Page 46 of Love on Deck
“You can take a vacation from constant risk analysis, you know.”
She finished sunscreening the visible parts of her skin and shot me a look over her shoulder. “But I’m happier with it. Safer. More settled and less anxious.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Fine. Just trying to help you lighten up.”
Well, that had certainly been the wrong thing to say. Lauren’s eyes narrowed, her mouth pinching. It had entirely the opposite effect of what I’d been trying to do, instead making her more tense. She grabbed her small bag, slid her feet into her sandals, and went for the door without another word.
I hurried to follow her, nabbing my room key, phone, and shoes, and hustling down the hallway to catch up to her. “I didn’t mean it—”
“Yes, you did,” she snapped.
“Whoa.”
She didn’t slow down.
I’d hit a nerve, and it bit at me. “I’m sorry, Lauren. I’m not trying to be rude—”
She rounded on me fast, her eyes sparking, her finger jabbing into my chest. “Just because I like to be prepared, it doesn’t mean I don’t know how to enjoy myself. You can make smart choices and protect yourself against terrible pain and still be fun.”
I leaned forward, forcing her finger to press into my chest harder. “Yeah, you can. But you can also keep yourself from relaxing when you worry too much about things.” Her admission last night about no one ever having tucked her in—that had wrecked me. It had taken every ounce of self-control I possessed not to push aside the stupid pillow wall and pull her into my arms, to provide her comfort. No one needed to grow up and take on such responsibility as early as she had.
Her life had been hijacked from a young age, and I kind of wondered if she was never going to heal from that if no one showed her how.
Lauren shook her head, dropping her hand.
I scooped it up, tugging her closer until her face was only a few inches from mine, our chests so close they almost touched, but not quite. “Let me show you how to let go.”
Her hazel eyes locked on mine. “That sounds like an icky pick-up line.”
“I don’t have to pick you up. You’re already my girlfriend.”
“But I’m not,” she said. “Not really. I’m here for Amelia. She’s my focus for the week.”
So, basically, she wouldn’t let anything distract her. Not feelings or the chemistry that was buzzing between us or the possibility that I just might know what I was talking about.
Our chests were both rising and falling in quick tandem. My blood pumped hard, roaring in my ears. I had the sudden overwhelming desire to pull her another three inches closer and crash my lips against hers. I imagined it, the way she would feel against me, the satisfaction it would provide. I stared into her glinting hazel eyes with intense focus. Her attention dropped to my lips, building my longing until it was a roaring river crashing against a dam wall.
But I couldn’t let it break. We had an agreement that benefited me: keeping Sydney at a distance. Kissing Lauren would only be taking advantage of the position I’d put her in and muddying the waters, right?
I’m here for Amelia. She wasn’t here for me.
After learning about her family last night in more detail and her relationship with Amelia, it occurred to me that this wedding cruise had to be super hard on both Foley women. One of them was getting married and they had no one else. No parents, not the grandmother who raised them, no extended family—nothing.
Kissing Lauren would only make me the unprincipled player she thought I was, preying on her in a time of vulnerability. But seeing her eyes on my lips, I felt like she wanted this as much as I did.
Which meant I had to back off.
I dropped her hand, taking a step back. “We’re going to be late.”
Lauren’s hazel eyes closed briefly before she turned to keep walking down the hallway, and I fell in step beside her. “No more talking,” she said. “We are in a relationship in front of the others, but only for the sake of the MediCorp conference—”
“And keeping Sydney away.”
“—and nothing else. No unnecessary touching. No deep conversations.” She wouldn’t look at me as she talked. “We are not friends, Jack.”
That stung, but I didn’t argue.
I also didn’t take her hand when we reached the dock and found our friends waiting. I didn’t slide my arm around her waist when we sat in the mid-sized boat with other tourists to take us out snorkeling in the crystal teal water. I didn’t pull her close to my side to make room for the young family who climbed on after us, or respond when Sydney asked for help putting her sunscreen on.