Life Unwritten by T. I. Lowe

Author:T. I. Lowe [Lowe, T. I.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-12-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

Soon. The internet defines this word as meaning within a short period of time. Two days is too long to be considered soon to me. This fact has left me cranky and with my first bout with writer’s block. Beck said he’d see me soon. Even sealed his promise with a sweet kiss. The sucker lied. Now an inner irritation has joined in with the itchy spots on my skin. I rub at a lingering bite on my forearm as I stare absently at the ocean sparkling before me. The ebb and flow of the waves keep my attention until heavy feet hit the deck.

I look up but quickly go back to studying the ocean. “What do you want?”

“Nice to see you, too.” Beck chuckles. He takes the lounge chair beside mine and yanks mine closer. “Hold my hand, Miss Grouch.”

“I will soon.” I cross my arms and refuse his request.

“Did you miss me?” Beck asks with too much laughter in his tone.

“No. Truthfully, I think you’re unhealthy for me and should just leave me alone.”

“How’s that?”

I sit up and glare over at him. “I’m a writer. I need to write. You’ve bossed your way into my life and have wreaked havoc on my routine. This kissing me and then going MIA for days at the time… I ain’t got time for that.”

“I had this two-day body boot camp to instruct with a few other guys. Sorry my routine doesn’t revolve around yours, Harp.”

“Oh, now I’m harping on you again?” I plop back down in the chair and close my eyes.

“I’m flattered you miss me.”

Before I can open my eyes and glare, Beck has wedged himself in the chair with me. I push against his chest. “Get off. You’re blocking my sun.” Dang. He smells so good that my arms wrap around his neck to draw him nearer. Ugh. Here goes the tug-of-war with myself again.

He skims his nose along mine. “I missed you, too. Let’s work on a new scene today.”

“I need to be writing some scenes. Alone.”

Beck places a feather-soft kiss on my pouty bottom lip. “Are you on a deadline?”

“No, but—”

He deepens the kiss, effectively cutting off any excuse I could have come up with. “Hmm… I love kissing you.” His confession has my toes curling. “Go somewhere with me, please,” he says against my lips and then goes back to kissing my refusal away.

When he finally draws back enough to eye me, I’m breathless and want nothing more than to go wherever he leads—to the end of the earth, to the coffee shop, to the garbage dump... “Where?”

“You’ll see.” Beck pushes the dark locks back from his forehead and stands. He offers his hand and helps me up, too.

“Cut-off jeans and this T-shirt okay?”

Beck motions to his pair of jeans and V-neck tee. I think he favors that style due to his thick neck. The man is all muscle. “We’re good. Let’s go.”

After we load up and he begins pulling out of my driveway, I try again.

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