“We weren’t sleeping at our cottage. We were at Zara’s parents’ place. Not that it matters. If they figure out we’re gone, my parents will hear about it, eventually. But they usually never hear us, and we’ve been known to talk all night.”
He stared out at a moonlit Lake Michigan and shifted on his feet.
“Asher?”
“Yeah?”
“Is everything okay?”
He focused on her face. “Yeah,” he said after a pause.
He saw her swallow. “It’s not, though. Is it?” she asked so quietly that he almost didn’t hear her voice above the distant surf. “Have you changed your mind about what you said this afternoon? Would you rather not see me again, after everything I told you?”
“What? No.”
“I’m not easy.” She seemed to hear what she’d said and laughed self-consciously. “I mean, I know it’s complicated. I’m complicated. We would be.”
He stepped forward rapidly and wrapped his arms around her, the fronts of their bodies coming into contact. God, she felt better than he’d been anticipating. If that was even possible.
“I know it’s complicated. I know it too well,” he said, looking down into her upturned face. He stepped even closer, pressing their bodies tight, feeling himself spark to life. “It’s worth it.”
“But why are you acting so mad? Is it really just because of Eric?”
“I’m mad because I’m just as selfish as him,” he admitted, his hands moving of their own volition along her supple back.
“What?”
“I’m pissed because your parents would hate the idea of you seeing me. I’m mad because this stupid plan of Eric’s might be risking any chance of seeing you again. I’m furious because even though I hate my stupid cousin, I’m starting to think I’m being just as selfish with you as he’s being with Zara. I don’t like to be compared to Eric. Especially in my own head.”
He saw her face go flat with amazement at his bitter recitation of facts.
“You mean that you think you’re being like Eric, because all you want to do is have a vacation fling with me, no matter what the circumstances?” she asked, her voice sounding hollow. He cringed inwardly.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Laila. I don’t. And I’m not Eric. But I’m no saint either.” He gritted his teeth in determination and palmed her ass, pressing her tight against his aroused body to make a point.
“Do you feel that? I want you . . . in a way I don’t remember ever wanting anything,” he stated hoarsely. “Where do you think this is going to go, if we keep this up? Is that what you want?”
He saw her mouth fall open at his display of crudeness. Damn. He was turning her off, but he only wanted to be fair—
“Let’s go for a walk,” she said softly.
“I’m . . . what?”
Starlight and moonlight gleamed in her eyes as she looked up at him. Or maybe it was just Laila herself. She shone all on her own.
“Down the dune a ways. Let’s go find a private spot,” she clarified, backing out of his embrace and taking his hand.
• • •
They walked for several minutes. She wasn’t sure what had come over her, saying what she had. Her skin was flushed with heat and it felt like a hundred butterflies fluttered in anxious desperation in her stomach. If everything didn’t look so crystal clear in front of her eyes, and if her senses weren’t pitched to such a high degree, she’d think she was getting sick.
“How’s this?” she heard Asher say beside her. He waved at an empty stretch of dune, the sand gleaming white in the moonlight. Laila nodded and started to sit.
“Wait,” he said abruptly. She paused, still standing, and glanced back at him expectantly. “Your shorts. They’re really . . .” He cleared this throat. “Thin.”
She brushed her hands against her hips and buttocks, feeling the insubstantial cotton and her panties beneath it. Was the moonlight so strong Asher was seeing through her clothes? He started unbuttoning his shirt.
“What are you doing?” she asked. He didn’t respond immediately, just whipped his shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He was muscular, but lean. The ridges of his cut torso rippled in the pale silver light. He spread his shirt on the sand. “You don’t have to—”