Page 55 of Someone Exactly Like Me (Wounded Hearts 1)
“Even though I’m a playboy?” I tease.
A wave washes onto our feet.
“Well, that’s currently under debate.” Her smile carries a playfulness.
“Am I allowed to ask you questions?”
“Sure.”
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Hmm, healthy or unhealthy?” She reaches down and picks a shell out of the sand.
I laugh. “Both.”
“Healthy would be the spinach salad I make and unhealthy would be chocolate molten lava cake.” Tilting back her head she lets out a delicious growl that makes me wish we were alone and naked.
“That good, huh?”
“Oh yeah.” She nods with a huge smile on her face.
“Okay, another one. Why do you think you’re struggling with your career right now?”
She takes a long inhale and blows it out, dragging her toes through the wet sand. “I really wish I knew. If I knew, I’d have a chance at fixing it.” She shrugs. “I can’t seem to find inspiration. My life’s pretty boring these days. Candi and I used to do a lot together and many of our adventures fueled some fun stories. I have friends other than Candi, of course, but most of them have nine-to-five jobs and a lot of them have babies now so we don’t get together much, let alone do things like girls’ weekends away. My love life leaves a lot to be desired so my writing’s been falling flat there as well.”
“So, your life is lacking adventure and really good sex.” I can’t help but smile as I tease her.
She nudges my arm with hers. “Thanks, very helpful.” She chuckles.
“What about this Henry guy you mentioned? You’re sure there’s nothing there?”
“I’m sure. Life wouldnotbe an adventure with Henry. I wouldn’t date him anyway.”
“So, you wouldn’t date me, you wouldn’t date Henry. What type of person would you date?”
“I dated my fiancé.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Three years.”
“That’s a long time.”
“I know. And Candi keeps reminding.” She chuckles.
“So, based on what I know about you so far, I’m guessing you haven’t had sex for three years.” I get itchy when it’s been three weeks, I can’t imagine going three years.
“You make it sound so awful.”
“I can take care of that for you.” I exaggerate a sleezy voice so she knows I’m joking.
“Um, I thought you were trying to prove you’renota playboy.” She laughs. “Not all of us want to have meaningless sex with people and then move on.” She picks up another shell and hands it to me. “Here, for you to remember your trip to the beach. Ready to walk back?”
“Thank you.” I take the shell from her. The sentiment tugs at my heart. I’ll rememberhermore than I’ll remember the beach. “Yeah.”
We turn around and walk the shoreline back toward our umbrella.
“I love the sound of the waves. They make their own music,” she says.
