What's for Breakfast?

Twenty-Six: If You Wanted Me

I grit my teeth, and I try to move past Derek. He quickly blocks my way, his long arms spread out. Bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight, Derek's striking features captivate me, and I'm acutely aware of our contrasting heights as he towers over me. My pulse races. It's been so long since we were this close.

"You remember you still owe me, right?"

I suck my teeth. "What about it?"

"Then you can pay me by staying. Stay, Sam. Come on. Please?"

"I believe I've paid my dues," I hiss. "Why are you really here anyway?"

Without a word, he undresses, and I stumble a step back. "What are you doing?"

"I said I'm going to join you, right?" he replies. "Oh wait, I've thought of something better. Wait here."

He puts his flip flops on. "Wait for me. Don't move."

"What? I won't—"

But Derek is already sprinting. "Just a sec!"

"Where are you going?!" I call out in confusion.

I have the chance to leave. I could've walked away that instant and let Derek do whatever the hell he wants to do. But like the stupid and obedient girl that I usually am when it comes to him, I stay.

I dig my fingers into my scalp, berating myself for my idiocy.

A few minutes later, Derek comes back with two wine glasses, a bottle of red wine, and a blanket.

He spreads the blanket on the sand.

"Where did you get those?"

"From the staff." He sinks into the blanket, stretches his legs, then looks up at me. "Come here."

I sigh, reluctantly sitting next to him, ensuring that the distance is big enough to prevent any physical contact. The memory of the night at the oval flashbacks in my mind, tugging my heartstrings.

"You have a thing for blankets," I comment.

He pours wine into one glass and passes it to me. I take a sip, my gaze fixed on the expanse of the sea.

"We're still not done, Derek. I'm still angry."

"I'd rather we aren't done." Then he says out of nowhere, "I know this is off-topic, but you look good."

I blush and punch him lightly on the shoulder. It sends chills down my spine. Oops, physical contact. Wrong move!

"Why do you always throw compliments like that?"

"What? It's true," he says, eyebrows furrowed. "Is it inappropriate?"

"Well... No," I reply. "I'm... Not used to it."

"What? Not used to people telling you you're pretty?"

I turn away. "Shut up. It's... It's nothing you haven't seen."

"Hard to say. I haven't seen yours."

My breathing rushes. "Derek, I swear to God—"

He chuckles, amused at himself. "I'm kidding, alright?"

"You're such a womanizer."

"That's untrue," he says, sipping his wine. "If you haven't noticed, I've stopped sleeping around ever since I stayed with you."

"What about Sara?"

"What about her?" he counters.

I squint my eyes at him. "You've been flirting with her since you arrived."