Krush Page 2

  “Show off,” she muttered.

  He gave her a grin. “Tell me, Angel, how did you come by such a name?”

  She sat back and huffed. “Another cliché line?”

  He looked down, then met her gaze. “Yes, I’m sure you have heard that line many times, but I am genuinely curious.”

  She regarded the sincerity on his face. “My dad. When I was born, he called me his perfect lil angel and it stuck. They did have other, better, names picked out, but for some God-awful reason, decided to go with this one.”

  “You don’t like it?”

  “You’re really asking me that?” When all he did was raise his brows, she laughed. “I’m completely aware how people perceive me. Then I tell them my name and it’s like a double whammy. Invariably, it isn’t long and I get the ‘are you a stripper’ question.”

  He looked appalled. She still couldn’t decide his angle. And even though he said he didn’t have one, she knew that for a lie. Everyone had an angle. It was just a matter of time before he revealed it.

  “Tell me something about you.” That was enough about herself, and she popped a piece of grilled shrimp in her mouth.

  He wiped the corner of his lips with a napkin and laid it on the table. “What would you like to know?”

  “You don’t want to talk about yourself.” She lifted her chin, catching on to his hedging.

  “You don’t miss much, do you?” He leaned forward and laced his hands together. “I’m from a large family. I have three brothers and two sisters and we are all very close.”

  “But?”

  “But, what?”

  “I can hear it in your voice.”

  “But they are meddlesome.” He took a sip of his Corona. “I’m starting to think you are as well.”

  “Only to those who seem to be hiding something.”

  *

  Cole tilted his head back and laughed. “Do you always say what’s on your mind?”

  “Almost always.” Her black hair was stark against the white wicker chair and thankfully, she’d taken off her shades. He liked watching the play of light in her eyes.

  “Good. Don’t lose that.”

  She dipped her chin and looked him square on. “So what are you hiding?”

  “Nothing.” Not exactly a lie but it wasn’t exactly the truth either. “You ready to see more?”

  “Sure.”

  They walked outside, and when she was about to step into the road, he pulled her back as a moped sped by, barely missing her. With her back pressed to his front, he heard her sharp inhale. The top of her head stopped just below his chin so when she looked up, her lips were inches from his.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He released her, stepped back, and puzzled on the way his body reacted so strongly to hers. She wasn’t his normal type. Neither tan, tall, nor long-haired, she was the exact opposite of every woman he’d ever been with.

  “The locals drive chaotic. You have to watch out for them and their nimble fingers.”

  “I’ll remember that.” She gripped her bag tighter.

  They walked along the beach, where she abruptly sat in the sand. She pulled a large pad and a couple of pencils from her bag.

  “You’re an artist.” He sat crossed legged beside her, not touching.

  “I am.”

  Her sketch slowly became clear. A tiny pink shell lying in the sand. Something he never noticed, yet she saw it immediately and drew it in perfect, minute detail. His gaze slid to her face. The breeze blew strands of her hair, and her head tilted as she added more detail of the sand around the tiny shell.

  “I would have never seen it.” He looked at the shell and back at her. “Beautiful.”

  She lifted her head and shiny lips spread into a smile. “I do that. Notice things most people don’t. And yes, it is beautiful.”

  He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. Any other woman would have assumed he was talking about them. This girl thought he was speaking of the seashell.

  She leaned out, picked up the shell, and rubbed her thumb over the smooth surface. “Such a tiny thing, yet significant.”

  “Benzinho.”

  “What?”

  “Small.”

  She looked at the shell and repeated his word, mangling it with her accent. He stood and reached out his hand. “Come. We should get back to the boat.”

  She dropped her things into her bag, and looked up at him, hesitation in those expressive eyes, before she finally placed her hand in his.

  *

  The next morning, Angel ran the track with her headphones in, blaring Alien Ant Farm. The ship had everything, and this early there were very few people in the gym area. She hadn’t been able to sleep. She’d spent most of the night trying to sort her feelings, or lack-there-of, for Thrand. It utterly confused her. She spent a good several years pining for him, and then a chunk of her savings on this trip she’d thought necessary to purge him. Yet all she felt was relief.

  No pining.

  No missing his face.

  She was a fool.

  Then she saw Cole. In loose shorts and a tank, he put weights on a barbell. The muscles in his arms flexed, and he was in his own zone, headphones stuck in his ears. She debated whether or not to stop, but her feet made the decision for her.

  He looked up, his crooked smile appeared, and he pulled out an earbud. “Morning, Angel.”

  Goosebumps spread over her skin. His voice should be on lockdown. “Hi.”

  His caramel eyes zoomed over her sweaty form as he put more weight on the bar. “Early riser, too?”

  “Yup. Jog every morning. Or yoga.” Somewhere between last night and this morning she had lost the ability to carry on a conversation. Or maybe it was his damn voice at five a.m. Or his lips.

  “What are you listening to?”

  “Punk. What about you?”

  “Somehow that doesn’t surprise me. Latin.”

  They stood silent, staring at each other until it became utterly awkward. She turned to resume her run. “Have a good workout.”

  “Wait. Would you like to spend the day with me in San Juan?”

  She paused. “Why?”

  His brows shot up. “Why?”

  “Yes, why. I’m sure there are plenty of other women you could enjoy your time with. I’m not your norm.” Bingo. His flushed face said it all. “So I’m gonna let you off the hook, darlin’. Thanks for yesterday.”

  She shoved her bud back in her ear and took off, leaving him gaping. A shame, really. But the last thing she needed was to get tangled up with someone like that. Clean shaven and not a tattoo in sight, he wasn’t her norm either. She highly doubted his wallet had a chain. After she made a complete lap, he stepped in front of her, forcing her to stop.

  “You’re right. You’re not like any girl I’ve ever met. Maybe that’s why I want to get to know you. Friends.”

  She put her hands on her hips. “Friends? That’s all?”

  He rubbed beneath his chin and nodded. “Yes.”

  “Lie.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  He tugged her off the track, which had gotten busy enough that they were blocking traffic flow. “Not entirely.”

  His fingers touched hers lightly and whatever that was returned with a vengeance. The shock made her scalp prickle. His gaze lifted from their light touch to her face.

  “You’re different. Nice. Real. And…” He took a deep breath and glanced away. “I’d like to know someone real.”

  The way he emphasized the word real made her heart jump in her throat. He slid his hands into his pockets and looked down. His uncertainty puzzled her. She was positive he was not a man used to being unsure of himself, or unsure of anything for that matter. This was not one of his cliché pick-up lines.

  “Cole.” He tilted his head to look at her. “Okay.”

  The slow smile that curved his lips sent her heart plummeting right to her feet. He touched her cheek. Just the barest hint of skin to skin.

/>   “Thank you, Anjinho Anjo.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Little angel. I will meet you on at the Pool Bar in a couple of hours, yes?”

  She nodded. Her brain forced air into her lungs. He turned back to his weights and somehow she compelled her feet to move.

  Little angel.

  That’s what he’d called her. She all but ran to her room and fell across her bed. She could still feel that tiny touch to her cheek. If nothing else, that should have warned her this was a mistake.

  But what could really happen on a fourteen day cruise? It was just a blip of time in the whole scheme of things. She touched her face, stood, and looked in the mirror. Her pale skin was pink from more than just her run.

  Chapter Three

  The rainforests of San Juan were breathtaking. Worth the all day tour Cole insisted they take. The waterfalls and the dense foliage was like nothing she had ever seen. The next day they were in Philipsburg. And another day spent with him.

  Now they had a full day at sea, on their way to Half Moon Cay. Another place she’d never been. She sat on deck, under an umbrella, with her drawing pad in her lap, sketching out a waterfall she’d seen on San Juan.

  Cole sat right beside her, a beer in his hand. “Can I see your drawings?”

  Her first instinct was to refuse, but she turned toward him. Those warm eyes looked steadily back into hers and she handed him her pad.

  “I never show anyone.”

  “Why not?” he asked as he flipped slowly through each page. She fiddled with her pencil as he paused on page after page of Thrand. “Is this a boyfriend?”

  Of course he would ask. “No. That’s Thrand, a regular in my dad’s bar. I…” She hesitated and blew out a breath when Cole looked at her. “I had a stupid crush on him. He didn’t return the feeling. Which is the entire reason I’m on this boat. To get some space, to figure out what I want to do with my life.”

  “Has it helped?” He continued to flip, pausing now and then to study one of her drawings.

  “That’s the funny part. I don’t even miss him. I pined after the guy for years, and the first time I get away from him, I feel nothing at all. I’m a shallow fool.”

  *

  A rush of jealousy hit Cole as he looked at the many, many drawings of Thrand. But her words made him stop and focus on her. “You are neither shallow nor a fool. Those two things I am well acquainted with.” Too acquainted with unfortunately.

  “I wasted time waiting for him to notice me as more than a friend. I look back now¸ and all I did was wait. It’s like I pushed a big pause button on my life.” She huffed out a breath and shoved her hands in her hair. “I could have been doing something. Like pursuing my dreams.”

  “And what is your dreams?”

  “Owning my own shop. Selling my art and the clothes I design.”

  Now the pin up style dresses drawn in her pad made sense. “So talented. This is your creation?”

  He held up the pad to show one of the dresses. He knew nothing about clothes, but he had an eye for good design.

  “Yup. A lot of the clothes I wear are mine. But all that talent is wasted sitting in my notepads.”

  He closed it and handed it back to her. “You may think you’ve wasted time, but now you have a stock full of art. When you go home, you can work on putting that dream into motion.”

  “I guess. And I have been saving money—until I blew a chunk on this cruise.”

  He rested his head against the deck chair and met her gaze. “Sometimes you have to get away to get perspective. I am here alone for a similar reason.”

  “Sorry, but I won’t believe you’re here because some girl didn’t fall at your feet.”

  He chuckled when she rolled her eyes at him but the truth of his reality weighed like a stone. “No. But two years ago my wife died in a car crash. My life has been on hold ever since.”

  He didn’t tell her the whole story. No one knew it in its entirety. Not even his family. He’d been numb these last two years, going through the motions. The cruise had been his last effort to snap out of it and get out from under his overbearing family. They meant well, but he just wanted some peace.

  She reached out and held his hand, remorse in those deep blue eyes. “I am so sorry.”

  He took the opportunity to cling to her hand. He stared at her and tried to analyze just what she was making him feel. He knew what lust was. This was… more. Her face pinked, her lips parted, and he swung his feet so he faced her and sandwiched her hand between both of his. She attempted to pull her hand away, but he wouldn’t let her.

  “I believe things happen for a reason. Out of our control. Sometimes it has to be bad to get us where we are supposed to be.” He turned her hand palm up and traced the faint creases.

  Her eyes narrowed and her body stiffened. “What are you saying?”

  “Not what you’re thinking. And all that aside, this,” he brushed his calloused thumb over her dainty hand, “is something. I don’t know what it is, but it’s there.”

  She jerked her hand away. “You said friends. That’s all.”

  He leveled his eyes on her. “Are you telling me you don’t feel it?”

  He couldn’t help but smile when she lifted her chin. “I think you’re trying to play off my sympathies.”

  “You’re the one who said I could have any girl I want. You’re right, Angel. I haven’t been with many but… I can. I have. Nothing was there.”

  “Then why the hell are you wasting your time with me? Go play with some Barbie and leave me alone.” She swung her legs so their bare knees bumped.

  Anger made her eyes spark and her small hands fisted. He placed his hands gently on either side of her face and leaned in closer. “Because you are different. Real. And whatever this flicker is, we both feel it. Are you not curious?”

  “Lust,” she spat. “Plain and simple.”

  He shook his head, and this thumb brushed along her lower lip. “No. Lust is—you see it. You want it. You take it. And you forget it. That is lust.”

  “Isn’t that what you’re attempting to do?”

  “No. I want to get to know you. I like to see you smile and I want it to stay there. I want to know what makes you tick and what pushes you to the edge. I want to know what you think about. That has nothing to do with lust.”

  His breath came hard as he stared into her face. That perfect face with those expressive eyes. She couldn’t hide her shock or the shadows of doubt that filled her mind.

  “You’re trying to play me.” But her words lacked punch, and her bottom lip quivered.

  “No. I’m not a player. Never have been.”

  “You just said you could have any girl you want. That’s the definition of a player.”

  “I can. Doesn’t mean I do.”

  She sucked in a breath and jerked her head back so his hands fell away. “I don’t know you or trust you. Just because I look like a stupid doll doesn’t mean I am. I grew up around men who would make you piss yourself. So if you think you can get one over on me, you’re in for a surprise.”

  “Wow. And I thought I had trust issues. I never thought you were a ‘stupid doll’ and I don’t scare easily.” He stood. “I don’t know you, but I want to. I know there is more to you than what most people see. Too bad you’re the one underestimating and judging me.”

  He left her sitting there, dodged families and honeymooners, and headed for his room. If she wanted to talk to him, she knew how to get a hold of him. He didn’t know why he’d opened up as much as he had, but getting it tossed back in his face was not what he expected. The girl had walls. High, thick walls.

  He’d never been jealous. It was odd and foreign. Never experienced it with Melanie, his deceased wife. It surprised him that he’d felt more with this little hell-cat than he ever had with her. Or anyone.

  In his room, he sat down at his laptop. Work was what he should be doing. He needed to finish the layout of the house he was designing. He booted
up his computer and stared out the large stretch of glass that led out to his balcony and the view of the endless ocean.

  Would Angel contact him? What would he do if she didn’t? Could he just let her go and always wonder what-if?

  *

  Angel stared at the empty lounge chair Cole had left. Her mind jumbled with all the things he’d said. She released a breath and fell back against the lounger. She’d felt it. She knew exactly what he was talking about, and no, she had never had that zing with anyone else. She instinctively fell back on her usual and shut him out. Except, he didn’t act the way every other guy had.

  He’d called her on it. Accused her of being the judgmental one.

  She’d put on her bitch purposely and it worked.

  He left.

  She shoved her stuff in her bag, went straight to her room, and sat on her tiny balcony. Tears tracked down her face and she wiped at them angrily. Tears she thought she’d be shedding for Thrand, and yet he’d barely jarred her thoughts. Cole’s warm brown eyes stayed in the forefront of her mind.

  I like to see you smile and I want it to stay there. I want to know what makes you tick and what pushes you to the edge.

  No one had ever said anything like that to her before. All the one-night-stands she’d had. Guys who declared their ever-lasting love and she hadn’t felt a damn thing. She thought it was because she wanted Thrand.

  She put her bare feet on the railing and put her chin in her hands.

  No. What she wanted—was to be wanted. Someone to see her… really see her.

  What if Cole was the only one to ever try?

  Could she let her insecurities shut him out?

  This entire trip so far had been one eye-opener after another and not in the way she’d anticipated.

  She watched the sun sink into the water and sat alone. She’d looked at her phone a hundred times. Would he text?

  He never did.

  They were supposed to go ashore at Half Moon Cay tomorrow. It was almost the halfway mark of her trip. So she texted him.

  You still talking to me?

  C: Of course. Just waiting for you.

  Waiting for me?

  C: To see if you would speak to me again.