Page 29 of Uncharted Desires

“Is that why you’re giving it all up? Do you think acting is going to make you feel better or be different? It won’t be a normal life, you know?”

“At least I won’t be on the road seven to eight months of the year.” He walked away from her into the water, letting the waves wash up onto his feet.

“You’re the one who chose to go on these world tours like every other year. Even the band kept saying you needed to slow down, but you never stopped. It was like you were running from something. What was it, West? What have you been running from?”

He turned, glaring at her. “All of it. My dad, the label, the fans! Fuck!” He kicked an incoming wave. His tone softened. “We were talking about you, not me. Why are you so stuck on this topic of me retiring from my music career?”

“Because you love it.” She didn’t know how to convey to him that she still couldn’t believe he would give it all up. She walked up to him, putting her hand on his chest, on his heart. “Right here, I know you do. For years, night after night, I’ve watched you play that guitar, watched you get lost in the moment. You leave your body, and your soul gets lost in the music. Your fingers move up and down of their own volition, they own the music, and you bend it to your will. I see it in your face. It’s your one true love.” She took a deep breath. “And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

His eyes softened, and before she knew it, his arms wrapped around her, his mouth inches away from hers. She had just revealed one of her deepest secrets, and rather than running for the other side of the island, he was holding her, their breaths mingling, with nothing but the sound of the ocean and the breeze in the trees surrounding them.

He bent his head, his mouth grazing the shell of her ear. “I never knew you were watching me.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know,” she said, her breath coming in short bursts.

His eyes darkened. “Clearly.”

For a moment she froze. His eyes held hers, a promise that he would close that distance if she allowed it. And other than self-preservation, which was crumbling quickly, she had no reason to push him away.

She forgot everything else—the music, the tours, the lonely years of watching West pour his soul into his guitar. All that mattered was the way he held her, the way her body crackled through every nerve ending. His head lowered and she could feel the heat of his warm lips as they gently touched hers, but just as quickly as she had felt him, they were gone. Before she could be upset, recognition set in.

“Oh my god, West that’s . . .”

“A motor,” he finished.

He released her and they ran down the rocky beach.

She had fallen behind slightly, and West grabbed her hand to help her keep up. Instantly, she thought about what they had just been about to do, and she couldn’t help thinking that if they were rescued she would never know how his lips would have felt on hers after all these years.

She was being ridiculous. Weston Monroe was not for her. He didn’t do actual relationships, didn’t do long-term, and for as much as he said he had wanted normal, she knew he would be bored. He didn’t know what normal was. Normal was a novelty to a man like him.

As they rounded the corner, her heart nearly stopped. Two speedboats were racing toward them. The foam of their wakes sparkled in the sunlight, and for a moment it seemed like salvation, but it soon appeared they were going around the island.

“They’re not coming this way,” he said, his disappointment evident.

He started to yell and jump up and down, waving his arms to get their attention. “Come on, over here.”

“Hey! Hey, over here!” she joined in.

For a while, they both waited desperately for the boats to spot them. Just as they were about to give up hope, the boats changed direction and were moving straight toward them.

West swept her up into his arms and spun her around. She could feel his heart pounding against hers as he shouted, “We’re saved!”

She mustered up her most excited face. “Yay,” she squealed as enthusiastically as she could. Deep within her she realized that as much as she wanted to be rescued this would be the end for them.

“Kat! Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

“I’ll believe it when it happens.”

“Skeptical much?”

She shrugged, unwilling to let him see the real reason for her mood. She was just starting to enjoy learning who West truly was, but once they got back to society it would be over. He would go back to being Weston Monroe, now apparently a movie star who dates other movie stars, and she would be unemployed, unmarried, unloved, un-everything. Boring old Kat.

As the boats drew ever closer, the hairs on the back of her neck started to stand on end as a feeling of dread filled her. A warning from an unknown source that something wasn’t quite right. Narrowing her eyes, she squinted at the boats; something about the drivers sent a chill down her spine.

“West.”

He was still waving his arms with excitement, trying to get their attention.