Jacquie D’Alessandro - Jinxed!

“Right. Those damned transitions.”

As the words hung there, the wind seemed to cuff around them, avoiding them as much as she wanted to.

But Wes wasn’t letting it go. “It’s more comfortable to be safe, to stay with what you know. Comfortable but not fulfilling.”

She looked out to the sea: the moon-glowed water, the endless spaces of unknown territory. They were officially talking about more than just her shop now; he was hinting at how her fear extended from business to personal, and he sounded as if he cared about transitions way more than she’d ever guessed he could.

But why would he give a damn about being a transitional link in her life? Wes Ryan, the player, wouldn’t be that invested in her.

Or…would he?

When she glanced up at him, he was watching her so intensely that her breath caught in her lungs, chopped off. All she could hear was the thud of her heartbeat, its rhythm escalating.

“You just don’t want to risk making the wrong choice,” he said, “right?”

The mere mention of it made her ill because she’d come so close to making the wrong choice with William. It’d take time to summon the will to try again.

But Wes wasn’t done. “In fact, I’d go so far as to say that you’re afraid to turn anything in your life into something bigger.”

He couldn’t be serious. He couldn’t be offering himself up for something more than a light affair.

It struck her: maybe Madame Karma’s prediction hadn’t been so ridiculous after all.

Oh, God. Freaking out now…

“Wes.” She straightened up, no longer so relaxed. “There’re some things in life that are best left to the status quo. Maybe sometimes things are better left alone.”

He slid a look at her-a look so laced with buried meaning that she straightened, heart beating in her ears.

“I’ve always been good at making people think they’ve gotten the best part of the deal, Erin. That’s how I got through school-with the right excuses to my teachers, with smiles and promises. And that’s how I’ve made my way in business and life, especially with women. I’ve enjoyed my share of them, but I’ve never been very honest. Not with them, not with myself.”

“Wes-”

“Wait. Just hold on, okay?” He took in a breath, then huffed it out. “I’ve attempted to get serious with a partner two times. With the first, she turned out to be a Clippers fan,” he said, his expression wry, “so that didn’t work because when they played the Lakers-hell, the competitive spirit between us got ugly.”

He assessed Erin with a gaze, searching for something she wasn’t giving him. Couldn’t give him.

Then, obviously not getting what he wanted, he continued. “After that supremely deep relationship, I waited, then tried again with a woman who was great at first, but ended up being prone to asking why I needed to have my space every so often. That lasted eight days, and it was eight days too long. But at least I tried, I told myself. At least I tried. Then I saw you at that party.”

Below them, the ocean splashed and broke apart against the ship. That was the only sound right now, because she wasn’t about to reveal anything about her own fractured past. It’d only make her angry again, whipping up all the ugliness she’d been running from.

“So that’s my story,” Wes said. “I’ve been wondering about yours, Erin.”

“Why?” Defensive. Already, the negativity was gathering. She wasn’t sure being with another person brought out the best in her.

But Wes wasn’t giving up. He was holding on to her hand, clearly determined not to let her go. The realization spurred her to fear, cornered her, forced her to do something rash and effective.

Distance, her buried ex-girlfriend mentality told her. Create some distance, because he’s getting too close.

“You really want to know about my little history?” she asked, voice on edge.

“Yeah.” Wes looked hopeful and, somewhere inside, there was a distant sense of her heart softening.

Can’t happen. You can’t let that happen.

“All right, here’s my rather pathetic résumé.” She’d gone rigid, as cold as self-preservation needed to be. “High school? Dated normally, if not frequently. College? Met the supposed man of my dreams and lost my virginity to him, thinking he’d be my life. After college? Engaged to the guy. For six years. And when I finally realized he didn’t actually want to get married, I did the bravest thing I could and broke it off. I realized how, over the years, I’d stopped loving him somewhere along the way. Actually, my family ended up more devastated than I was, and that hurt me more than any breakup. I didn’t like what I’d brought down on them.” She cleared her throat of the emotional debris. “And now? Dating normally again, making up for all the time I wasted.”

It was the first time she’d gone into such detail with him, and he looked as if she’d pressed a just-extinguished match to his skin. It didn’t burn so much as leave an ash mark that shocked more than hurt.

Gradually, he regained composure, back to the confident player he presented to the world. Problem was, Erin knew there was more to him than that.

“You’ve already found ‘the one,’” Madame Karma had said.

No. God, no, she wasn’t ready, didn’t want to know that he could be affected by her and her by him.

“Why don’t you just come out with it?” he finally said. “Tell me that I’m the type of guy who isn’t good for anything more than a few weeks of…fun.”

When she didn’t answer, his shoulders lost their arrogant line. His gaze lost some of its confident shimmer, too.

The change bent her heart into a shape that didn’t belong in her chest; the warp of it made clear to her what she really wanted to feel for Wes-if she could just allow herself to do it.

But she wouldn’t. It’d destroy her right now. So she brought back the angry girl who’d been left in the dust by a man who never did value her.

Her body language shouted defensiveness, and Wes clearly didn’t have any trouble comprehending. Without a word, he left Erin standing there, the breeze whispering something that sounded like “curse” in her ears.

She tried to tell herself it didn’t matter, that this jinx was actually a good thing.

Because, maybe, just maybe, this curse was fate’s way of protecting her from making yet another huge mistake.

WES DIDN’T KNOW HOW MANY hours he stayed away from the cabin. Two? Three? It didn’t matter.

All he knew was that every time he found himself stopping to take stock of what’d just happened with Erin, realization crystallized his brain.

The ocean, he kept thinking, staring out at the black depths. It was his life. And he was this damned ship, floating and drifting even when it was anchored.

Erin might as well have told him that he was just an object to her-a plaything that existed only to amuse. And, truth be told, the old Wes would’ve been more than happy to oblige. But, just this once, he’d allowed himself to think he could be meaningful, and it’d backfired in his face.

So why try with her again? Why not just go back to what he was comfortable with? Life had been good to him this far, so why was he pining for something else that could turn out to hurt him much more in the long run?

Forget Erin, he told himself, abandoning his most recent spot by the deck railing. Forget your damned crusade to matter to her.

He finally went inside, making his way to the ninth-deck casino. Going back to the cabin would only be an exercise in futility, and who the hell needed more “curses,” character assassination and cock-blocking?