Page 3 of Only One Beach House

His voice is dripping with confidence and self-assurance, and it shoots through me like electricity. Fuck, that’s even hotter than all the rest of it. Who the hell is Caspian Martin? Clearly, I didn’t know a thing about him when we were kids, but I guess I’ll have the summer to find out. That thought makes my stomach flutter even harder and the smile on my lips grow wider.

We near the bar, and Caspian jogs the last couple of steps so he can reach the door before me, pulling it open and gesturing me through. It’s packed inside, which isn’t surprising considering how many people flock to Bluewater Bay every summer. Tropical music plays through the overhead speakers and the smell of alcohol and sunscreen tickles my nose. Caspian nods towards a table a few people are getting up from.

“Go grab that and I’ll get drinks. Any requests?”

It’s on the tip of my tongue to argue against him buying, but anxiety tightens my chest before I can say anything. Who knows how long it’ll be before I find another job? Plus, I’ll have a security deposit and moving expenses to consider. I have a small nest egg saved, but every penny feels like it counts right now. I swallow my embarrassment and shake my head.

“Whatever is fine.”

“Cool.” He pats me on the shoulder and heads up to the bar while I go claim the table before anyone else can swoop in and grab it.

While I wait for Caspian to get back with our drinks, I scope out the crowded bar. My attention snags on a small group of guys gathered around a table, one of them wearing a rainbowbracelet, which is a decent sign that some if not all of them are queer. They’re all classic beach bros, dressed in tank tops that show off their bronzed skin and rippling muscles, with sunglass lines around their eyes, and toothy white smiles on their faces. Hooking up was definitely part of my summer plan. Getting all primal and sweaty with someone seems like a necessary reward for having to spend the rest of my time sending out résumés and moping about how my life fell apart in the blink of an eye. I glance back at Caspian, leaning over the bar, waiting for our drinks. Would it be weird to bring guys back to the house while he’s there? Shit, ishegoing to be bringing guys to the house?

My stomach swoops as I imagine having to listen to his loud sex sounds all night long. My cock swells against my thigh and my mouth goes dry. Maybe staying here all alone with him is a bad idea. He said he needs to work, maybe I’ll just be in the way.

Except I have nowhere else to go. My gut fills with lead and my shoulders sag.

How the hell did everything go so wrong so damn fast? I did everything I was supposed to do. I gave up the impractical idea of my dream job in favor of something that was supposed to be stable, I did the smart thing and found a roommate so I’d have more wiggle room to save up money, and I focused on my career, telling myself there would be time for a social life later.

“See now, that look right there is going to go straight to my ego. I’m gone for two minutes, and you look like someone kicked your puppy.” The flirtatious lilt in Caspian’s voice makes my skin heat.

I snap my eyes up to meet his and blow out a breath that turns into a huff of laughter halfway through.

“What can I say? I just missed you so much,” I deadpan.

He laughs and sets two shot glasses and two mixed drinks down on the table.

“Tequila for your thoughts?” He waggles his eyebrows and shoves one of the shot glasses towards me.

I click my tongue. “You’re showing your age, Cas. Everyone knows tequila and depression never mix well.”

I pluck the lime off the edge of one of the mixed drinks, then bring the shot to my mouth. I down it in a quick gulp, biting into the lime to chase the bitter taste as it burns down my throat. I wince and lick my lips, and he does the same.

“You can’t be depressed at the beach. It’s, like, against the law.” As soon as his shot is gone, he picks up his mixed drink and takes a hearty gulp.

“Is that so?” I chuckle.

He nods with a serious expression. “It’s in the city’s bylaws, actually. You should take a look.”

“Oh yeah?” I drag my drink over and take a sip. It’s fruity, overly sweet, and clearly mixed with a generous amount of tequila too.

“No clue. I actually don’t even know what bylaws are.”

I laugh again, and the clouds I managed to gather around myself in the short time he was getting our drinks start to dissipate.

“Life’s just been kicking me in the balls lately.”

“You want to talk about it?” he asks. I shake my head, prepared to blow it off and turn the conversation to more fun topics, like maybe back to his unexpected career writing smut. But Caspian nudges my foot under the table and gives me a sympathetic half smile that unlocks the words without my permission, and they just start to tumble out.

“I’ve been busting my ass at this data analysis firm the last few years, gunning hard for promotions, working long hours, letting my vacation time gather dust, all to get the higher ups to notice me. It felt like it was going well, but then last week I got the news that they were downsizing. Apparently, I had workedjust hard enough to land myself in the category of ‘too expensive to keep on.’” I huff out a humorless laugh and take another sip of my drink. “And if that wasn’t bad enough, my roommate kicked me out so his girlfriend could move in. So, you are currently looking at an unemployed homeless dude.”

I lick my lips and fix my attention on the little beads of condensation forming on my glass rather than on Caspian. I’d really rather not see the pity I’m sure is in his eyes. Damn, I wish I had another shot of tequila.

He nudges my foot again and I finally look back up. There’s sympathy in his eyes, but no pity. A knot loosens in my chest.

“That fucking sucks. I’m sorry, man.”

I shrug and sit up a little straighter. “The weird thing is, I don’t even really care. I mean, Icare, but I think what’s bothering me more than losing my job and my apartment is that I feel like I’ve just been doing it all wrong.” My own words surprise me. I wasn’t thinking about it consciously, but it must have been in the back of my mind, because as soon as I say it, somethingrightclicks into place. “My parents lectured me to death about having a stable job and making smart choices with my money, and I’ve done all that, but it feels like I’m barely treading water anyway. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be, is it?”

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