Page 8 of Only One Beach House

“I’d love to do the artwork for video games.” The answer surprises me even as it leaves my lips. I can’t believe I actually forgot that I used to want that, that I was bold enough to think I could do that once. “It’s an impossible job to get though.” I shake my head.

“Fuck impossible.” His voice is full of conviction and cocky confidence that makes me huff out a laugh.

“Oh, that easy?” I deadpan.

“Didn’t say it was easy, but there’s a whole hell of a lot of wiggle room between ‘easy’ and ‘impossible.’”

I guess I hadn’t thought of it that way. Sure, it might be hard, but if I’m going to have to apply for hundreds of jobs anyway, why not include some game companies? Would putting myself out there and going for it be any harder than where I ended up following the ‘easy’ path this whole time?

A sense of peace settles over me and my eyelids start to feel heavy. I yawn again.

“Yeah. Maybe I will,” I hear myself murmur as sleep finally pulls me under.

CASPIAN

Sunlight streams in through the windows and the smell of coffee and salty ocean air fills the house. My fingers fly over my keyboard, words appearing on the screen in front of me, summoned out of thin air like magic. Seventy books in my backlist and I swear it still feels like an unexplainable alchemy every time I start a new one.

I hear Nolan start to stir in the other room. After he fell asleep, I put a blanket over him and left him to get some rest. I was wide awake though, so I decided to capitalize on the energy flowing through me and dancing under my skin after last night by pouring it into a new book.

I finish off the chapter I’ve been chipping away at for hours and close my computer just as Nolan shuffles into the kitchen.

“Coffee?” I offer, my chair scraping against the tile floor as I get to my feet.

My own cup has gone cold while I focused on the charming banter in the opening chapter, so I pick up my mug and carry it over to the sink to dump it.

“Sure, thanks,” he says in a sleep-rough voice that makes sparks dance over my skin. “I see you’ve found a pair of pants.”

I glance down at the shorts I pulled on after he fell asleep and chuckle.

“Disappointed?” I flash him a grin over my shoulder before grabbing a mug for him and filling both.

He murmurs something I don’t catch, but the flush on his face when I turn around makes me think it was likely a compliment.

“How do you take it?” I let my voice dip low with the innuendo and his blush deepens.

“You’re a surprise, Cas, on every level. But I think what a flirt you grew up to be might be the most unexpected part.”

I smile a little wider. He’s not wrong. I don’t think anyone could have looked at the shy, nerdy kid I was back then and guessed where I would end up. Somewhere along the way I think I just decided I cared more about being happy and authentic than about embarrassing myself. It’s a fucking wild thing how much easier everything gets once you let go like that.

“I’m assuming that’s a compliment, so thank you.” I hold up his coffee mug again to remind him of the original question.

“Black is fine.”

I nod and carry the coffee over to the table, Nolan’s eyes tracking me the whole way with a look of desperation. I’d like to think it’s for me, but considering he only slept for about four hours, I’m guessing it’s the coffee he’s dying to have inside of him.

I stop right in front of him, and he holds out a hand for the mug, but I hesitate. A slightly cruel thought passes through my mind and I smirk again, holding the cup out of his reach.

“What did last night mean? Was it a one-time thing? Do we need to tell Slater? Are we going to pretend it didn’t happen? Where are you at with everything?”

He blinks, then whimpers, making another grab for the coffee. “Dude, you cannot rapid fire questions like that at me before caffeine.”

I grunt. “One answer and I’ll give you the coffee.”

Nolan eyes me for a second, either thinking through what I asked or considering whether it’s worth it to get the coffee from me, I’m not sure which.

“I don’t think we need to tell him. Not right now, anyway,” he answers.

I frown. That wasn’t the question I was hoping he would answer, but I guess that’s on me for giving him the option. I grunt again and set the mug down in front of him, then round the table to reclaim my seat.

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