Page 36 of Inked Obsession

I drank coffee that Lee had sent to my room through room service because he was more of a mother hen than a Montgomery and looked around. I should probably eat breakfast, but I wasn’t in the mood. Maybe I would go work out and then head to the beach. I could see what Eliza was doing and ask if she wanted to hang out. I frowned. No, I shouldn’t do that. She wanted time alone, didn’t she?

She didn’t need to hang out with me and all of my problems.

I shook my head and changed into my workout gear. I might be on vacation, but I’d still brought workout gear like a chump. I couldn’t help it, I needed something to do.

I headed out into the hallway and looked at her closed door. Should I knock and say, “Good morning?” Should I text? Or should I be the responsible one and just leave her be? I should probably do that. If she wanted someone to talk to, she could find me. Or maybe she’d find that guy I’d seen hitting on her earlier. She’d even smiled at him when we were heading over to get lunch. Who was he? And why the hell was I jealous? It wasn’t like she was mine. She never would be. I didn’t want anyone like that. And it sure as hell couldn’t be Eliza. She was just my friend. And here I was, talking in circles.

I shook my head and headed down to the gym. It was early enough that not a lot of people were working out. In fact, I bet most people would work out here by just hanging out at the pool or at the beach rather than hitting the gym. I wanted to lift a few weights, and later, maybe I’d run on the beach. I’d thought about waking up earlier and doing so in the morning, but I was still on Mountain Time. Running on the beach as the sun rose before the crowds really hit peak would be a little too early for me.

I lifted a few weights, rolled my neck, and then headed to the treadmill—just a bit of cardio to get the blood pumping and try to stop thinking about Eliza.

Why was I thinking about her at all? That was not why I had come here. I’d come to Florida to relax. To stop thinking about Brian and the shooting. I would be fine, damn it. I had already slept a whole night, and my family was right… I needed to talk to someone again. And I would. Annabelle had a good therapist; one she had started going to after the attack last year. I growled thinking that this probably wasn’t the best time to be thinking about that.

She had gone to therapy on and off after everything happened when she was a teenager. And she’d found a new therapist for her most recent issues, one that Jacob even went to after the horridness that was the incident.

Maybe I would book an appointment with them or someone they recommended and figure out what the hell I was doing. Because my family was right: hiding from everything that had happened andwouldhappen wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

All it had done so far was hurt my family’s feelings and me in the process.

I would talk to someone, and I would try to stop being the person I had become. Because keeping secrets only hurt people. I had hurt Brenna. I knew it. Brenna, the one everyone thought loved me when that wasn’t the case. She had only been hurt because I had been keeping secrets from her—something I had promised myself I would never do. And here I was, doing it anyway.

I finished my workout, drank an entire glass of cucumber water, and headed back to my room.

On the way, I nearly tripped over my feet and ran into Eliza in the hallway. She looked up at me, her wet hair piled on the top of her head, a towel wrapped around her chest. She was wet and wearing only a bathing suit, that towel, and flip-flops. She grimaced. “I forgot my wrap. I was just doing a few laps in the pool.” she muttered as her gaze raked over me. “Anyway, um,” she said quickly.

“I just finished working out,” I said and then looked down at my sweaty body. “As is evident.”

“Yes. Um. Anyway, I was actually going to call later and see if, well, if you wanted to go get breakfast. Or is it too late for that?”

I swallowed hard and did my best not to look at her directly. My cock pressed against my gym shorts, and I swore I’d just end it right here if she noticed. I would jump off my balcony as soon as I walked inside.

Why the hell was my cock doing this? I couldn’t want Eliza. That was wrong. Oh so fucking wrong. I fucking wanted her. And that made me the worst person in the world.

“Breakfast sounds great,” I said quickly, trying to think of anything but how she must look under that towel. I’d seen part of her swimsuit the day before, the way it clung to those delicious curves of hers. Her breasts were full and high, her hips flaring out just wide enough that they would be perfect for my hands to grip.

And that was enough of that.

I was seriously going to hell. This weekend wasn’t about this. Wasn’t about me having dirty thoughts about her.

This weekend was about healing.

Not sex.

Jesus Christ, not sex.

“I need to blow out my hair again because if I don’t, it’ll end up a frizzy mess, and no one needs to see that.”

I snorted. “I’m pretty sure it doesn’t matter; you’ll look beautiful, no matter what.” Her eyes widened, and her cheeks pinked. “Sorry, that was too much. I was telling the truth.”

She shook her head. “That was nice to hear. No one says that anymore.”

My brows rose. “Seriously? You’re fucking hot, Eliza.” I pressed my lips together. “And I’m never going to speak again.”

She laughed. “And on that note, I am going to shower and get ready for breakfast. I’ll be as quick as possible. I brought my favorite blow-dryer that blows me out pretty quickly.”

I did not know why that comment made me think of sex, and I did my best not to think about it. Seriously, going to hell.

“Anyway, before I keep rambling and dripping all over the carpet, I’m headed in.” She turned, smacked into the door, cursed, and then made her way inside before I could see if she was okay.

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