Page 18 of Summer with a Player

"Have I told you that I like how cozy your home is? Even if I barely fit in here," Asher asks with a chuckle, looking around at the potted plants and quirky trinkets that fill the space. "It's like stepping into another world."

"Thank you," I reply with a laugh, feeling grateful for his appreciation of my personal oasis. "I've always found comfort in surrounding myself with things that bring me joy."

"Which is precisely why I brought you those flowers," Asher says, his eyes meeting mine. "Because you deserve every bit of happiness this world has to offer."

My heart skips a beat. Could Asher be the one who will help me break free from my past? Is he the one who can show me that I'm worthy of love and happiness?

"Come here," I say softly, pulling him in for a gentle hug. I breathe in his scent – sweat, leather, and something uniquely Asher. It's intoxicating, and I can feel the walls around my heart starting to crumble.

"Thank you," I whisper into his chest, my voice barely audible. "Your kindness means more to me than you know."

"Anything for you, Elle," he murmurs, his breath warm against my forehead. "I just want to see you happy."

We pull apart, and I look up at him, our eyes locking. We still have so much to learn about each other, but our connection runs deeper than either of us ever imagined.

There in my tiny home, surrounded by the trinkets and plants that represent my life, I believe him. It’s been a long time since I’ve believed that happiness was within reach – and Asher is the key to unlocking it.

We laze around for the rest of the day and then decide to build a campfire. So, I’m almost home with all the items needed. I left Asher to do the manual labor at the beach to get ready while I made a run to the store.

I fumble with my keys, using one hand to flip through each until I find the right one. The key turns easily in the lock, and I walkinto the low noise of the tv playing some golf tournament rerun. Asher turns from his seat on the couch when I walk in.

“You got the goods?” he asks, and I hold up the fire starter and the bundle of logs currently spilling out of my arms. He bolts from the couch, hurrying to take them from me.

“Everything ready on your end?” I ask and he smiles in response. With one arm still holding the load I struggled with just moments before, he offers me his free hand. I take it and follow him out the back door, across my little lawn and up the wooden steps to the boardwalk. As I crest the last step, the sounds of the waves crashing reach my ears and I smile.

"Here," Asher says, handing me the thick blanket he brought along. "Let's spread this out and get comfortable."

I nod, helping him arrange the blanket on the sand. As he starts the fire, I admire the way his muscles flex beneath his T-shirt, his athleticism evident even in this simple task. The sight sends a pulse to my core.

Within minutes, the pit Asher dug is spilling light onto the dark beach and the warmth of the fire tickles my face, warding off the cool breeze blowing off of the ocean. I sigh.

“This is bliss,” I say as I lean against his back. He feels just as warm as the fire. He, meanwhile, tends his roasting hot dogs, humming a little tune. I start to fall asleep when he shifts and turns, jostling me back into wakefulness.

“One of those is for me right?”

He snorts. “What gave you that idea?”

I wrap my arms around his neck from behind, squeezing him tight. “Please?”

“Not a chance,” he laughs. He pulls one from its skewer and places it in a bun, leaving the other unattended. Quick as a whip, I snatch the hot dog and take a bite, laughing at his protests as I take off running down the deserted beach.

“Get back here!” he laughs as he lets me slip past him one more time. Before I know it, I’m tearing my clothes off, running full tilt towards the water with him hot on my heels. He stops at the water line as I continue splashing into the incoming waves, throwing the last of my clothes onto the dry sand. I turn and sink down into the water, grinning like a crazy person.

“What’s wrong?” I call out. “Afraid of the cold?” I’m lying of course. The water is still warm from the day, but the implication still stands. Can’t have him getting cold feet now.

He scoffs good-humoredly. “You know I’m not.”

My smile splits my face. Gotcha. “Then get in here, Jet.”

Within moments, he is wading towards me, his own clothes in a pile like a land marker so we won’t get lost on our way back.

But we won’t be coming back for a while.

This time, I let him catch me and he has no intention of letting me go. He scoops me out of the surf on his path to deeper water and I fold around him, my legs wrapped around his waist, my ankles locked tight.

He walks until the water is up to his shoulders and I kiss him to stop, stealing his breath and attention. His tongue is quick and darting in my mouth, the kisses plentiful and unsparing but I want more. I want to steal his breath away. So when his tongue darts in again, I lean into him, sucking in so that he can’t get away, and the kiss becomes deeper until he is leaning in too, as if touching each other isn’t close enough. Even as his arms hold me up, his hands caress the curves of my body, slight though they may be, and I respond in kind, my hands traveling the ridges of his toned body.

Suddenly I can breathe again, and his lips have found my neck, showing me all the stars hidden by the Miami skyline. Then it’s my turn and I kiss him hard enough to leave a bruise. “Elle,” he moans under his breath, encouraging me to keep going.

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