Page 8 of Defensive Zone

Eventually, we swim to a shallower end where we can stand, the water coming up to mid-chest. I just stand there, allowing it to soothe my heated skin as I take in the stunning surroundings.

“I’m really glad I get to experience all this with you.” Carter’s voice is soft, almost vulnerable.

“Me too.” Glancing over at him, I smile softly as an ache blooms in my chest. “There’s no one else I would want to share these memories with.”

Even if memories are all I’m ever going to have.

Chapter Three

Carter

Our time in Hawaii is coming to an end, and I’m not quite ready to go back to reality. These past two weeks have been a dream. There’s just something about being here that I find so…peaceful. I wasn’t kidding when I mentioned buying a house here when we retire. We try and visit different places each summer, but somehow, we always end up coming here. I guess in a way, in my mind at least, it’s ours.

I never want to leave, but reality always comes calling.

Just not tonight, as we’re going for dinner at one of our favorite steak restaurants and then going to a beachfront bar for drinks.

I adjust my watch as I wait for Zach by the front door. The location of this villa is perfect, as we’re close enough to walk to the shops, bars and restaurants but far enough away that we’re not in the mix of it all and we have the privacy we crave.

When Zach rounds the corner, my breath hitches slightly. Dressed in all black, the sleeves of his lightweight linen button-down are rolled up to mid-forearm, allowing his tattoos to play peekaboo. The buttons are open to the top of his abs, showing off his wide, sculpted torso, earned through dedication and hard work in the gym. His shorts fit his thick muscular thighs like a second skin, and the tattoos on his legs add a pop of color to his otherwise dark outfit.

“Damn.” I let out a low whistle and fan myself with my hand. “You looking to hook up or something?”

The second the words leave my mouth, something goes weird in my chest. And not a good weird.

Huh, what’s that about?

He laughs quietly. His long, shoulder-length dark hair falls around his face as he ducks his chin. I fucking love when he wears his hair down. I don’t know what it is about his hair that I love so much. He has this almost Viking-esque vibe with day-old stubble lining his jaw, and the whole dark ensemble he’s got going on makes his light blue eyes so striking.

My best friend is an absolute snack.

He doesn’t answer though, and I’m not sure why that bothers me. It’s kind of been an unspoken rule that we don’t hook up with others while we’re on vacation. This time is meant to be strictly ours. Two weeks of uninterrupted Carter and Zach time.

And to be honest, I don’t want to share him with anyone else. I’m not ashamed to admit I’m selfish when it comes to spending time with Zach. I want to be the sole focus of his attention, and I will fight dirty if someone tries to get in the way of that.

“Ready?” he asks.

His scent fills my nose as he leans in and picks up the keys from the side table, and I can’t help but take a deep inhale. He smells so fucking good. Like sandalwood, amber and cardamom. All rich and decadent, making him even more irresistible.

Ugh, get with it, Lockwood.

I can’t be thinking things like this. He’s my best friend.

With a smile, I nod. “As ever.”

I open the door, letting him walk through before I slap my palm against his firm ass cheek. And on the entire walk to the restaurant, I try to squash this unfamiliar feeling bubbling in my chest.

A few hours later, we’re people-watching while sipping on drinks in our favorite bar. I’m floating in that happy space where my stomach is satisfied from delicious food, and I’ve got the gentle buzz from the cold beer in my hands. The light breeze from the beach only adds to that relaxed vibe.

“She’s hot.” Zach’s voice is quiet, but loud enough I can hear him over the music pumping throughout the bar.

Subtly looking over my shoulder, I lock eyes with the brunette sitting at the bar, watching us with keen interest. Throughout dinner, I couldn’t get the idea of Zach hooking up out of my brain, and when he kept pointing out beautiful women, it only intensified. Is he trying to hint at something? Does he want me to find someone so he won’t feel guilty about sneaking off with someone himself?

When I turn back to face him, I’m unable to read the expression on his face. He brings his beer to his lips, takes a swig, then watches me with a thoughtful look.

I wish I could read his mind right now.

“You should get her number,” he suggests.

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