Judd slings his bag over his shoulder, then reaches for my hand.
As our skin touches, I feel that same pinch of attraction deep down in my belly. We walk together across campus, and I feel like a different version of myself. I’ve spent the majority of my three years at Fairhope Coastal University as Preston’s girlfriend. Not once have I been on a date with a new guy or even so much as touched another guy besides Preston.
It feels foreign and wonderful and new all at the same time.
When I sprinted toward that door yesterday, I never could have imagined it would have brought me to this moment. It’s amazing how fast someone can enter your life and start to change everything.
Amazing and terrifying all at once.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask.
I look awful in this shirt. I can’t believe he didn’t want me to go home and change. From now on, I vow to always keep a fresh change of clothes in the bottom of my bag.
“I thought maybe we’d walk along the beach for a while,” he says. “It’s a really nice night out if you’re not too cold.”
I have my leather jacket on over my work clothes and other than cold cheeks, I feel good. I forgot to bring my gloves, but he’s doing a good job keeping one of my hands warm. I have the other shoved deep in my pocket.
“I think I’m fine for a little while,” I say. “But I am pretty hungry.”
“I’ve got that covered,” he says.
“Okay,” I say, assuming he’s going to take me to one of the many bars or restaurants near the pier.
He shocks me when he walks up to the hot dog cart on the corner at the end of the boardwalk.
“You can’t be serious?”
“What? You don’t like hotdogs? You asked for something dark and casual.” He elbows me and when I look up, his eyes are dancing in the dim light.
“I like hotdogs just fine, but I never had a guy take me out for hotdogs on a first date,” I say.
“Trust me, these are the finest dogs in town,” he says. He lifts his head in a nod toward the guy standing behind the cart. “Hey Alex, what’s up?”
The man nods back and reaches his hand out to Judd. They give each other a sort of slap, high-five, hand-shake combo. “What’s up, my man? Who’s this gorgeous lady?”
“This is Bailey,” he says. “Bailey, this is Alex.”
I take my hand out of Judd’s so I can shake hands with the cart owner. “Nice to meet you,” I say.
He takes my hand in his and gives it a soft kiss. “My pleasure,” he says, his Spanish accent thick. “What can I get for you, my dear.”
“I’ll take a hot dog with mustard and relish,” I say. “I don’t think I’ve had a hotdog since I was a kid.”
“You’re kidding,” Judd says. “Hotdogs are a college staple.”
“Says you,” I tease. “And you’re a med-student? I thought you’d be eating nothing but health foods. No offense, Alex.”
“None taken,” Alex says with a laugh as he fixes my hotdog and hands it over to me.
He doesn’t ask for Judd’s order. He just pulls out two hotdogs and loads them up with chili, onions, ketchup, mustard and pickles.
Judd hands him a wad of ones and thanks him. We walk over to a wooden bench that faces out toward the shore and sit down.
“Do you know everyone around here?” I ask. He seems to relate to people easily. Something about that smile makes him very approachable and easy to like.
“Not everyone,” he says. “I just like my routines I guess.”
I take a bite of my hotdog and a dollop of mustard slides out the back and onto my jeans. I stare at it, not believing I just did that. I close my eyes and feel like giving up.
Judd laughs and pours water on his napkin, then cleans up the blob on my leg.
“I’ve never been so accident-prone in my life,” I say. “I swear to god.”
He smiles. “I believe you,” he says. “I think it’s kind of cute, though.”
“This,” I point toward my mismatched, stained outfit, “is not cute.”
In response, he just lets his eyes roam over my body. Nervous energy buzzes through me.
“I think you could wear just about anything and look good,” he says.
Warmth spreads up my cheeks. I continue eating my hotdog, but scoot just a tiny bit closer to him on the bench.
“So, hotdogs,” I say, laughing. “Is this a nightly ritual for you?”
“A couple times a week. Hotdogs might not be healthy, but they’re fast and cheap,” Judd says. “I’m on scholarship here and it’s awesome, but I don’t get much of a stipend and I don’t have time to get a job. I’ve got a special project going on right now and it’s taking up a lot of time.”
Disappointment shoots through me. If he doesn’t have enough time for a job, he’s definitely not going to have time to have a girlfriend. But then I stop myself. This is exactly what I always did with Preston. I was always getting way ahead of myself when it came to our future. I actually thought he was close to proposing to me, and instead he was ready to completely cast me aside.
Judd kisses me once and takes me on a hotdog date and suddenly I’m ready to be his girlfriend. I’m so lame.
“I never asked you where you’re from,” I say, trying to keep conversation moving so I can stop daydreaming.
“A small town west of here,” he says. “Cochran. Have you heard of it?”
“I think so,” I say. “Is that near Macon?”
“Not really,” he says. “Maybe forty-five minutes’ drive from there.”
“What brought you to Fairhope?” I ask. “The scholarship?”
“Yes,” he says. “I went to UGA for undergrad, graduated with honors and applied to a bunch of med schools all over the South. Fairhope offered me the best deal. Plus, it’s on the beach. That doesn’t hurt.”
I smile.
“What about you?” he asks. He’s already devoured one of the hotdogs and is starting on the second. “Where are you from?”
“You’re looking at it,” I say.
“You’re a townie?”
I scrunch my nose. “You make it sound so dirty,” I say. “And yes, Fairhope born and raised.”
“That makes sense,” he says, nodding. He makes a strange face.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He clears his throat. “It didn’t entirely escape my notice that you’ve been dating Preston Wright for a long time,” he says.
I draw in a tense breath. I guess the subject of Preston was bound to come up eventually, but I wasn’t expecting Judd to bring it up tonight. Still, there’s a part of me that’s surprised he’d noticed me enough before yesterday to know who I was dating.
“I’m pretty sure discussing ex-boyfriends on a first date is listed in the rule book on the don’t side,” I say.
He laughs. “I’m not really one for following the rules,” he says. “I’d rather just get it all out in the open, anyway. I want to get to know you, and it’s obvious he’s been a big part of your life. There’s no reason to dance around it.”
I’m surprised by his honesty and the fact that he doesn’t mind talking about something like this so early.
Still, my heartbreak is so fresh, I’m afraid he’ll hear it in my voice. And I don’t want to ruin tonight the way I did last night. It’s rare to get a second chance at any relationship. A third would be way too much to ask.
“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he says.
“It’s okay,” I say. I take a deep breath, not really sure what to say. “Preston and I got together senior year in high school. He’d been dating one of my best friends and she left to go to school up north.”
I don’t mention the fact that they were still together when I started sleeping with him behind Leigh Anne’s back. Being the other girl and betraying one of my friends like that is one of the most shameful things of my life. I definitely don’t want Judd to know that about me. Ever.
“Ouch,” he says. “That had to be complicated.”
“To say the least,” I say. “She’s recently come back to town and it’s been tough. The truth is, I don’t think he ever really got over her, you know? I was always second best, in a way.”
“That’s not possible,” Judd says. “You deserve more than that.”
Guilt twists my heart. “You don’t know that,” I say. “I’ve done some bad things. Things I’m not proud of.”
“We all have,” he says. “That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve to be someone’s first choice.”
I look over at him. The only light out here is a distant lamp and the light of a nearly full moon. If he knew the truth of how Preston and I got together, he wouldn’t be saying that.
“Preston never really told me he was still in love with her, but I think I always knew,” I say. “And when she got back, things changed between us.”
“Did they get back together or something?” he asks, his voice gentle.
“No, she fell for someone else, but Preston grew more and more distant over the summer. Then this fall his twin sister, Penny, took off for a few months with his best friend. When she came back, we all found out she was pregnant. She almost lost the baby and was on bedrest for a few weeks. Preston was really great to her. He barely left her side. We didn’t see each other much.”
I shrug, feeling the sting of fresh tears. I push them back, so tired of always being one step away from a complete breakdown. Talking about this with someone new is hard, but the fact that it’s a guy I’m interested in just makes it harder.
“He broke things off?”
I nod. “About three weeks ago,” I say. “I guess I saw it coming, but I think I was in denial for a while. When he finally said the words, it was devastating.”
Judd rests his hand on top of mine. “I’m sorry.”
I sniff, doing everything I can to hold back the tears. He’s already seen me cry twice. I can’t let this be a third. If there really is a first-date rule book, I’m certain crying about breaking up with your ex is at the very top of the ‘don’t’ page in bright red capital letters.
“I can’t believe I’m telling you all this,” I say.
“I didn’t mean to make you upset,” he says. “I just wanted you to know it’s okay to talk about it with me. In my experience, it’s better to get this kind of stuff out in the open right from the start. No secrets. No surprises.”
“Does that mean you’re going to tell me about your ex-girlfriends now?” I ask. “Because I’m really looking forward to that.”
He laughs. “Are you being sarcastic?”
“No,” I say in a big voice. “I love to hear about ex-girlfriends on a first date. Especially your sex life, don’t leave those details out.”
He squeezes my hand. “I’m afraid my story isn’t very interesting anyway,” he says, laughing. “I was a geek in high school and didn’t really date anyone until I got to college. I dated a few girls here and there, then I met Mandy. We dated for about a year. I fell head over heels in love with her, thought we were going to get married and have babies together.”
His confession takes my breath away. Guys don’t really admit this kind of stuff very often. “What happened?”
“Oh, we’re still together,” he says, casually. “She’s at home with our three kids.”
He says it so deadpan, I almost think he’s serious. Then, he breaks out in that sly smile of his and I smack him hard on the shoulder.
“You asshole,” I scream. “I thought you were serious.”
He holds his shoulder and leans away from me, laughing so hard it echoes across the darkness.
“I’m sorry, but the look on your face was priceless,” he says.
“I could kill you for that,” I say.
He stands and tosses his trash into the metal can beside the row of benches. “Things were getting way too serious,” he says. “I had to lighten the mood.”
“By making me think you were here with me while your wife sits at home with the babies?” I ask. “You have a twisted mind.”
“Seriously,” he says. “I’m sweet.”
“Sweet and apparently twisted.” I roll my eyes and pretend to be upset, but I can’t keep up the act for long. He’s too adorable.
“What really happened?” I ask.
He takes my hand again and we start walking down the boardwalk toward the pier.
“She dumped me,” he says. “For her ex-boyfriend. It devastated me at the time, but then I came here and slowly, day-by-day, it stopped hurting so much.”
I swallow, thinking about Preston and how I’ve spent the last few weeks barely able to get out of bed every morning.
Knowing he’s been there makes this better somehow.
We walk together for a while without saying anything. The waves crash against the shore just steps away from us, the high tide at its peak. A cold breeze whips past us, and I lean into him as we walk, letting his body be my shield.
“Do you want to walk up on the pier?” he asks.
“Sure,” I say.
He leads me up onto the wooden pier. It’s only about seven-thirty and the fishermen are taking advantage of the changing tides. They hang their sturdy poles over the side, many of them baiting hooks and casting out into the dark abyss beyond.
Lights like lamp-posts are situated every ten feet or so, illuminating the worn boards along the length of the pier.
We walk all the way down to the very end and find an empty spot along the railing to stand and stare out at the water. Because of the lights, we can just make out the water below. From here, it looks dark navy in color, peaks of white frothing up here and there and catching the light.
I place my feet on the first rail and lean over the edge to look straight down and a rush of fear goes through me. I welcome it, loving that feeling when my stomach seems to drop out from under me like I’m on a rollercoaster.
Judd puts his hands around my waist, as if holding onto me for dear life.
I laugh and step back down to his level. “Scared?”
“You were freaking me out,” he says. “Don’t lean so far over. What if you fell?”
I lean one arm all the way over the side and raise my eyebrows at him. “What about this? Is this scary?”
He pretends to hide his eyes. “I’m serious, don’t do that.”
I throw my arms around him. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Are you scared of heights or something?”
“No,” he says. “I’m just scared of really deep, possibly shark-infested waters. Especially when it’s dark outside. Haven’t you ever seen Jaws?”
I sigh. “There aren’t any great white sharks off the coast here,” I say.
“How do you know?” he asks. He leans cautiously over the side and looks down. “There could be anything under the curtain of that darkness.”
I put my hands on the wooden railing and lift my chin as the wind blows across my cheeks. My ears are freezing, so I lift my hands up to my bun and let my hair down.
Inside the center of the bun, my hair is still a little bit wet. I run my hands through it and shake my head, letting it fall heavy down my back.
The wind whips it across my face, and I close my eyes.
“This is one of my favorite feelings in the whole world,” I say, breathing in the crisp smell of salt water.
Judd steps closer, warmth radiating from his body. Something in the air between us shifts. He runs a hand through my hair, pushing it behind my ear and placing his palm against my face.
I open my eyes, my heart racing uncontrollably.
When I turn to face him, I recognize the desire in his eyes.
Only tonight, there’s no alcohol to fuel it. It’s pure and real and undeniably hot.
I lean into his hand, my flesh burning under his touch. His fingers twitch slightly, as if he wants to pull me closer.
I want to kiss him, but I’m scared. I don’t want to be rejected again. I don’t want to misunderstand. And I don’t want to fall too fast just because I’m so hungry for something to heal my broken heart.
But I’m helpless to stop it.
When he leans down, he stops short, waiting for me to make a decision. I lift my head ever so slightly and he closes the space between us, his fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of my neck. He takes my mouth more forcefully than he did last night, and my body lights up at the first meeting of our lips.
Our lips open and explore. Our tongues dance and our bodies press together.
My hands slip around his waist. I’m so aware of the fabric at the edge of his shirt, wanting nothing more than to slide my hand under and up. To feel the warm skin underneath and the hard muscles I know I’ll find along his back.
I want it so badly, I almost can’t control the desire.
He releases my lips and moves his kisses along the line of my chin. When he gets closer to my ear, he whispers, “You’re so beautiful.”
I immediately want to tell him he’s wrong. That he must not see me for some reason. But I hold it in, letting myself hear him. Not quite believing, but for the first time in a long time, wanting to believe.