The water out in the deep was cool. Clouds gathered on the far horizon and the ocean swelled in response to the rising storm, flexing its power.
Luca already sported several bruises on his legs and hips, his sinuses and throat had been cleaned out by a couple gallons of seawater, and his arms and shoulders burned as he paddled out over the white-capped breakers for more. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been in the water; time was different here, measured in the endless roll of the ocean and the constant search for the perfect wave. Around him, the water started drawing back, a slow sucking in of breath, and Luca’s heart rate kicked up as he glanced over his shoulder at the rising wall of water.
Yes. Yes, this one.
There were other surfers around him, focused on the water, squinting against the glare. He spat out salt and started paddling hard, building up speed as the wave took him, and then he was moving, muscles coiling to jump up, feet planting on the waxy board, arms out, and he was flying, dropping down the face of the wave. Terrifying power surged beneath his feet and in that moment Luca knew his own insignificance. He was flotsam catching a ride, a speck against the awesome power of the ocean. Like riding a tiger, one mistake could kill him.
And then it was over, the wave softening, giving up some of its rage, and Luca was in danger of coming in too close to the swimmers, so he switched back and pitched himself off the board down the shoulder of the wave. He was breathing hard when he surfaced, arms and thighs burning, blood fired with adrenaline. Above him, the sun had reached its peak and he knew he should go in. But he wasn’t ready to return to land yet.
Problem was, without the distraction of the surf, he couldn’t stop thinking about Theo getting into his father’s car. Or about how, in a few days, he’d be driving away for good. The thought sat like a cold weight in his chest, and he’d only known Theo for a couple weeks. Imagine the damage he could do if Luca let himself get seriously involved—imagine how much it would hurt if he let himself fall in love.
As if you can stop yourself.
He paddled out for another wave, but he was distracted now, his focus lost, and he barely even got to his feet before he wiped out. He was tired, and as much as he didn’t want to go in, he also knew that surfing when you were under par was a great way to wind up in the hospital.
He lifted a hand to Ashna as he waded ashore. She’d come on duty since he’d been in the water and, wow, he must have been out there three hours at least. His limbs felt leaden as he trudged up from the foreshore onto the hot, dry sand, squinting and wishing for his sunglasses. He’d left them with his phone and towel at the foot of the lifeguard chair.
“Hey,” he said, propping up his board and ripping the leash off his ankle. “Enjoy the party last night?”
“I know you did.”
He reached for his towel, rubbing it over his hair. “Huh?”
“You and the skinny white dude you don’t want to bang, smooching away on the dance floor.”
“Shut up,” he said, reaching for his sunglasses. He was glad of their protection from both the sun’s glare and Ashna’s arch smile.
“What’s this? Luca Moretti defensive about a hookup?”
He unzipped his wetsuit and pulled the arms down, letting it hang from his waist as he dried his chest. “I’m not defensive.”
Ashna regarded him for a moment, then just said, “Right. Okay,” and turned her attention back to the beach. She twisted the top off her water bottle and took a long drink. It was a humid day, the air heavy and stormy even on the beach. “He’s been watching you surf, by the way.”
Luca stilled. “Who has?”
“Theo Wishart.” She waved a hand off to the left, toward the north end of the bay. “Been there for ages.”
Luca turned, lifting a hand to shade his eyes despite his sunglasses, and spotted Theo lying on the sand close to the dunes. He was half in the shade of a beach umbrella, but wouldn’t be for much longer. “He’s going to burn.”
“Wow,” Ashna said, and he glanced up to see her staring at him with genuine astonishment.
“What?”
“He’s going to burn?”
A self-conscious heat rose in his face. “Shut up.”
But Ashna was gleeful. “Oh, man. This is awesome. Are you—? Dude, are you in love?”
“No. Shut up.” Fuck. He pulled his t-shirt on, growling when it snagged on his sunglasses. Slipping his phone into his t-shirt pocket, ignoring the three missed calls from Don, Luca draped his towel around his neck and glanced back at Theo. He wasn’t moving, he looked like he was asleep, and if he stayed in the sun his tender skin would crisp badly.
“Hey, heads up.”
He looked over at Ashna and she tossed him a bottle of sunblock. “Go rub sunscreen all over your boy,” she said with a grin.
“He’s not my anything. He’ll be leaving in a couple days.”
“Right,” Ashna nodded, putting a thoughtful finger to her chin. “If only we had some kind of cheap and easy way of keeping in touch, but I guess you’ll never be able to speak to him again once he’s as far away as New York City.”
He didn’t dignify the sarcasm with a response, just stomped—there was no other word for it—across the sand toward Theo. He knew Ashna would be watching the water, but even so he felt as though her knowing eyes were on his back the whole way.
Your boy.
Theo wasn’t his boy. He couldn’t be. Yet the closer Luca got to him, the more the butterflies in his stomach swooped, and he found himself smiling at the sight of Theo lying on his back, one arm under his head and the other resting on his stomach. His face was turned to the side, the raven hair Luca had plowed his fingers through falling across his forehead, long dark lashes fanning beneath his eyes. Flushed with heat, Theo looked enough like he did in the throes of passion to make Luca’s heart trip and his cock give an interested twitch. He found himself caught between simple desire and something much more complex, something responding to the gentle curl of Theo’s fingers in sleep, the way his lips were slightly parted, the steady rise and fall of his chest. His vulnerability made Luca’s heart squeeze.
He slowed and stopped, letting his shadow fall over Theo’s body, shading him from the sun. And Theo stirred, blinking as he gazed up at Luca, confused for a moment and then smiling sleepily. “Hey.”
“You’re gonna burn,” Luca said.
“Oh. Shit.” Theo sat up, pulling his legs into the shade. “I fell asleep.”
“Yeah.” Luca hesitated, then decided to ignore the part of his brain remembering how he’d felt when Theo drove away that morning, the part of his brain warning him to back off, and dropped down into the sand next to him. “Long night, huh?” He offered the comment with a smile.
Theo answered with a shy but delighted grin. “A good night, though.”
“Yeah.” He looked down at his feet, burying his toes into the cooler sand beneath the surface. “Very good.”
They sat, lost in their own thoughts for a while, and then Theo sighed and said, “You should know that Don called my dad.”
Luca looked up, startled. “About what?”
He waved a hand between them. “This, I guess. He thinks I should be putting the hard sell on your mom instead of...hanging out with you.”
“Screw that.”
“He has a point,” Theo said. “It is why I’m here, Luca. To persuade Jude to sell.”
“I hadn’t forgotten.” Luca gazed back out at the water. He was hungry after his long surf, but had no desire to go in and face Jude or Don. He knew from the three missed calls that he was gonna get it in the neck for his outburst this morning.
“Neither had I, despite what my dad might think. And I still believe selling’s the right choice for Jude. Unless...”
When Luca glanced over, he saw Theo frowning at the sand. His knee, Luca noticed, was still in the sun and turning pink. He wanted to put his hand over the exposed skin, protect it. “Unless what?”
Theo pushed his fingers though his hair, dark curls damp in the heat, and kept his eyes on the sand. “Unless you wanted to take over yourself, turn the business around, turn it into something new like we were discussing last night? You could find some investors. You’d need some pretty heavy investment.”
Luca shook his head in automatic refusal, but the thought pricked at something hot behind his breastbone. It felt like want. The image Theo had painted last night, of taking back the Majestic, cleansing her of Don’s intolerance and making her an expression of himself, was as seductive as it was impossible. He didn’t have the business acumen needed for a project that size, let alone the money or the experience: how could he do it all by himself?
You could do it with someone else, someone like—
And that was such a fucking scary idea he shut it down before he could finish the thought. He cleared his throat. “I can’t see it working. Anyway, I’ll be heading west by the end of summer.”
A pause, then, “Will you?”
He stared at his buried feet, at the grains of sand clinging to the blond hairs on his legs. “Sure. I usually hang out on the west coast until the ski season starts, then pick up some work in Whistler or Banff over the winter.”
Theo huffed a laugh. “Of course you ski, too.”
“Snowboard,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on his buried toes. When he wiggled them, the sand on the surface cracked and fell away. “But not well enough to teach. I work in the hotels up there—they’re always looking for people and you normally get a mountain pass as part of the deal.”
“Right,” Theo said. “Well, then...”
Well, then, nothing left to say. It’s not like Luca was considering staying, or following Theo to New York... He swallowed, offering Theo the bottle of sunscreen. “You want to put this on, or get out of the sun?”
“I think I’ve had enough of the beach,” Theo said, but he wasn’t looking at Luca when he stood up, brushing sand off his shorts. “And I should go talk to Jude.”
“Don’t,” Luca said, squinting up at him.
Theo stilled. He reminded Luca unnervingly of prey watching a predator. “Don’t?”
“We only have three days left.” Luca made himself smile. “We could get lunch instead?”
Theo stared at him and then shook his head, turning to squint down the beach. His mouth pressed into the tight expression Luca remembered from when he’d first arrived. “I don’t think so.”
Luca rolled to his feet. His damp wetsuit was clogged with sand, dragging at his waist. “Why not?”
“Because I need to talk to Jude.”
He touched Theo’s arm. “C’mon...”
“No.” Theo shook his hand off and took a step back. “Are you trying to distract me?”
“What?”
“Is this—?” He waved his hand between them. “Is this just a way to keep me from doing my job?”
Astonished, Luca said, “Is that what you think?”
Theo stared at him, jaw working. “No. I don’t know. I can’t tell what you really—”
Luca’s phone rang, startling them both, and Luca wasn’t sorry for the interruption. “It’s Don,” he said, turning away to answer. “Hey, what—?”
And then the bottom dropped out of his world.
Amid the white noise of panic he heard words, disconnected, disjointed: Jude, heart attack, paramedic, hospital. Distant, as if through an ocean of water, he heard himself say “I’ll meet you there” and then someone touched his arm and he started back, stumbling in the sand.
“Luca?” It was Theo, suddenly standing very close and looking at him in concern. “Luca, what’s wrong?”
He stared at the phone in his hand. It was shaking. He was shaking. “Mom.” His voice felt rough as sand. “She’s had a heart attack. I have to go.”
“Oh my God, Luca...”
“I’m okay.” He wasn’t. “I have to—I have to get to the hospital.”
“Of course.” Theo’s grip on his arm tightened. “But sit down for a minute, you’re white as a sheet.”
Luca sat, his knees giving out halfway down. He wasn’t breathing right, he couldn’t catch his breath or think straight. He put his head down, trying to fill his lungs, but it was impossible to breathe around the fact that the last time he’d spoken to his mom they’d argued. He’d accused her of abandoning him. And now she might be gone for good and he’d never—“I have to talk to her.” His voice grated painfully in his throat. “I have to get to the hospital. Fuck. My van’s at the hotel.”
Theo gripped Luca’s shoulder hard. “You shouldn’t drive. You’re in shock. And you need to change.”
He looked down at the sand-clogged wetsuit. “Shit.”
“It’s okay,” Theo said. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’ll call a cab while we head up to the Surf Hut so you can change, and I’ll get it to meet us there. Okay?”
Luca closed his eyes as Theo’s fingers brushed through his hair. The contact anchored him and he clung to it. “Yeah, okay. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me.”
In a daze, Luca got to his feet and let Theo lead him along the beach to the Surf Hut. Don had only given him the scantest details: she’d collapsed, they were in the ambulance. Every terrible possibility went through Luca’s head as he paced along the beach, struggled out of his wetsuit at the Surf Hut and showered off the worst of the sand. Mutely, Theo handed him a towel and dry clothes, and he pulled them on as the cab arrived at the top of the beach.
When the driver started to get out, Theo waved him back inside and opened the passenger door himself. “We need to go to—Luca, which hospital?”
“St. Theresa’s,” he said, finding his voice, and gave the driver directions as he climbed into the back seat. He was vaguely aware of cheap plastic seats, the stink of cigarette smoke, but they were transitory sensations because all he could think about was Jude dying and believing he didn’t love her. Dropping his head into his hands, elbows braced on his knees, he closed his eyes and offered up a rusty prayer, starting to bargain with God for his mother’s life.
I’ll be a better son. I’ll try to like Don. I’ll be happy when she sells the Majestic...
Theo slid into the seat next to him. Luca could feel him sitting close as the car pulled away from the curb and, after a moment, Theo put a hand on Luca’s back, stroking gently. His touch was warm and reassuring, and Luca leaned into it, into Theo, because he needed his touch. Needed him. Fuck, but it was terrifying how much he needed him. Because Theo made him want things, dangerous things like comfort and love and...and home. As if Luca had forgotten it was all illusory. As if he didn’t know it could all be snatched away in a heartbeat—by a divorce, by a marriage, by a fucking phone call on the beach.
As if he’d forgotten that people leave, and that Theo was no different.
When they reached the hospital, Theo shoved money at the cab driver and they both ran into the Emergency Room. Inside, Luca found a small waiting area with a nurses’ station staffed by a guy in scrubs. He looked up as Luca approached.
“Judy Brennan,” Luca blurted, Theo crowding in beside him. “She was brought here and—”
“Yes.” The nurse glanced at his computer screen. “She’s still being assessed. Are you both family?”
“I’m her son,” Luca said. “Theo’s a friend.”
“Alright then,” the guy said. “It’s family only, I’m afraid. Your friend needs to stay here, but you can go through and be with your father while you wait.”
He’s not my father. The words backed up behind Luca’s teeth, but he didn’t spit them out. “Which way?”
The nurse indicated the corridor behind the desk. “The waiting room’s on the left, halfway down.”
“I’ll wait here.” Theo gripped his arm, hand lingering near his elbow. “Keep me posted, okay?”
More than anything, Luca wanted Theo with him, but there was no time to argue. “I will,” he promised, squeezing Theo’s hand briefly before letting go and starting to follow the signs to the waiting room.
It wasn’t hard to find. It looked like a glass box, windows all along one wall revealing an elderly woman, a man who looked like her son, and Don. He sat leaning forward with his face buried in his hands. Luca hesitated, but he had to go in. The door squeaked when it opened and everyone but Don looked up at him. He offered the other two a grim nod, then went to sit down. Not right next to Don, he left a seat between them. “Hey,” he said quietly.
Don didn’t move.
Luca shifted on the hard, plastic chair, stared down at the linoleum flooring, and hunched in on himself. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t want this to be real. “Any news?” he asked. “The guy out front said Mom’s still being assessed.”
After a long silence, Don turned to face him. He’d been crying, his eyes were puffy and his face blotchy. “No news,” he said roughly. “They’ve given her some... I can’t remember. Something to thin her blood.”
Luca nodded as if he knew the first thing about it. “Was she—?” He had to clear his throat. “Was she conscious when they brought her in?”
“Not really.” Don looked away, rubbing a hand over his balding head, and Luca felt a difficult collision of emotions. Seeing how much Don loved Jude, how distressed he was, provoked his pity, it made him feel guilty for how much he’d resented Don. But knowing what Don thought about him... He dropped his head into his hands, wishing himself away from the world.
Time passed. An eternity of tension and tedium, full of strangers walking up and down the corridor beyond: hospital staff in scrubs, visitors, and patients. A young couple laughed while they strolled past, as if they were living in a different world to Luca. As if the glass wall of the waiting room set its inhabitants apart, condemned them to a purgatory of waiting.
Waiting, waiting, waiting...
Eventually, Don lifted his head. “I feel like this is my fault,” he said.
Luca’s heart gave a low warning thrum. “What? Why?”
“We knew—Dr. Mira told Jude to get the tests done, but she...” He shook his head. “She’s a stubborn woman, your mother. But I should have insisted.”
“You knew?” Luca went hot and cold all at once. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Jude wanted us to handle it alone,” Don said thickly. “The doctor said the tests were only precautionary, and Jude thought they were too expensive. If I’d—”
“Mr. Brennan?” An African-American woman in blue scrubs and a surgical cap stood in the doorway.
Don jumped to his feet. “Yes?”
“I’m Dr. Anderson,” she said, looking between them with curiosity. “I’m a cardiologist and I’ve been looking after your wife.”
“How is she?” Luca said. The doctor canted her head and he added, “I’m her son.”
“Alright, then. Well, I’m pleased to tell you Judy’s doing well. The ECG showed that she has suffered a heart attack, but it’s what we call an NSTEMI—which means it’s a less serious type of heart attack. Jude shouldn’t need surgery. If you’d like to see her, you can, although perhaps one at a time. We don’t want too much excitement right now.”
Don didn’t look at Luca, his red puffy eyes accentuated by a flush on his otherwise pallid face. Luca didn’t want to argue about who went first, and, anyway, he needed some time to absorb what Don had told him. He sat down, legs weak with relief and distress. “You go,” he said, aiming the words at Don even though his gaze was fixed on the floor. “Tell her I’m here.”
Don cleared his throat, and after a moment Luca felt a hand on his shoulder, Don’s fingers squeezing. “I will. I’ll tell her you’re waiting to see her,” he said, and followed the doctor out.
Luca’s mind swam, the last couple of weeks—the last five years—playing out in front of him, every decision he’d made called into question. Why hadn’t Jude told him she was so sick? He’d have helped pay for the tests. He’d have done anything for her. Why hadn’t she known that? He shoved his hands into his hair, knotting them there. The silent presence of the room’s other occupants oppressed him and he wished they’d leave, wished he was alone.
No, not alone. He wished he was with Theo.
Luca wanted him with a sudden, visceral urgency he couldn’t ignore. Pushing himself to his feet, he slipped out of the waiting room and headed back to the entrance. The same guy sat behind the desk, but there was no sign of Theo. Luca’s breathing hitched in alarm and he dashed outside into the heat, squinting across the parking lot. But the cab was gone. Theo was gone. Of course he was gone. People always left and he was no—
“Luca?”
Heart hammering, he spun around. Theo stood in the shade of the building, lowering his phone from his ear, and Luca could only stare. “You’re still here.”
“Of course.” He took an uncertain step forward, slipping his phone into his pocket. “Is Jude...?”
“She’s okay.” Luca wiped at his suddenly leaky eyes, embarrassed by the shake in his voice. “They said she’s going to be okay.”
Theo relaxed, puffing out a breath. “Thank God.”
“I—” His voice cracked, emotions slipping free. He ached to be held, terrified by the swell of raw need. “Theo...” And then he was moving, and Theo was moving, and they crashed into each other’s arms in a fierce, rib-crushing embrace.
“Okay,” Theo whispered. “Okay, I’m here.”
Luca had never felt more grateful and terrified in his life.