze unyielding and I can't help but chuckle softly.
"Chloe," I interject, determined to capture her attention. Slowly, she looks up, acknowledging my presence.
"Hmm?" she murmurs.
"I asked how your book is," I repeat, a mischievous smirk gracing my face. "You haven't turned a page in over ten minutes."
She clears her throat, slowly averting her gaze back to her book.
"Is there something more interesting your looking at?" I tease, prompting her to whip her head back up at me.
"What? No!" she retorts, her scoff only fueling my amusement.
Closing the distance between us, I take two steps towards her, leaning both hands against the armrests of her beach chair, effectively entrapping her. Our faces close together, her head retreats slightly, only to be halted by the back of the beach chair. Her visible swallow betraying her nervousness.
"I can see you staring at me through your sunglasses, sweetheart," I whisper, enjoying the sight of her cheeks turning pink.
Finally breaking the silence after a few seconds, "You wish, Henry," she retorts, her voice a mix of defiance and a hint of vulnerability.
I straighten up and make my way back to my chair, giving her her space back.
"I think I'm going to get back in the water again," she murmurs.
"Probably a good idea. Help you cool off a little bit," I reply, a smirk dancing on my lips as I settle back into my chair.
"Shut up, Lewis!" she exclaims, her frustration evident as she flings her book in my direction.
