My building came into view, towering above the beach farther down the sand. Heat coursed through my body and all the blood went straight into my shorts. Clearly, my intense, punishing run hadn’t been enough to dull the desire I felt for her.
I kept running. My gaze followed the line of waves crashing at the shore, and my attention was snagged by someone walking across the sand toward the water.
Her dark hair whipped behind her, tangling in the wind off the water, and she was wearing a too-large white shirt, the sleeves hanging well past her hands.
Roxie.
She was wearing my shirt.
Good God, this woman had a habit of wearing my shit and making it look amazing. Her long, tan legs stretched down to the sand, her feet bare. She was probably naked beneath my button-up.
I picked up the pace.
My eyes never wavered from her as I ran, and I watched as the water rushed up the shore at her feet and she squealed and dashed backward.
I am going to love her ‘til the day I die.
She was it for me.
The end.
The beginning.
My everything.
I smiled because I knew she must have found my note.
As if she sensed me, Roxie turned and glanced in my direction. Her body changed when she recognized it was me.
A smile broke out over her face and she started jogging toward me. The tails of my dress shirt trailed behind her and the front plastered against her body.
I slowed my pace when I was almost to her, and she laughed, launching herself at me.
I caught her with ease, and her legs wrapped around my waist.
“I got your note,” she said with a grin.
I moved in to kiss her. She squealed. “You’re all sweaty!”
“Didn’t stop you from leaping into my arms,” I drawled.
“You need a shower,” she said, a twinkle in her eyes.
Yeah, that got me rock hard. Just the thought of her in the shower with water running down her naked body…
I dropped onto the sand, pinning her beneath me and attacking her lips with mine. She laughed, but it quickly turned into a moan, and her arms slid around my neck to match my kiss with one of her own. I made sure I rubbed my sweaty self all over her front and smooshed her in the sand so her hair got full of it.
“Hey!” she yelled between kisses. “You’re making me a mess!”
I pulled back to grin down at her. “Now you need a shower too.”
“Good thing I’m already half naked,” she purred.
My hand slid up the outside of her leg and my fingers skimmed against the skin where her panties should have been. I felt my eyes grow wide.
“Roxie!” I growled and looked around for prying eyes. “I’m trying real hard not be possessive of you, sweetheart, but you’re making it fucking impossible.”
“Being possessed by you doesn’t seem so bad,” she said softly.
“How about being loved by me instead?” I asked, kissing the tip of her nose.
“That sounds even better.”
I jumped to my feet and grinned at the sexy mess she was in the sand. She pushed up onto her elbows and grimaced. On impulse, I swept her up in my arms and starting walking toward the stairs that led to my building, her laugh floating behind us the entire way.
23
Roxie
For once in my life, I didn’t mind waking up.
With Adam’s scent surrounding me, silky sheets beneath my body, and knowing whose arms I slept in, I was frankly thrilled to be awake.
Maybe Adam was the ultimate cure for my all-hate relationship with morning.
I rolled over and reached for him, but the bed was empty. The pillow still bore the indent from his head, but he was gone.
I sat up and pushed the hair out of my face and looked around the room. Also empty. Sunlight streamed through the windows because we’d never bothered to close the curtains. The view was absolutely stunning.
Sunlight sparkled on the ever-moving water, the blue sky stretched on forever, and the white-capped waves slowly rolled in. The air smelled of salt and sea, and I took a deep breath. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt so relaxed.
Being here with Adam was incredible. He was incredible. He was even more than I imagined.
I wondered if maybe he was in the kitchen making coffee, but then I giggled because Adam didn’t make coffee. The one time I saw him attempt it, he caught the pot on fire.
Maybe he’d gone out for coffee.
I flopped back into the pillows and grinned up at the ceiling. I was in Adam’s bed. I was naked.
Harlow was never going to believe it when I told her.
I became aware of certain parts of my body, parts that hadn’t been utilized in a while. I was stiff and sore. I felt slightly swollen, but it was awesome. I stretched out, wiggling my toes and lifting my arms above my head. I rotated my hips to the side and caught a dark shadow.
Frowning, I looked down.
Then I burst out laughing.
I rolled my head to the side and saw the black Sharpie lying on the table beside the bed. I laughed again and then bounded off the bed and into the adjoining bath.
Adam’s apartment was very modern. All dark wood, sleek lines, and chrome fixtures. It was definitely a house a man would live in, but there was nothing cold about it. It was inviting. I loved it here.
I lifted my eyes above the white stone countertop and into the huge mirror. A grin spilt my face.
Adam didn’t go without leaving me a note.
On my body.
I brought my finger up and traced the outlined of his hand-drawn message. My heart swelled just staring at the message.
He was down on the beach. I remembered he said he ran every morning.
He could have found a piece of paper or even a napkin.
But he didn’t.
He wrote it on my skin.
Right on the inside of my hipbone, in a place only I would see. I loved it. I absolutely loved it. Maybe he was only being silly. Maybe he got a kick out of drawing on me.
But this was so much more to me than marker.
Thank goodness it was permanent because I already worried about it fading away. At least this way it would last a little bit longer.
I traced the image again, letting my finger touch the marks he made, the heart he drew. Craig and I had been together a long time, many years, in fact. It wasn’t often he gave me anything. Yeah, when we first started dating, when things were good, he sometimes brought me a rose, and we went out on a couple dates, just the two of us.
I couldn’t even begin to count the number of times I woke up and he wasn’t there. The number of days he would be out on a binge and never call, never think that maybe I would be worried. It’s like I meant so little to him that he never thought of me at all.