Page 40 of From Coast to Coast
“Forget about it.”
“Do youlikethe smell of coconut?”
Ignoring the sly angle for a compliment, I dip my fork into a container of what looks like a quinoa salad and put a bite in my mouth. If I’m chewing, I can’t be expected to answer. Remy doesn’t start eating, but watches me with a grin on his face and humor in his eyes.
“I do use coconut shampoo and conditioner,” he admits. “I already warned you I was a stereotypical surfer. But if you don’t like it…”
“I like it,” I tell him, rolling my eyes at his look of glee. He sidles closer and presses into my side, rendering my left arm useless if I wanted to actually eat anything. I don’t mind, though. Having him touching me is more satisfying than putting food in my stomach.
“Tell you something?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“You were ignoring my texts, so I stopped to grab food as an excuse to come over, and make sure that you weren’t upset with me or with someone else.”
I cast my eyes to the opposite side of the room where my cell phone is lying facedown on the hall table. I’m not the kind of person who is attached to their electronics, and I rarely carry it around when I’m at home. I’d only started doing so more recently, when Ree and I had been chatting on the app. More important than my self-imposed electronic detox, however, is the implication behind his words.Holy shit, was he jealous?
It’s my turn to smile. Dropping my fork into the nearest container, I cross my arms.
“We only got home three hours ago,” I point out. “You really thought I had company over here?”
“No, of course not.” He waves a hand. “But youcouldhave, and since you were ignoring my texts, I was expecting the worst.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Remy! I’m the one who suggested to you that we keep this thing between us exclusive. Christ, have you forgotten that I haven’t been laid in two years? I couldn’t have had somebody over here even if I wanted to. And I wasn’t ignoring your texts—I was ignoring my phone. There’s a difference.”
“Well, now that I’ve made a fool of myself and ascertained that you’re alone and not mad at me, I can leave you in peace.”
“Oh, no you don’t,” I respond mildly, grabbing his forearm before he can step away from the island. Sliding my hand down his arm until it’s resting on top of his own, I indulge myself by brushing my thumb across his knuckles. “You came all this way, after all. Might as well get something out of it.”
“Vegan food?” he asks, nodding toward the half-eaten dinner.
“I guess it depends on what kind of meat qualifies as vegan.” I raise my eyebrows in a suggestive wiggle. He tips his head back and laughs.
Sliding his hand out from under mine, he turns to face me. Automatically, I mirror him. Without a second of hesitation, he reaches up to grab my face between his palms and drag me downward. I go easily, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling us together as he kisses me. When hemoves back a minute later, he skims his lips over my jaw and cheek as though enjoying the scratch of stubble against the sensitive skin. Tightening my arm, I angle my head and lean into it, content to let him do whatever he wants to me.
“This feels so good,” he says in wonder, leaning back and once more replacing lips with fingers. His thumbs slide over my jaw and up my cheek.
“You up for a repeat of last time?” I ask, already hard just thinking about it.
“No way.” He leans back further, trying to look at my face without going cross-eyed. His hands tighten on my cheeks and he narrows his eyes at me. “Last time was all about me, and we’re not doing that again. This time you get to have fun, too.”
“It’s cute that you think that wasn’t fun for me,” I tell him wryly. “And this whole thing is about you—you’re the one exploring and trying new things, right?”
“Right, but all of the new things I want to try entail you also blowing your load.” He takes a step back from me—I immediately drop my arm and let him go. “So, lead the way. You can have your way with me in any room of the house, I’m not picky.”
Snorting, I look at the mess of to-go containers on the island and decide it can be a problem for future Grayson. Holding out a hand for him, he’s quick to link his fingers with mine. The gesture makes him smile, and he gives my hand a little squeeze. Even though he knows where it’s located, I lead him down the hall toward my bedroom, lowering half of the kitchen lights on our way out.
When we get to my room, he drops my hand in favor of walking around the space and peering at my things. There is a stack of photographs on top of my dresser that shouldprobably be hung up or put in a book at some point—he points to them, glancing back over his shoulder at me.
“Can I?”
“Sure,” I tell him, watching as he eagerly starts flipping through the pictures and inspecting each one.
I start slowly undressing as he does, putting everything in the laundry as I go, until I’m standing in nothing but boxers. Remy is still peering avidly at the photographs, so I step into the bathroom to grab my toothbrush. I’m leaned against the doorframe, brushing my teeth and watching him, when he holds one up to show me. If he’s surprised by me being half-naked, he doesn’t show it.
“Nichols’ wedding?” he asks, and I nod.
“It was a small, private wedding. Less than twenty people,” I tell him, pulling the toothbrush out of my mouth to speak. “Only closest friends and family.”