to decipher. On one hand I understand, given how upset he seemed at the rec center, but on the other hand, why did he feel the need to lie? I’m also hurt that he ran away from me like that, which is weird. He doesn’t owe me anything. Then there’s the issue of how my body responds to him anytime he’s around.
“Do you mind if I join you?”
Not at all, but that’s not what I say. “Actually, I was just about to go inside. It’s all yours.” I stand and place my foot on the first step to get out of the spa.
“Please don’t.” His voice is so serious that it stops me in my tracks. “I need to explain.”
I glance at him over my shoulder and see his expression matches his tone. “Okay.”
He nods. “I’ll be right back.”
I follow his retreating back and mentally calculate and catalog all the reasons why it’s a bad idea for me to be half naked and wet within the confines of this hot tub with Cash King. But when I see the shy grin he sends me before he disappears into the house, I know I’m not going anywhere.
The next few minutes are spent shoring up my defenses against men who love the spotlight and measure their worth by their bank account.
That’s not him.
I correct the little voice in my head. It is him, but that’s not all there is to him. It’s that last part that has my butt planted in this hot tub waiting for him to return. I’ve never forgotten those hours we spent together working on our science project, or how he seemed to really care about what I had to say. But mostly I can’t forget the boy who hid under all his teenage bravado, but felt he had to prove something to the world. I only got glimpses of that guy, and I don’t think he intended to tell me about his mom, but in those moments we spent together, it was like he got his hooks into me. And in twelve years, I’ve not been able to dislodge them.
A muscled leg dusted with dark hair steps into the spa next to my head. I turn and barely contain a groan as his narrow hips and broad back sink beneath the water. He turns and re-positions himself on the seat across from me. Luckily, he’s so preoccupied with whatever is going on in his head that he doesn’t seem to notice my tongue practically hanging out of my mouth.
Time passes, and the only sound is the bubbling of the hot tub. Cash watches the sky, and I watch Cash, unable to tear my gaze from his chest and the column of his neck.
“I owe you an explanation.” He’s still examining the stars like the answers to life can be found there.
“Alright.” Anticipation is like an electric current just under my skin. I find that I want to know everything there is to know about this man. And believe me, I’m not happy about this fact.
He pushes his wet hands through his hair and smooths it back from his face. “I …”
The look he gives me clearly indicates he’d like a lifeline, but I won’t give him one. He lied to me, and he does owe me an explanation.
“First, I’m sorry for lying and for not sticking around to tell you what was going on.” The earnestness in his face holds the breath in my lungs hostage. “It was wrong, and disrespectful. Can you forgive me?”
My mouth opens, then closes and opens again, but nothing comes out. I probably look like a largemouth bass with a crush on the homecoming king. Finally, I squeeze, “Yes” through my vocal cords.
He nods. “Thank you.”
I finally gather my wits and say, “I feel like I need to apologize too, because you were clearly upset, but I’m not sure what I did.”
He shakes his head. “You didn’t do anything. It was all me. I …” His big hands go to the back of his head, and he looks to the heavens again. “Shit. I’ve spent the last few hours trying to figure out what to say.”
“Is it about your dad?”
Mocha eyes examine me. “Partly … mostly, but that’s not all of it.” He looks away and slides his teeth over his bottom lip. “I don’t like being reminded that I was a poor kid with an abusive father, and that walk down memory lane brought up all the shit from the past.”