Page 4 of Only One Beach House

“I think it’s supposed to be hard,” he says, leaning on the table. The muscles in his arms bulge distractingly while he plays with his straw and looks at me like he’s deeply fascinated by everything I’m saying. “But I don’t think you’re supposed to be miserable.”

I nod and pick up my drink, bypassing the straw so I can gulp down several mouthfuls fast enough that the icy temperature gives me brain freeze.

“So, what the fuck do I do now? I can spend the next few weeks or months sending out résumés to every data analysis firm in the country, but who’s to say I won’t just end up rightwhere I am again in a few years? Is job stability another one of those millennial urban legends like affordable housing and college being worth the cost?”

“Fuck the system.” He raises a fist in solidarity.

I’m starting to feel the tequila go to my head, making me lighter and just a little looser. Caspian finishes his drink, then catches the attention of a waiter hurrying by to order us another round.

CASPIAN

“Okay, enough of my depressing bullshit,” Nolan declares after we both knock back a second round of shots.

My eyes track the path of his wet pink tongue over his lips after he bites into a fresh lime wedge. It sucks to hear that he’s going through such a hard time, but in a weird way, it humanizes him. Until now, he’s always seemed so mature and untouchable, up on a pedestal I could never reach. He leans in closer over the table, his smile looser now, like the tequila is giving him a buzz. It’s definitely making my head feel a little fuzzy and my body hot… or maybe that’s not so much the alcohol and more down to the way Nolan keeps undressing me with his eyes.

“Tell me about the book you’re writing,” he says.

“I’m not sure yet, actually.” I nudge his foot with mine under the table again, and he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he leans into the feeling of our knees bumping.

“Writer’s block?” he asks, a look of serious concern flashing over his face that’s a lot fucking cuter than it has any right to be.

“Nah, just waiting for an idea to grab me. After I finish a long series, I like to write a one-off or two. Stuff I can have low pressure fun with. No commitment.”

“Like having a few rebound flings after getting out of a relationship?” he asks, and his cheeks turn pink. “Nothing but hot, sweaty, no-strings-attached sex. Even if it’s a little wrong,who would even know?” His voice dips lower as he’s talking, and his eyes drift to my mouth.

My cock thickens and my lips tingle with the urge to drag him over the table and kiss him until we’re both rock hard and breathless. I shift in my seat, and Nolan seems to snap out of his trance, jerking his attention away from my mouth and giving his head a quick shake.

Is this wrong? We’re both adults. My brother is straight as an arrow, so it’s not like he’s harboring some long-standing crush on his best friend. There are no rational reasons Nolan should be off limits. And if there were, I’m not sure I’d give a fuck about them.

“It’s exactly like that,” I agree, matching his gravelly, horny tone with one of my own. “I do have one idea I’ve been kicking around actually. Want to hear about it?”

He picks up his drink and takes a deep swig from it, his throat bobbing as he swallows and nods in response.

He has nowhere else to go this summer, and I have no intention of going back to my apartment in the city until this next book is done. Maybe that’s reason enough for me to pump the brakes and think about this before I jump in with both feet. But I didn’t get where I am by being cautious. Taking risks has paid off for me, and I already know I’m about to take another, regardless of how it might turn out.

“Romance books are all about tropes and pairings, and my favorites are brother’s best friend stories.” I hold his gaze, watching the subtle dilation of his pupils. “I think it would be hot to write a book where one of the guys has always harbored a crush on his older brother’s best friend, even though they haven’t seen each other in years. And the thing is, the guy has kind of an ugly duckling thing going on. He was an awkward, dorky kid, but now he’s a certified beefcake bear cub.”

Nolan snorts into his next sip, spraying some of his drink out through his nose. I chuckle and hand him a napkin. He mops his face and then looks at me again.

“He’s had a thing for this other guy since he was a kid?” There’s a husky edge to his voice.

“Yeah. It’s a bit cliché, but that’s totally allowed in romance.” I wink and grin.

“So, they haven’t seen each other in years, but they run into each other again. Then what happens?”

He’s leaning over the table again, but I don’t know whether he realizes it. I’m leaning in too, drawn towards him like a magnet.

“I’m not sure yet,” I murmur, my gaze dipping to his lips and then back up again. “But they definitely have chemistry. I know it’ll be hot, explosive,primalwhen they give in to the attraction brewing between them.”

Nolan swallows hard, and the match we’ve been playing with since he walked in earlier finally sparks. We move at the same time, our chairs scraping over the wood floor and the glasses rattling on the table between us as we crash together. I hook my hand behind his neck and he grabs a fistful of my shirt, our lips slamming into each other in a desperate, hungry explosion. The sweet, fruity flavor of the drinks lingers on our breath, along with the tang of the tequila.

There’s nothing shy or tentative about the kiss. Some first kisses are like dipping your toe into the water—both of you unsure, holding back, not quite ready to jump. This kiss is a cannonball, bold and fucking thrilling. My lips part on a soft moan, and Nolan shoves his tongue between them to stroke and tangle with mine. He’s so fucking sweet. Not just the syrupy drink on his tongue, but the taste ofhimunderneath.

He quivers, and I can feel his skin heating against mine. I want to explore every inch of him with my mouth. I want tochase that blush of his across the planes of his body until I’ve memorized every one. I want to take him apart and make him scream my name until this throat is raw. I want to finally fuck this lifelong crush out of my system. ‘Just once to scratch the itch’ never works in the books I write, but what about in real life? Do I even want it to be a one and done?

An idea occurs to me, and I rumble a laugh against his mouth. He pulls back half an inch, his damp, swollen lips hitching in a smile.

“Something funny?”

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