What We'll Leave Behind Read online

  “Julian.” She had said his name so perfectly, like each letter was voiced with delicate precision.

  Once he opened his eyes, he pushed his desires away. The hesitant look in her eye screamed ‘friends.’ In the end, that was what they’d be. But he’d be damned if he missed out on the knowledge of what her lips were like on his.

  Baby steps, Julian.

  “I didn’t think you’d come,” he confessed.

  Stephanie shrugged. “You wanted me to for some reason. And well, my roommate booted me out of the room. I don’t know where the other girls are, so I thought what the hell.”

  “This feels like a booty call. I’m offended,” he teased.

  She shook her head. “That was lame.”

  “Do-over?” he asked.

  “Not on your life,” she sassed.

  Shoulders sagging, Julian spun around and looked back at the fire. “You’re kinda mean, Blondie.”

  Seconds passed as she stood next to him, also staring at the flames. “You should be used to it. We’re friends, remember?”

  Julian didn’t have to face her to know that she had a grin on her face. The teasing tone in her voice confirmed it for him. The twitching in his chest moved to the tips of his fingers, and he knew he was potentially a movement away from their hands brushing.

  Taking a deep breath, Julian finally shifted his gaze from the fire to her. It was like she had lost herself in the red and orange flames. Like she had found her escape. Whether or not she was running from something was another question. But as of right now, it wasn’t his place to ask.

  “Want to get a drink?” he asked.

  Stephanie didn’t reply straight away. She kept her eyes focused on the bonfire for a long moment before she exhaled and said, “Sure.”

  “Come along, then,” he said, reaching for her hand.

  But she took a step back then raised an eyebrow at him. “Whoa. You all right there?”

  She doesn’t like hand-holding.

  But I like hand-holding.

  He exhaled a bothered sigh. “Sorry. A momentary lapse in brain activity,” he offered.

  She let out a hum. “Nice attempt at damage control.”

  He bowed his head. “Thank you. I do try my best.”

  She laughed. It wasn’t loud or soft. It was medium. It was reserved and sweet. It was perfect.

  I love—like. I like her laugh.

  His eyes widened. He needed to remove that L-word from his vocabulary and most definitely from all of the dictionaries of the world. It was a word that had been conjured up by a madman for those with faith to believe in it.

  “Here,” she said, pulling him from his suffocating thoughts.

  Julian glanced down to see that she was holding her hand out. Then he lifted his eyes and met hers. There was a glimmer of different emotions—weariness, confusion, excitement, and wonder. All of them captivated him.

  “Sorry. I don’t hold hands.”

  Stephanie’s upper lip twitched. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath and then stepped closer to him.

  “This is a now-or-never moment,” she warned.

  He pouted and let his shoulders sag. “Fine,” he whined.

  She held her hand higher. “I’m waiting.”

  “You can put it right there,” he instructed, using the index finger of his left hand to point at the palm of his right.

  Blondie glared; by far one of the sexiest pissed-off faces he had ever seen, causing the corners of his mouth to stretch.

  “I’ll do what?” she asked, annoyed.

  “Fine. If you want to hold my hand that badly.” He faked a sigh and quickly intertwined his fingers in hers.

  Well, fuck me.

  Magic. Witchcraft. The devil. All of them. It was the only way to describe the electric charge that flowed from the tips of his fingers to the ends of his toes. Hand-holding had just become one of his favourite things a human could do. Skin on skin. Stephanie’s soft palm against his. No one. No other woman had caused such a frantic explosion of anxiety, need, want, and desire.

  “So, that drink?” Stephanie pulled at his hand, tugging him towards the bar.

  Julian followed, his eyes continuously staring at the perfect way their hands fit and how amazing it felt. When Stephanie broke their contact, Julian’s stare quickly moved to her. They were at the bar. His feet had mindlessly kept up with her.

  The lanterns of the bar lit her smile as she ordered. Then she laughed and his heart began to sting. Not in the way a cut would. But the way aloe vera relieved burning skin. Stephanie’s laugh relieved his heart.

  What a fucking feeling.

  He grinned. Though he shouldn’t, he loved her smile. ‘Like’ wasn’t strong enough. ‘Enjoyed’ didn’t do it justice. But love. Love was both. Love was more. Love was her smile.

  “Earth to Julian?”

  A slow blink followed by a series of quick ones, Julian looked around and realised that the local bartender was starting at him with a cocked eyebrow.

  “Sorry. Sometimes, you bore me enough where I sleep with my eyes open,” he teased.

  Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Shut up and order.”

  “Aye, captain.” Julian saluted her as the bartender handed her a glass. “I’ll grab a Corona with lemon, please.”

  Stephanie held her glass in one hand and used the fingers of her other hand to hold the straw as she sipped. Never in his entire life had he been jealous of such simple objects. But he was. He was jealous of a glass and a straw. Specifically, the straw since her lips were around them—he was wishing they were on him instead.

  Various places of his body.

  Her lips on his skin.

  He groaned and hoped to God that his hard-on backed the fuck off.

  Whiskey.

  Shit.

  Oh, God. I need something stronger than bloody beer.

  I could throw myself into the ocean.

  But she’d think that’s weird…

  I’m weird.

  Like on autopilot, Julian took the cool beer from the bartender and turned in the direction of the water. He imagined the water to be cold, hoping it was as freezing as the arctic. Cold enough to give him hypothermia. Just the thought of it all was enough to slow the nervous tremors within him. It was enough to calm him down so he could eventually face Stephanie.

  She had an eyebrow raised, and her lips were no longer on the straw. This time, only one hand wrapped around the glass and her other was by her side. He ignored every warning his brain gave and let his needy heart win. Julian reached over and took her hand in his. He didn’t say anything. He only smiled as he led them towards the shore and away from the party.

  Where they ended up sitting was secluded. The party and tourists were far away. The only sound they could hear was the approaching waves. They said nothing as they drank their beverages and watched the water almost reach their toes before it retreated.

  If he could, he’d keep her right here—on this beach, at this moment, with the stars as their witnesses and the moon giving them its blessing. One perfect night in Thailand.

  “J’aime ce moment avec vous. C’est la perfection,” she whispered when they had placed their empty glasses beside them.

  Julian took his eyes off the blinking star he had been gazing at and looked at her. Stephanie didn’t turn his way as a contented smile overtook her beautiful face. He’d never paid attention in French class. He had only done a compulsory year before doing home economics. Where else could you eat your A+? Not in bloody French class. And now, having just heard Stephanie speak it, he wished he understood.

  “Look at the stars, Julian,” Stephanie instructed softly.

  And he did. Each one twinkled brightly but not beautifully. Not with Stephanie out tonight. She had stolen the stars’ gleam.

  Suddenly, Stephanie leant closer to him until her arm touched his and her head was resting on his shoulder. The small sigh she made had his heart doing wondrous beats and stretches. So new. So painful. And
so wanted.

  He knew instantly that friends were out of the question. He wanted a lot more than just hand-holding. A lot more. And tonight was the start. After his own contented sigh, he wrapped his right arm around Stephanie’s back, scooted her in closer, and settled his palm on her thigh. She didn’t flinch or move away. She seemed to want those things, too.

  “Say it again, Stephanie?” he asked. Then he closed his eyes, allowing himself to feel each French word she spoke burn themselves into his soul.

  “J’aime ce moment avec vous. C’est la perfection,” she repeated in that same soft tone.

  He didn’t hold back as he kissed the top of her head and whispered, “C’est la perfection,” ready for the sun to chase the moon.

  The ceiling fan continued to spin, and Stevie continued to watch it. Round and round it went. It also made a noise. One that should have made her nervous as to whether it was actually bolted securely to the ceiling. Death by a falling fan was better than hearing her roommate having early morning sex. There was nothing more cringing than hearing Roxy moan ridiculously. It didn’t even sound like pleasure. It sounded like someone was cutting her from head to toe and then sewing her up wrong. It was seriously off-putting. And then there were the giggles. Terrible, horrible giggles.

  Though Stevie had no clue about the actual physical act of sexual intercourse, she knew that Roxy and the Scot were doing something wrong or abnormal. Was sex all about the ear-deafening moans and cringe-worthy giggles? She hoped not.

  For some reason, Stevie had always believed there to be more. The emotional connection in sex. Something the boys she had dated in high school hadn’t been able to give. Eric Jacobs had gotten close, but Stevie had just wanted to break the cherry and be done. Then Eric had said that he wanted to fuck her good, but she had wanted to throw up the moment he had tried to touch her. That was when she had realised she wanted more than just a fuck.

  However, there was one man’s touch she wanted. One she craved, and when the slightest contact had occurred, she’d almost melted. The desire was embarrassing. The neediness was worse. But cool was her game. She wouldn’t let her fantasies of Julian get the better of her.

  Last night had deviated from her expectations. Stevie had thought they’d have a drink and then she’d return to the room she was sharing with Roxy. Instead, she’d spent the night with her head on his shoulder, watching the sun slowly kiss the moon away. He had begged her to let him walk her home, but then he would have known too much. And that was crossing a boundary he had set when they’d first met on the beach.

  Julian felt familiar. Julian felt normal. Julian felt natural.

  But that was where it was all so wrong. Julian wasn’t meant to feel familiar or normal or natural. She had just met him. That smile had been breathtaking. And his charm had been alluring. Men like him weren’t real. So she had decided that she’d allow the make believe to continue. The pleading look from him was only another convincer. She had promised that, after some sleep, she’d meet him back on the beach.

  Sleep had come and sleep had gone. It was never constant. The heat didn’t help. It was more that she was excited to see him again, to see if her heart did the same little jumps. It was stupid. It was reckless. And in all honesty, she did not mind one bit.

  “Come back to my room,” the Scot said from the bed next to Stevie’s.

  “Why? Want round two?” Roxy asked.

  Seriously?

  “Babe, your shower isn’t big enough for the both of us, let alone me. I want your hands against the glass while I enter you from behind and stroke—”

  “JUST GO ALREADY!” Stevie yelled as she sat up and pointed at them both from her bed. “Seriously. Get out! I am about done with you two fucking like crazy. Roxy, go to his room and screw him. Scotsman, you’re a brave one, but I’d like this room not to smell like sex. For one full day, can I please have that?”

  “You’ve got a feisty friend, Rox,” the Scot said as he got out of bed, not bothering to cover up.

  A Scottish penis is not what I needed to see this morning.

  Stevie brows creased and her nose scrunched in disgust and then she shook her head. Roxy got dressed and started to pull clothes out of her suitcase. When Roxy and the Scotsman were both decent and Roxy had placed clothes and other items into a beach bag, she looked at Stevie.

  “Stevie, have a good day today, okay?” Roxy gave no sass or attitude, and she had used the name Stevie preferred. It sounded as honest as the slight smile on her face looked.

  Stevie blinked twice. “Yeah. You, too, Rox.”

  “Thanks.” And with that, Roxy had left the room with the Scotsman.

  The room was silent. No moans. No giggles. Just the annoying realisation that the fan could drop and kill her. Maybe she had gone one too far with Roxy. Maybe she shouldn’t have raised her voice. But one could only take so much listening to sex. It was like when porn got to be too much for some people… Well, she believed it was the same.

  With a sigh, Stevie reached over and grabbed her phone off the bedside table. After logging into her Facebook account, she accessed her inbox and sent her stepbrother, Jarred, a message. Thankfully, the resort’s free Wi-Fi meant she didn’t have to turn on international roaming and get slapped with an outrageous phone bill.

  Stevie Appleton: Have not died. Ceiling fan could make this message redundant. If so, you may have my room. Take care of the old man. Love you a little bit and sometimes a lot. Miss your ugly face!

  After she had sent the message, she tucked her phone under her pillow and made her way to the shower.

  Oh, Sun, do I love you.

  Stevie smiled, closed her eyes, and took in the feel of the warmth on her skin. This was living. This was free. This was breathing. Freedom had never been so sweet. After a moment of blissfulness, Stevie’s eyes swept the beach but didn’t see Julian. The disappointment was like a full-blown pang in her chest. She came to the conclusion that they had been out all night and he might have fallen asleep. Whether or not he’d show wouldn’t put a dent in her plans.

  Hugging her beach bag closer to her, Stevie made her way past tourists to find a spot on the sand not too far from where she had spent the night with Julian. The sparkle of the water was inviting, but she wasn’t quite brave enough to attempt it. She feared riptides, jellyfish, sharks, and—as stupid as it was—seaweed.

  Once she stepped out of her sandals, Stevie took her copy of To Kill a Mockingbird out and dropped her bag onto the sand without a care. As she flipped through the pages to a random chapter, she slowly sat down.

  Then she read.

  It was sometime later when she felt hands on her shoulders and a breath close to her ear.

  “Blondie, the sight of you is truly beautiful.”

  There was no denying the fact that there was a major possibility of a blush consuming the surface of her cheeks. In fact, she was in a period of ‘pretend and go with the flow.’ If he wanted to compliment her, then so be it. She placed the book down next to her and tilted her head to meet his face.

  Oh, sweet Jesus.

  That grin.

  Be cool, Stevie.

  The glimmer from his blue eyes matched the clear water. He didn’t look like he had spent all night on the beach with her. He had no tiredness on his face at all. Julian seemed to be just a perfect human being.

  “Nice to see you finally here. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re the one who begged to see me today? And you’re late.” She raised an eyebrow.

  Julian sighed, sounding like he was disappointed in himself. “I’m sorry, Stephanie.” His apology was meaningful and sweet.

  When he sat next to her, she did something completely out of her comfort zone with someone she had just met. She leant in close, whispered, “I forgive you,” and kissed his cheek.

  When she pulled back, surprise had taken over his face and his lips parted. Her heart sped up as she anxiously waited for the awkward ‘dude, we’re friends, remember?’ explanation for the almo
st frightened look on his face. But then he slowly smiled. It wasn’t a cocky smile like he had known the kiss was coming or deserved it. It was filled with a gratefulness she didn’t quite understand.

  “I should always be late, then.” His grin deepened as Stevie sat back down, shaking her head.

  “It was a now-or-never moment,” she explained.

  “No,” Julian said.

  She tilted her head. “Then what was it?”

  He crawled around her, and she tried to follow where he was going. Then he pressed his hard chest against her back, and with it, the breath she had taken dissipated—or became so thin that her head spun. Slowly, he moved her hair over her shoulder and kissed just where her shoulder and neck met, creating a curve. If that wasn’t the sexiest, most sensual thing that had graced women everywhere, then women of Earth hadn’t been blessed with Julian.

  “It is…” he trailed off before he placed his hands on her hips, bringing her even closer to his body. His lips grazed but never made proper contact. It was torturous, and it made her so needy and greedy.

  “Ah-huh,” Stevie mumbled as her eyes fluttered shut, relishing every sweet and hot touch he made.

  Then the bastard chuckled so smoothly that she didn’t care that she was slipping within his game. She was happy to be the loser. A loser was what she was.

  Julian pressed his mouth on the soft spot below her ear and whispered, “A memory vault moment.”

  A memory vault moment.

  When she turned her head, his lips made it to her cheek.

  “Read to me, Blondie.”

  She felt something touch her hand, and she knew it was her book. She took it in both hands and smiled at him.

  He then rested his chin on her shoulder and his hands on her thighs. Stevie couldn’t help but love how easy this was with him. She settled against his chest and looked down at the book, flicking through until she chose a random page.