I wake up and am hit with an intense feeling.
I might not be sure about much at the moment. But I know this.
I love Jason.
I turn my head slowly so I don’t wake him. Dawn light streams in through the window that curves around the hotel room. It’s really pretty. I glance down. Jason’s beside me, fast asleep. He’s curled and facing away from me, his lower half covered by a white sheet.
Yep.
I love him.
Yesterday was perfect. After we hooked up, we showered and then just spent the day being tourists. We checked out the Hollywood Walk of Fame, the TCL Chinese Theatre, then took an Uber to Mulholland Drive. We ended the day with room service, and then we hung out in the hotel hot tub until the security guard kicked us out.
It was perfect.
The sight of him, in bed next to me, makes me feel overwhelmed.
I love him. A Donovan.
And I could lose him.
If I’m not honest with him, I will lose him. I need to trust him. He’s not going to betray me. There’s no way.
It’s settled.
When he wakes up, I’m going to tell him everything about me and my family.
I’m going to give him the power to destroy me.
I guess that’s what love is. That’s how it always seems in movies. If it’s not world-shattering, something is wrong.
He shifts. I think he might be awake, just dozing. I need to tell him. I need to do it right now, before I chicken out.
But then I bail.
What if I’m making a huge mistake?
He opens his eyes. He truly is so handsome. He grabs my arm, and pulls me across, so I’m spooning him.
Oh.
This is nice.
Maybe I don’t need to do anything so drastic just yet. I close my eyes, and let myself relax.
By the time I wake up, the sun is out, and Jason is no longer beside me. I sit up. He’s brushing his teeth. He’s gotten dressed, in a gray T-shirt and swimming trunks. His hair’s already perfectly done.
“Morning,” he says.
“Hey.”
He spits. “Sleep well?”
I stretch. “So well. You?”
“Same. Best in ages.”
I get that. Even though I know telling Jason about my family is a big decision, I am feeling very relaxed right now. More relaxed than I have in recent memory, actually. I think it might have something to do with finally getting out of the city.
“So,” I say. “What did you want to do today?”
“I was thinking we could go to the beach? As long as we get to the airport by five, we’ll be fine.”
“Cool.”
That’s where I’ll do it.
The beach.
He walks over to me and falls down onto the bed. He kisses me. He tastes like toothpaste.
I pull back.
“What?” he asks.
“I think I’ve decided.”
He props himself up. “Decided what?”
“I think I want to tell you about my family. You’re right, this will never be real until I tell you everything.”
“You sure? You don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
“I’m sure.”
His smile is dazzling. “Cool.”
“Don’t think you’re getting off the hook, though. You’ll have to tell me stuff, too.”
“Of course.”
“So should I just, like, tell you now?”
He chews his lip. “Why don’t you wait awhile? This is clearly a big deal for you, and the last thing I want is for you to regret it. So why don’t you think about it for a few hours, and then, if you’re still sure, you can tell me.”
“Okay,” I say. “Sounds like a plan.”
I’m sure.
I totally respect that Jason wants to give me some time, to be completely and utterly sure about this.
I don’t need it, though.
I’m sure.
I’m going to tell him about my family. I’ve been thinking about it the whole journey to the beach, and even though I’ve analyzed the crap out of it, I’m still totally confident this is the right move. Telling him everything there is to know about me will make this even better than it already is.
He asked me to really think this through, so I’m going to. I’m going to try to have a good time and not obsess over it. But I think this is one of those things I won’t be able to stop thinking about until I’ve gotten it off my chest.
We both step out of the Uber.
The beach stretches out in front of us. It’s crowded. Up ahead, there’s a pink ice cream truck by a path to the beach. It looks a little hipster-y.
“Want one?” he asks.
“Yeah, for sure. Do you?”
He nods, so we join the line.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt this good.
We reach the front of the line.
“Can I get a sundae, and then whatever this one wants?” He puts his hand on my shoulder.
“Can I get a choc-dipped cone?”
“You sure can,” says the server. She’s dressed in a pink-and-white-striped shirt. “You two are the cutest, by the way.”
“Thanks.”
“He’s the cute one,” says Jason.
I blush.
She hands us our ice creams, and Jason pays.
Then we start walking toward the beach. We both take off our flip-flops and walk. The sand is so warm. A pair of girls in bikini tops and denim shorts totally check Jason out as they pass us. One even lowers her sunglasses to ogle. It’s right out of a CW show.
He stomps onward, oblivious.
He glances my way.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“Just that the beach looks really nice today.”
He tousles my hair with his free hand.
I smile.
We find an empty spot, and he tosses his towel down hard onto the ground. We sit down, and eat our ice cream.
“Now?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Not yet. You really need to be sure.”
“I am!”
“Just give it a little longer, okay?”
“Fine.”
We finish our ice cream. My hands are all sticky now.
“Want to go for a swim?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
We both stand. Then he grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls it off. I do the same with my shirt and throw it down onto his. He stretches, then adjusts his trunks, pulling them up a little higher.
I’m not over seeing him like this. Not even close.
I grab the sunscreen from my bag and start slathering it onto my chest. I feel like the palest person on this beach, so this will save my life. Without it I’d be beet red in half an hour. I put some on in the hotel room, but I really want to be sure I’m covered. The last thing I need right now is a sunburn.
He turns to me. “Want some help with that?”
“I’ve got it.”
He frowns. “Oh.”
“Unless you want to help?”
He nods and grins. “Turn around.”
I hand him the sunscreen. He puts it onto my back. I close my eyes for a second as he rubs. The skin-to-skin contact, it’s blissful. Once he’s done, he turns around and I put sunscreen on his back.
He’s so broad, and I love how he feels with the sunscreen on him.
He’s so slick.
“Am I good?” he asks.
“Yep. All safe.”
“Awesome.” He takes a step away. “Race you to the water?”
“You’re on.”
We both tear off, sprinting toward the ocean.
Jason and I are sitting on a bench in front of the path to the beach. There isn’t a cloud in sight.
It’s been another perfect day.
I don’t want to leave.
I don’t want to go back to Florida.
I’d stay here forever if I could.
We’re listening to his playlist, with one earbud each, and he has his arm around me. His songs are all fast-paced and electronic. So, not my usual thing, but I’m into it, because he likes it.
He smells like salt, and he’s so warm. I can feel it even through his shirt. His stare is fixed on the horizon. This close, I can see his jawline is just starting to show signs of honey-brown stubble. It’s lighter than the hair on his head. I’m jealous, because it looks even, and my facial hair is still so patchy.
He rubs my arm. I nestle against him.
It’s time.
Or, it’s close enough for me. The song we were listening to ends.
I notice he’s shaking.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“I think I’m going to be sick.”
I move a little away from him. “Like, actually, or…”
He leans forward, and starts breathing deeply. He’s hunched over, and his shoulders are raised.
I don’t know what to do.
He turns to face me. He’s gone so pale. “Listen, Matt.”
“Yeah?”
“I know you said you were going to talk about your family.”
Oh fuck.
Something is clearly very wrong.
“Yeah?”
“You can’t. Look at me, you can’t tell me anything about them.”
His eyes are wide.
“What? Why?”
He looks like he’s in pain.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
He pulls his shirt down a little.
In the middle of his chest, nearly invisible, is something that looks like a plastic circle. He obviously wasn’t wearing it before; I would’ve noticed it. I think back, and he left for a little while before to go to the public bathroom. He took his backpack. He must’ve put it on then, before we came here.
Oh no.
I think I know what it is.
And why he wouldn’t let me tell him about my family until we got here.
“What’s that?” I ask. I need to know for sure.
There’s horror in my voice.
He peels it off his skin, wincing as he does. It looked like it was stuck tight. There’s now a red circle on his chest where it had been.
“It’s a wire,” he says. “It’s new tech.”
He tries scrunching it up in his hands, but that doesn’t work, it’s too flexible. So he pinches it, and rips it in half. Inside, I can see tiny wires, glinting in the sunlight.
I don’t know what to say.
“So I was right?” I ask. “You are still trying to learn my family secrets.”
“Yeah, I am. But it’s not what you think.”
I feel like I could be sick.
“I’m not who you think I am,” he says.
I scoff. “You’re right about that.”
I’m only just managing to keep it together. I always had this fear, and it’s because it was founded. Jason was pretending. He was still trying to learn the secrets about my family so he could tell his. The scariest part is I was about to tell him everything. I was seconds away from doing it.
But he stopped me.
Why?
“Matt, my last name … it isn’t Donovan.”
“What?”
“It was just a cover. If we got caught, we were told to tell you we’re Donovans, to throw you off the scent. My mom thought your hatred of them would blind you to the truth.”
“What truth?”
“About who we are. About who I really work for.”
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He swipes through and then turns it to show it to me.
It’s a photo of Jason standing with a female cop. She’s wearing the full uniform. The badge gleams against her chest. I look closer, and see the similarities. They have the same face shape, the same hair color, and even the same nose.
This can’t be happening.
“I’m not a Donovan,” he says. “My last name is Kendricks.”
I look at the woman again.
His mom.
Jason isn’t who he said he is.
He’s the son of a cop.