Wreck Me (Nova #4)(83)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

“Oh, no you don’t.” I cross my arms over my chest as I back away. I have a strapless black shirt on paired with red shorts. Beneath my attire is a bikini that I have no intention of showing anyone. The only reason I’m wearing it is because I don’t own another swimsuit.

“Hey, that’s not fair.” He chases after me as I whirl around and run. “You didn’t give me any warning when you decided to fondle me, so I couldn’t run.”

“That’s your own damn fault for flaunting your goodies.” Laughter bursts from my lips as I sprint down the shoreline away from the fire and near where the waves embrace the sand.

I don’t make it too far before his arms are circling around me, and he spins me around to face him.

“Don’t pretend like you don’t want me to.” His hand curves over my hip, making a path to my stomach. My muscles constrict as he slides his palm up my tank top, his fingers splayed against my flesh as his hand rest just below the bottom of my swimsuit top. He doesn’t go any farther, probably because I’ve panicked before when his hands wander up my shirt. He’s never said anything about it aloud, but I know he briefly felt the scars and has to wonder where they came from.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, almost as if his words confound him.

“Smooth,” I joke, but my voice is raspy.

“I’m being serious.” Puzzlement sketches deep into his face. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever touched… wanted to touch.”

“Tristan, you don’t have to say this kind of stuff to me. I’m not the kind of girl that needs a constant reminder that she’s gorgeous. Anyone can tell me I’m beautiful. It’s trust that wins me over, and you’ve been doing good with that.”

“I know you think I have,” he utters quietly, his fingers softly caressing the skin just below my breast. “But I just wanted you to know… need you to understand that you’re different. The past relationships I’ve been in… Well, there’s been none. In fact, I’ve never even slept with a girl I’ve been attracted to.”

Was this what he needed to talk to me about? It doesn’t seem so bad. Shocking, yes. The potential to wreck me, no. “Never? Not once?”

He slowly shakes his head. “I was mostly used for… stuff—drugs… not really wanted by anyone… and sometimes I’d use it to my benefit to get stuff… drugs. I’ve never been in a relationship, and I honestly don’t even know how they’re supposed to work.”

I battle to suppress the pain, not just his, but my own, because his words remind me of my sins.

“Is that what you wanted to tell me?”

He gulps then nods. “I’ve done a lot of things… slept with a lot of women… done a lot of drugs… the two coinciding…” A deafening exhale puffs from his lips. “But I’m clean now. From everything. I swear. I’ve been tested and everything and haven’t had sex since that happened.”

I contemplate what he’s said, what he’s really said. This is reality, and it’s brutal and ugly and bumpy and doesn’t sweep me off my feet. I think of the time I lay under the stars with Conner, and we said I love you before having sex for the first time. I felt like I was in a dream because it was fake. Conner was fake. Tristan is real.

“We’ve all made stupid choices in our lives,” I finally say, thinking about my own choices. “The important thing is you’re not doing that stuff anymore and that you’re clean now.” I smile reassuringly at him.

“Of course I am… I would never do anything while I’m with you. Honestly, I never want to do that stuff again—go back to being that person,” he says, almost panicking. “I just felt like I needed to tell you so you know what you’re getting into. And, yeah, so you understand just how extremely beautiful you are to me.”

He’s so flirty all the time, calling me cute and adorable with such ease, but standing here in front of me, being serious when he tells me I’m beautiful, makes him look like a guy that lacks self-confidence.

“I’m not using you,” I’m compelled to say, hoping it’ll erase the self-doubt in his expression. “Trust me. I haven’t let a guy touch me in two years. I’m super picky when it comes to letting people in.”

“I know you’re picky,” he says almost reverently, his fingers brushing against the bottom of my breast. “It confuses me why you let me touch you like this.”

“Because I want you to…” I trail off, listening to the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore as the lukewarm water kisses at our bare feet.

I tell myself to just spit it out, my own secrets, now that he’s given me his, but the words get stuck in my mouth. So instead, I run my fingers over the defined lines of the half skull, half human tattoo on his chest and ask, “You said once that all your tattoos have meanings, right? So what does this one mean?”

He smiles but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s just one I got after I almost overdosed. I was in a weird state of mind at the time.”

“Like you felt half alive and half dead?” I whisper, stretching my fingers across the tattoo.

He nods quizzically. “How did you know?”

I shrug. “Just a guess.” I’m such a liar.

I know because I once felt that way to.

Neither of us speaks for quite some time and I start to question if we’re going to stand in silence forever. But then an unexpected grin spreads across Tristan’s face, and before I can react, his fingers sneak below the band of my swimsuit and enclose around my nipple.

“Payback time.” He presses his fingertips together and pinches my nipple with just enough pressure that I yelp. As tingles zealously ripple across my skin, I collapse into his touch.

“Jesus, Avery,” he says as he slips an arm around my back and catches me, “that was ridiculously quick.”

“What! They’re super sensitive, okay?” I bury my feet into the sand to regain my footing.

He cocks his head to the side as Charissa hollers at us from down the beach. “You know, I’d really like to explore that a bit more, see what really gets you riled up.”

A rush of excitement flutters deep in my stomach and coils downward. I sigh as I grab his hand, pulling him down the beach. “Come on. We’ll pick this up after we go say hi.”