Page 46 of Moving Forward

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

MAX

I wake up exactly like I have every day since I came to stay at the Millers’: Snookie rubbing his fat, slobbery tongue over my chin. I fling my arms around tiredly and groan. Dang dog.

Ellie only laughs. “He’s trying to french you. I swear, you must be his type. You’re the only one he does this to.”

“Lucky me,” I mumble, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

“So, I was thinking we could go out on the boat again today?”

I blanch. “No Matt I hope.”

“No Matt. I didn’t like the way he looked at you anyway. Men should not look at women like we’re going to star in their dream pornos. We’re people, not objects. Of course, if we want them to look at us that way, that’s another thing.” She pauses and looks up from her phone. “Sorry I put you through that.”

“I’ll get you back for it later. Just make sure to keep Matty Grabby Hands on a leash when we walk down the aisle.”

“He didn’t grab your butt, did he?” she shrieks.

“In his mind, El, in his mind.”

“Gross. I’ll talk to Danny. Matt’s a total bore anyways.” She stands up and goes to her dresser, searching through her bathing suits. “Anyway, I was thinking, in the name of being a better best friend . . . maybe you should give Cain a call. See if he wants to join.”

My jaw drops a mile. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” she answers. “Tell him to meet us at the boat in an hour. And you can wear this.”

She throws a red string bikini at me. I sit up and dangle it from my finger. No doubt this would be in one of those porno dreams Ellie talked about. “There’s nothing to this. And my boobs are bigger than yours. I won’t fit.”

She spins. “Are you seriously complaining about that? Girl, you should be dancing on mountain tops yelling ‘Amen.’ Call him, wear that. Let me make up for being a horrible, terrible, monstrous friend.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say horrible.”

###

Cain approaches the boat like a beaten dog, head hung low, and eyes glued to the ground. Danny and Ellie are getting food for the day at the general store across the street, giving Cain time to ease into the situation.

“Surprised to get your text,” he says as he climbs onto the boat.

“Ellie’s idea,” I tell him. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

He shrugs, not as bothered as I expected. Though, his natural response to being outside his comfort zone seems to be indifferent and unemotional. I lean back against the boat railing and his blasé facade disappears. His gaze roams over me hungrily, starting at my ankles, resting on my thighs, devouring my hips and curve of my stomach, fixating on my breasts, before finally fastening on my face. If I didn’t know before that Matt looked at me all wrong, then I know it now. With just one roaming look, Cain has managed to awaken every molecule in my body and send it into overdrive.

I bite at my lip and place my hands on my hips. Even if I have no idea how to handle this situation, I’m not going to pretend it isn’t doing something to me. That I may even be trying to do something to him. This is a trial-by-fire attempt at being seductive, so I’m sure I’m beyond awkward.

In an instant, he steps toward me, cups my cheeks with his gigantic hands, and fuses our lips together.

Okay, so maybe I’m not as bad as I think I am.

Without hesitation, I open my mouth to his, allowing his tongue to dance with mine. It’s so intoxicating I might just lose myself to it forever. I feel like my body belongs to his touch. I never thought I’d ever feel that way about another person. I can’t imagine my life without him, and he’s only been in it for such a short time.

His teeth catch my bottom lip as he pulls away, eyes fiery. Even though he said he would wait, I can tell—feel—how difficult it is. Still, he doesn’t push me. He just moves his hand to the back of my neck and knots his fingers in my hair.

“Why the hell are you wearing that?” he demands. Not out of anger—out of lust. “Maybe I should give you my shirt.”

“You don’t like it?” I ask innocently.

He works his jaw. “Like it? Hell, I think I might need to build a monument to honor it. I won’t be able to concentrate, let alone think, with you wearing that. The last time was hard enough, but this? This is worse.” He leans in so his lips brush against my ear as he whispers, “Way, way worse.”

---