Page 54 of Deep In Love
My core clenches and the sun scorches my skin. I make the mistake of meeting his gaze, and it’s smoldering. He pulls the lollipop out of his mouth, twirling it around his tongue, and I almost fall off the side of my chair.
For fuck’s sake, someone take the candy away from the man.
“Can I read it after you’re done?” Jett asks.
“It’s a romance,” I say, quirking a brow.
He shrugs. “I don’t care. I like aliens.”
“Sure. As long as you’re okay with alien sex.”
Mateo chokes, and the lollipop launches from his mouth and onto the deck. He rises and leans down to retrieve the candy, andwhen he returns from throwing it away, he grabs the hem of his top and pulls it over his head.
My mouth dries as he drapes the shirt over the back of the deck chair, a grand expanse of golden skin illuminated from the sun. He spins, muscles pulling and twisting, and I’m faced with his chest, broad and strong, with a soft smattering of hair trailing past his belly button and disappearing beneath his waistband.
Holy mother of pearl.
I offhandedly notice that Jett and Shaun have also lost their shirts, but a mermaid could surface off the side of the boat and I still wouldn’t be able to drag my gaze away from Mateo.
He crosses one leg over the other, and I’ve never considered myself turned on by the sight of a man’s thigh, but as he leans back and I get another peek of his tattoo, it might be the hottest thing I’ve ever witnessed.
Mateo refuses to look in my direction, and bitter disappointment swirls with the unquenchable lust in my lower stomach. He chats with Jett, and I hang off his every word, desperate to decipher them like the code to uncover the root of his behavior lies within them.
I’ll have to corner him tonight and clear the air. This energy isn’t good for us. I’ve already cried today, and one time is one too many. Will it be hard to sleep beside him with a brain full of thigh tattoos and tanned skin? Undoubtedly, but if Charles Darwin survived for years at sea, then I can survive three weeks with Mateo.
The sun dips below the horizon, painting the sky in cotton candy hues, and I am no farther in my book than I was two hours ago. My skin is warm, both from the sun and the honeyed sound of Mateo’s voice as he waxes poetic about the importance of ironing linen shirts. I’ve learned more about him through his conversation than I have in the years since I met him.
He loves Chupa Chups—the lollipop he gave Jett—and watchesSurvivorreligiously. Each word is like uncovering a trait of a species newly discovered. I’m greedy for it all.
“Stay with me and watch the sunset?” Shaun asks, drawing my attention.
My stomach sours, and a bead of sweat drips down my temple. His interest in me is flattering and unexpected, and in a different world, maybe there would be the flutter of anticipation in my lower stomach, or the quickening of my pulse when he walks into a room. But those feelings, they belong to someone else.
“Can we talk for a second?”
I gesture to an empty area on the other side of the deck, out of earshot from the rest of the group. For a few moments, he stands beside me, leaning on the railing and looking out toward the horizon. Inhaling the salty air, I ready myself to explain, but he beats me to the punch.
“You’re into Mateo, aren’t you?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I get it.” His hand lands on my shoulder, offering a friendly squeeze. “I hope things work out for you.”
“Thanks.” We stand side by side, watching the sunset for a moment before I leave to find Mateo to clear the air, until I catch him storming away. “Mateo, wait!”
Disregarding my plea, he speeds down the hallway toward our room, and I sprint to reach him, catching his wrist, but he rips his arm out of my grasp.
“What do you want, Charlie?” His words are venom, each word striking a lethal blow.
“C-can we talk?”
He ignores my question to unlock the door, and when he lets it fall behind him and nearly slam in my face, I have to contain the scream begging for escape. Embarrassment and anger are living beasts in my chest, converging until I’m consumed by them.
Since we stepped onto the gangway, he’s unearthed emotions I’ve spent years burying beneath the surface. Does he think Iwantto spend every waking moment with him on my mind?
Pure, unbridled rage slams into me.
I don’t deserve this.I don’t.
