Page 42 of Catch and Release
And then she released an embarrassing groan as he finished rubbing neosporin over one of the cuts high up on her thigh with his thumb.
Shawn looked up at her in confusion, then seemed to realize the position he was in: kneeling between her legs, his hands drifting up her thighs. Heat flared in his eyes as he stood up.
“You should clean those cuts a few times a day,” he said, his voice thick.
She nodded, and without another word, he left her kitchen.
Willa slid into a seat at the bar and waved at Amanda, who was taking the order of someone across the way. Attendance at her yoga classes had steadily increased, and the class tonight was fantastic. The group was engaged and fun, and people of all levels tried new things. Plus, the sunset was absolutely gorgeous over the water.
She thought she’d take the chance to get to know Amanda a bit before heading back home. It wasn’t completely dark out yet, but she was dreading going home.
She knew Shawn would come over to fish off the wharf tonight—it had become an easy, unspoken agreement between them. He came over every night with shrimp—free of charge—and they sat together and caught fish. Sometimes they released them back into the water, but she kept a lot of them in her freezer so she could eat them in the coming weeks. She always offered some to him, but he never took them.
Willa’s thighs clenched together as she thought back to how he’d tended to her earlier that day, the spark that jolted her as his fingers caressed her leg, how his hot breath felt on her.
And now she was trying to avoid going home, where she and Shawn would inevitably sit out on the wharf and try to pretend like there was no sexual tension between them.
“What can I get you?” Amanda said with a grin.
“A vodka soda with a lime.”
“On it.”
Amanda effortlessly mixed the drink in front of Willa and handed it to her.
“So how are you settling in?” Amanda asked, propping her chin on her hands.
“Good. I grew up coming here every summer, so honestly it just feels like coming home. It’s nice being here. What about you? How long have you lived here?”
“Moved down here about a year ago after visiting with my mom,” Amanda said. “She had cancer and wanted to see the beach one last time. So I brought her here, and when she died a few months later, I needed to get out of my hometown. So I moved here. I realized I could just wake up and be at the beach everyday and that could be my life. Best decision I ever made.”
“Wow,” Willa said softly, sipping her drink. “I’m so sorry about your mom.”
“Thanks. It was pancreatic cancer. Basically a death sentence from the moment she was diagnosed. I miss her, but I know she’d be happy I moved here. I’ll never forget the look on her face when I brought her here. She’d been here before, of course. But the time before she died? It was like she was seeing it for the first time. Like she was trying to memorize every last inch of this place.”
“I supposed I’d want to see the beach one last time, too, if I were her.”
A beat of silence passed before Amanda cleared her throat.
“Well, enough about me. What’s your story?”
Willa released a half-hearted chuckle.
“Let’s see. I found out my boyfriend of two years had a wife and child, so I blocked him on everything and moved here immediately. I have yet to get a therapist even though my best friend keeps nagging me about it and I know I should.” Charlie had sent her three texts earlier that day checking in to see if she’d found a therapist yet. “So now I’m living in my dead grandparents’ house, eating fish for every goddamn meal, and I barely have a job. Oh, and to top it all off, I’m dealing with this weird sexual tension with my disgustingly hot neighbor.”
She sighed and polished off her drink.
Amanda gaped at her.
“Damn. I’d offer you a shot but I know you still have to drive home.”
“Good thing we’re going out tomorrow night,” Willa responded with a smirk.
“Yeah, sounds like a girl’s night is just what the doctor ordered,” Amanda said.
“You have no idea.”
Willa pulled out her wallet to pay but Amanda waved her off.