A/N: Glad to be updating again. Been rewriting like a crazy person! Hope you guys are enjoying Genstan's story! xx
I step out in the black bikini, finding Tristan ready by the foyer, on the phone. As I walk over to him, his eyes widen.
"I'll have to call you back."
I smile wide as he hangs up.
"Please tell me you have another portion of that somewhere in your bag."
I pout playfully as his eyes scan over my body slowly. "You don't like it?"
"I do- very much and so will every other guy on that beach."
I smirk, touching his back absentmindedly. "We need sunscreen."
"You're killing me."
"Who was that you were talking to?"
I see his body deflate slightly as I take out a pair of jean shorts. "Andre, actually."
I pull them up, gasping. "You told him? What did he say?"
"Well, no- at first. Then called back about five minutes later with questions. The usual."
I button the pants, shaking my head. "He'd be ridiculous to turn it down."
"... And he's not ridiculous."
That makes me look up. "He said yes?"
"Yes, he agreed. He's going to call you later."
I grin wide, rushing to him. I wrap my arms around him tightly, closing my eyes.
"Oh my God, thank you, Tristan. I've- I've always wanted more for him. It's so wonderful of you to do this for him."
His hand is soft on my hair. "Of course, baby."
I pull back, still smiling and he grabs the bag from the table.
"Are you ready to do this?"
I nod, breathing in deeply. "Yes, surprisingly I am."
"Okay. Let's go."
Basking in the strong, fiery sun, I lie flat on my stomach, resting my rather hot head against my arm. It amazes me how much warmer it is here than Chicago right now. My eyes dart over to Tristan, lying beside me on his back, arm extended above him as he reads. My lips turn up as I read along, realizing it's some science fiction novel.
Turning onto my side, I watch his eyes flicker over to me- or rather my bathing suit. I do know not much is being covered but I live for these moments. The look in his eyes say it all- he wants me. He wants me fiercely- maybe even right now but he can't do anything about it. Toying with him, I run my finger underneath the string holding my bottom together, trailing my finger along the skin slowly.
His eyes flicker from the area to my face and a wide smirk fills his rare, beautiful face. "You're bad."
"I know I am."
He's wearing dark sunglasses to conceal his battered eye and a hat to conceal his identity. He also insisted I wear one as well- bought them along with the sunscreen at the store so now we're able to sit amongst everyone else and hopefully go unnoticed.
As he turns back to his book, I chuckle. "I wonder what that guy looks like."
"What guy? The man from the bar?"
"Yeah, the guy you beat to a pulp."
"I did not beat him to a pulp," he chuckles, looking back over at me.
"Where did you learn to fight like that?"
He sets down his book next to him and rubs the small amount of stubble on his face. "I used to fight a lot in high school."
"Why? You weren't bullied, right?"
"No, I wasn't. It wasn't anything like that... I-I was just a pissed teenager whose mom had just died. I didn't cope with it well."
"So, in other words-"
"In other words, I was the bully- for a long time. I was hanging out with the wrong people. My father was furious with me- and he had a right to be. It wasn't until my senior year that I went- I went to therapy and sorted through everything... Sorted through the pain and loss I felt losing her."
"Wow, I-I never would have even thought of you as a fighter. You're so calm and sweet all the time."
"So, in other words, my therapist would have been proud?"
I smile wide, nodding. "Very... Well, except for yesterday."
"Ah, but that was because of you. Not me."
"How was it because of me?" I gasp, chuckling. "It's not like I beckoned him over!"
He turns onto his side, clutching my face. "Because you're mine. When someone disrespects you, they're disrespecting me- except it's a thousand times worse."
I smile as he presses his mouth to mine softly. "I'd fight for you too."
"There's always a fight- obstacles in relationships."
"And we've had plenty," I murmur amusingly.
"It shows that we can get through anything- together- as long as we believe in this."
I run my hand over his warm chest, up to cup his neck. "I do."
"... Then let whatever come. Whether it's good or bad, we'll be with each other."
I nod, touched by our intimate conversation under the sun. He stares at me for a moment then looks out to the water.
"And on that note, I think this would be a good time for us to face our fears."
I look down, knowing exactly what he means. "... Alright."
I watch as he stands up, pulling down his black bottoms before reaching out for my hand. I take it nervously and stand, unsure of what to do. I resort in clutching him as we walk towards the ocean. The vast blue stretches out over the gulf, looking magnificent and terrifying at the same time.
As our ankles submerge into the clear water, I look up at him for reassurance. He smiles softly, pushing forward and as the people around us skim board and play Frisbee, we walk, facing our worst fear- Mother Nature.
Waist deep, we stop together and I don't look up. I feel the waves hitting my body as they crescent, headed for shore and I find myself struggling for breath. This is difficult. It's difficult to push the memories away.
The ocean is such a beautiful, terrifying thing. It can never be understood completely.
I finally manage after a moment to look up but I find Tristan looking calm and relaxed. He's staring out but feeling my gaze, he smiles, facing me. We bend together and when he pulls me close as we submerge our bodies into it, I feel safe.
Wrapping my legs around his torso, I rest my head against his shoulder, breathing heavily. As I feel the rapid beating of his heart under my cheek, I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one panicking. His arms come around my back and we simply sit there, only the sound of motorboats and waves to be heard.
"We did it," I utter, clutching him tighter.
"Yes, we did."
I watch the currents silently as we rock gently. Thinking, I rest my chin against his shoulder. "Do- do you think the memories of it will ever fade?"
He's quiet for a moment before he answers. "No."
I bite my lip, nodding.
"But I think we're getting along just fine."
I chuckle, shaking my head fondly. "Yeah, I think so too."
YOU ARE READING
What do you do when disaster strikes? You survive. On the night before her entire life changes, Genevieve Harding was walking along the shoreline with a man she'd only just met. Tristan Maddox. A man who grazed the pages of the magazines and newspa...