Page 1 of Starfish and Coffee
Chapter One
Alex loved the beach at sunrise, when streaks of pink stretched across the night sky spreading the hope of a new day. He walked across the sand, feeling at home because this was where he was supposed to be. The sound of the waves was the soundtrack to his life, the unique combination of sea breeze and sunscreen the cologne he planned to wear until the day he died.
For the life of him he didn’t know why it felt like the end of a long journey. He’d never left. He’d been on Mirabella Island all along. Then he lifted his gaze to the shoreline, seeing a man standing with his feet buried in the sand as the waves washed over them.
Matt.
Alex’s breath caught, and for a moment he knew this couldn’t be true. Matt was gone, completely out of reach, and as far away from the seashore as one man could be. Alex had only himself to blame, and he almost felt guilty walking to him, but real or not, he’d never been able to resist him.
He came up behind Matt and wrapped his arms around the broad, muscular body that made up every wet dream Alex had had since he was twenty-two. He leaned down and buried his face in the curve of Matt’s neck, breathing him in, finding the familiar scent of expensive aftershave clinging to his skin like it belonged there.
They both wore nothing but swimming suits, and Alex savored the feel of Matt’s warm, powerful back pressed against his chest. He kissed his bare shoulder, and Matt made a low groan in the back of his throat as if he’d been waiting for Alex’s touch all this time.
So long.
It’d been so very long, and Alex’s cock swelled with painful need six years in the making. He threaded his fingers into Matt’s inky hair and tugged his head back roughly, looking for a release from the torture, the loneliness, the overwhelming regret that had become his constant companions.
He stared into Matt’s eyes, clear and honest, a strange blue-green, like the ocean on a breezeless, sunny day. That gaze never stopped being startling against the backdrop of tan skin and a face so handsome Alex felt haunted by its beauty.
Matt’s chest rose and fell with sharp, hard breaths of need. His beautiful eyes reflected the pain of loss too, and it ripped at Alex harsher than his own agony. More than anything, Alex just wanted to see Matt light up the way he used to before life stole the dreams of their youth.
Then Matt turned in his arms and kissed Alex hard, rash and impatient as his tongue pushed into Alex’s mouth. Suddenly the two of them were young and wild, invincible. They could fuck on the beach without fear. They could be in love, and no one was going to take it away from them.
Loving Matt wasn’t going to hurt him—not this time.
Alex realized then the island wasn’t his home; it never had been. Matt was his home, and Alex was still lost. Nothing about this was completely real, but it didn’t matter. He kissed Matt like a man starved. He ran his hands over warm, muscled flesh until he was gripping Matt’s tight ass, forcing their bodies close together. Their cocks brushed, hard and aching, straining against the material of their suits.
Alex wanted Matt naked. He wanted him in the sand, wet and bare and begging. He’d fuck him, and he’d do it without an ounce of remorse. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d done it on this beach, but every other time they were under the cover of darkness, hiding all manner of sins.
Now it was a new morning. A new beginning. Alex was desperate for it, and he pulled at the tie to Matt’s suit with shaking fingers. That small white string was a lifeline, but as he tugged, it fell through his grasp like sand.
He looked up, seeing Matt’s handsome face fade away and turn to dust. He reached frantically for Matt’s shoulders, once powerful and strong. Alex’s fingers slipped through the air, clutching at emptiness. Matt was nothing but a memory now, and Alex had known it. It’d been years since he’d gotten more than just a taste of love lost in these nighttime fantasies; even his subconscious was jaded and burned.
The knowing didn’t stop Alex from crying out in horror and frustration, still grasping in vain at a dream. “No! Matty! Don’t go!”
* * * *
“You’re dreaming, baby.”
Alex shot up in bed, still breathing deeply, looking for that new morning—for Matt. All he found was the shadowy darkness of his bedroom. The waves crashed in the distance, keeping him in that weird place between dreams and reality a little too long to make him anything less than miserable.
Soft arms wrapped around his waist, and a gentle kiss was placed to the curve of his side as he struggled with the collision of reality.
“You wanna talk about it?”
Alex looked down at Holly, wearing an old Jimmy Buffett tank top that stretched way too tight across her breasts and clung to her slim, curvy body like a second skin. Her long, curly brown hair fell past her shoulders in tangled disarray. Her green eyes were heavy-lidded with sleep, but she was still beautiful. Not for the first time, Alex wished he could’ve been made to love her instead. It would’ve made life so much easier—for both of them.
“No.” He rubbed a hand over his face, trying to take comfort from Holly’s soft caresses as she ran her fingers up his bare back. “It’s just the same ol’ bullshit.”
“You’re dreaming about him again,” Holly mused thoughtfully. “It’s been a while. I was hoping that meant you were starting to get over him. Six years is starting to border on pathetic.”
“You’re one to talk,” Alex snapped. Feeling lonely and exposed he searched for a way to defend himself. “You still say my brother’s name in your sleep, ’cause that’s not traumatizing or anything.”
Holly was silent for a long moment before she sighed. “Yeah, I suppose you have a point. I have those dreams too—all the time. As if a part of me is trying to cling to the past, even knowing it’s long gone. I wish I could forget. You ever feel like that? Like you almost wished it never happened just so it wouldn’t hurt so much?”
Alex considered that, the idea of never having had Matt in his life to begin with, and found the thought hurt worse than losing him. Feeling too raw to talk about it anymore, he reached over to the nightstand and turned the clock toward them to stare at the red numbers in the darkness.
“It’s past four.” He leaned closer, squinting at the top of the clock radio. “Did you forget to set it again?”
