Chapter Twenty-One

 

Once I remembered what Oliver liked about me, I set a new strategy.

The next night when he came in, I was in the back lounge with a blanket, a glass of wine, and a book. I had washed my face clean; my hair was in a sloppy bun, and I wore a T-shirt and leggings.

He stopped in his tracks and stared at me for a moment. His face softened before he caught himself. He doubled down on his mean face, but he’d already tipped his hand. I was on the right track.

He stayed in his bunk with the curtains closed tightly, but it was fine. I could handle baby steps as long as they were in the right direction. On Wednesday, he did a double-take before Mean Face slammed down.

On Thursday, he actually sat on the couch next to me while I stared unseeingly at a book. His laptop was open, and he wasn’t speaking to me, but he was there. He was skittish, but since I didn’t make any sudden movements, he stayed there until I went to bed.

A few hours later, I was startled awake when the bus stopped. I peeked out the window, and I was confronted with a gorgeous, empty beach. Waves were crashing on the sand. It could have been a movie set.

“Where are we?” I whispered to Tucker.

“Rest stop,” she muttered before climbing into her bunk. She was a woman of few words. I could respect that.

It certainly didn’t look like any rest stop I’d ever seen, but if there was time, there was something I wanted to do. I dressed quickly and rushed outside.

I ran down the sand until I was close to the water, then sat to watch the way the moonlight’s reflection swelled and scattered with every breaking wave. It was mesmerizing.

I felt more than heard the footsteps behind me: Oliver. Being on a moonlit beach with him would have been the most romantic thing in the world if things weren’t painful and awkward between us.

He sat in the sand next to me.

“Did you ask Tucker to stop for me?” He was the only one who would have.

I’d told him about how it was when Toby was first diagnosed. We had a dream family vacation planned… Disney World and a week in an oceanfront condo. My parents started saving for it before Toby was born, but then he got sick, mom left, and everything in my family changed forever.

“Yes.”

“Even though you’re angry?”

His voice was chilly. “I’m not angry. Things have changed, that’s all.”

If it was true, it would have been even worse, but I didn’t believe him.

He gave an exaggerated gesture toward the waves. “Don’t you want to go in the water?”

I shook my head. “I’ll just enjoy the view.”

His voice had a new edge to it when he spoke again. “You’ve never been in the ocean, Willa. Don’t you want to?”

I shrugged.

“You said you wanted to do it. Here you are. Now—what? Nothing? You’re going to change your mind for no reason? Turn your back on what you said you wanted?”

“It’s not for no reason,” I said, stung. “I’m scared, but I’m here. I’m just not going all the way in.”

“Being scared is a stupid excuse. Everybody’s scared.”

We weren’t talking about the water anymore. “I’m sorry, Oliver. I know I hurt you by leaving, and I should have called or messaged you while I was gone.” I crossed my legs and scooped small handfuls of sand, letting it run between my fingers as I talked. “I told myself that by making a clean break, I was respecting the relationship you have with Jimmy. Like, refusing to put you in the middle or make it awkward for you. Or that I was ripping the bandage off instead of letting things go on to be more painful later. I was just letting myself off the hook. The truth is I didn’t call because I was afraid.”

“Of me?”

“Of how I feel about you. Felt. Feel. Whatever.” I paused. “I hate it when you look at me like you have been since I came back.”

“Fine. I lied. I’m angry.” His jaw clenched, and he stared at the water, giving me nothing, not even his mean face. “Why are you scared?”

I wrapped my arms around my knees and hugged my legs to my chest. “You don’t know me in my real life. This thing I’m doing with you? This isn’t how I am.”

“Keep going,” he said, his impatience obvious. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not like Jimmy. I don’t bond with people like he does. I’m close to Toby. Somewhat close to my uncle. Hope Harper is my friend. That’s it. I worked at the same coffee shop for years. I haven’t thought about my coworkers once since I left there. It never even occurred to me to keep in touch with any of them.”

“Nobody is like Jimmy. It’s a ridiculous comparison.”

“Fair. Okay, I’m a look-before-you-leap kind of girl. No, not even. I’m a don’t-leap-at-all kind of girl.”

“It sounds like there’s a ‘but.’ If we’re gonna have this conversation, keep going. Don’t keep making me prompt you. I don’t have the patience for it.”

Uh, obviously. “I’m trying! I met Jimmy, and I loved him right away. I met Eric, and he was funny and sweet, and I liked him right away. With you it was… there wasn’t time to process it. My emotions got too big too fast, and I haven’t ever experienced anything like that. It didn’t make sense. The more time I spent with you, the more overwhelmed I was. It was scary.”

He turned my face toward him. He was intense and frustrated with me, but I wanted to lean into his hand. I wanted to crawl into his lap and show him how much I wanted to stop talking.

“I need you to tell me, Willa,” he said.

“This is hard!”

“You know what else was hard? To let it sink in that you weren’t coming back. It was hard to believe feeling the way we did—or I felt the way I did, at least—you could leave like you did when the situation was totally salvageable. You could have come back. He wanted you to come back. You took your sweet time, and you never called me, or texted, or emailed, or did anything to suggest I’d ever meant anything to you. So keep fucking talking. Why are you scared?”

I got to my feet. “Because this isn’t a crush anymore! I’m not just attracted to the way you sound and your appearance and the way you are. I don’t just want you. It’s so much more. I’m calmer when you’re with me. When you’re not with me, I wish you were. When I wake up, you’re in my head. That’s what it’s like when I’m here, and how it was when I was at home. Me and my mom—a thing happened, and it hurt, and I wanted you. That’s more than an attraction. It feels a lot like falling in love, and I’m not brave enough to do that.”

He stood, too, and stepped toward me. “This isn’t how I am either, for the record. This angry, grudge-holding guy? This isn’t me. The lads had no idea what to do with me. I couldn’t believe you were gone. I would never have left you without a word. I assumed what we had mattered to you because it mattered to me, but you bailed.”

I stomped a foot in the sand. “It doesn’t mean it wasn’t real, or it didn’t matter to me! It means you’re braver than I am. That’s all.”

“No, it isn’t all,” he insisted. “Because brave implies a choice. I can’t get you out of my head no matter what I do.” He ran a hand through his hair, turned away from me, and then turned back. “When you were gone, I tried to force you from my mind. Even now you’re back, I almost wish I could. Because this is terrible.”

He walked away from me. The breaking waves echoed in the silence between us.

He cursed quietly to himself, and he came back to me. “This isn’t done. I can’t stop. I am constantly fighting to keep my mind off you. The whole day, I’m aware of exactly where you are and what you’re doing. All night, you’re right there. If you roll over in your bunk, I can feel it. If you sigh in your sleep, I can hear you, and I can’t stop wondering what you’re dreaming and if you’re warm enough or want another pillow. I worry that your fucking feet are cold because Jimmy won’t let you sleep with your socks on and you’ve stopped sleeping with him because you guys convinced yourselves I care. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter but hoarse. “When you left the bus tonight, I promised myself I wasn’t going to follow you, but I couldn’t help it. Most of me doesn’t want to let you back in, but I’m not sure I’m going to win the battle with myself. You’re not the only one who’s scared, Willa. I’m scared of what it means if I can’t get you out of my head. I’m scared to take a chance on you when I’m not sure you’re tough enough for it.”

“I’m sorry,” I said again. I put a hand on his arm. “I came back. Does that make a difference?”

He didn’t shrug off my touch, which was a good sign. I let my hand run up his arm and back down. I captured his hand. He allowed it, but he didn’t come closer, and he didn’t touch me. All I got was the barest curling of his fingers around mine.

“You came back for Jimmy.”

I shook my head. “I came back for me. It’s what I wanted. I haven’t ever had this kind of… I fit with you guys, differently and better than I fit anywhere else. I wanted that back, and I’m glad I have it. Even when you’re twenty feet away, glaring at me ferociously, at least we’re in the same room.”

He dropped my hand and went to the surf and let the waves wash over his feet. Eventually, he came back to me and sat back in the sand again. “I didn’t handle it well when you left. Drank a lot. Was a real prick to everyone. Eric said I should get laid. He said it the whole time you were gone.”

My stomach churned. “Is that what you want to do?”

“Yes,” he snapped. Then he sighed. He looked at the sky. “No. But it would be nice to stop thinking for a while.”

“I hate Eric.” The two-timing bastard.

The ghost of a smile. “You do not. He stopped saying it once I told him I’d talked to you anyway.”

He was silent, watching the waves. “Even if you needed to go, you shouldn’t have done it the way you did,” he said. “You kissed me, in broad daylight, not a sneaky, stolen thing. You let me believe we were building something real, and then you disappeared. Why should I trust you now? If I even can.”

Fair. I understood the need to close the door on someone who’d left you, but I wasn’t ready to give up. “I’m going to stay for now, but this isn’t my real life. My future isn’t with you guys. I want to be a photographer, and I can’t be if I’m tied to Corporate. The way I feel about you, whether it goes somewhere or not, it can’t be permanent. Our worlds aren’t the same. There are so many reasons this is a bad idea. But I… I like you. A lot.”

He was turned away from me again, staring at the water.

I touched his arm. “Oliver.”

“I wasn’t asking you for forever, Willa. I wanted a right-then.”

That brought us to the only important question. “Do you want a right-now?”

He didn’t answer me. He stood and pulled off his shirt. “Come on.”

“What?” I asked nervously.

He stepped out of his pants, and there he was in his only-wearing-boxer-briefs glory, and I was briefly distracted. Overwhelmed by the sight of his skin, and the shadows and curves of his muscles… it was getting harder to keep my mind clear, but a lot hinged on this moment.

He offered me a hand. “Let’s go in the water.”

“I’m scared,” I said.

“I know you are. Do it anyway.”

I wanted to take the hand Oliver was offering me. It was important. He was trusting me enough to do this with him. That didn’t take the fear away. Ocean… big, scary, dark… those things were true.

“I want to,” I said, willing him to understand. “I’m just not sure it’s safe.”

“What are you scared of?” he asked softly.

“I could get a cramp—”

“I’ll hold on to you,” he said. “I won’t let you go under, Willa.”

“You could get a cramp—”

“Then hold on to me. Don’t let me go under.”

“A shark could come—”

“We’ll punch it.”

“A jellyfish could sting me.”

“I’ll kiss it better.”

I perked up a bit. “Really?”

His lips curved. “Promise.”

I covered my face with my hands. “Oh God. I don’t want to say no to you when you’re being nice and mostly naked.”

“Come in with me, Willa. Don’t miss this chance.”

He waited with his hand outstretched.

When I put my hand in his, he pulled me to my feet. “We’re going to do this?” he asked.

“We’re going to do this.” I took my shirt off.

Of all the lingerie I’d bought with Jimmy’s money, this simple black bra was probably the tamest. Judging by Oliver’s heated gaze, it was good enough.

I unsnapped and unzipped my shorts and shimmied out of them.

His gaze was hot on my body. “I like your tattoo,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“I mean, I like it a lot.”

I glanced at the black, blue, and purple flowers blooming across my hip. He ran his fingers over it, giving me shivers.

I grabbed his left hand and turned it palm up so I could see the big tattoo on the inside of his forearm. “This is my favorite one,” I said, putting my other hand over it. It was a bare, twisty tree with roots stretching toward his wrist.

“Yeah?” he said.

“Mmhm.”

We’d been moving closer as we talked, our voices softer and more intimate.

“Come with me, Willa.”

I followed him to the water. I gasped when the first wave hit us. It was cold. It didn’t smell like I’d expected, either. I imagined it would smell like salt and coconut or something. Now that I was in it, it smelled primal, like living things. I froze, digging my heels into the wet sand.

Oliver waited in the surf. “I’m not going to force you. You have to go in on your own, but I’ll be right here with you.”

I hesitated, then stepped into the water.

“Good. Come on. Now we have to run,” he said.

“Wait! No, slowly. Let’s ease in.”

He shook his head. “That makes it harder. If you’re going to do a thing, do the thing. Dive into it.”

Holding on to each other, we rushed into the water until it was higher than my waist. We both went underwater and came back up, facing each other. The waves were strong enough to come up to my chin. I smiled at him, grateful we could have any kind of interaction at all. His hair was wet and slicked back, and the waterdrops on his eyelashes were reflecting the moonlight.

“You’re beautiful,” I said.

He finally graced me with his dimples. “I need you to stop being gorgeous and so adorably earnest, Willa. It’s getting harder to stay angry.”

“You could stop being angry,” I suggested. “I am really sorry. If you stop being such a dick, we could go back to having nice peaceful nights.”

“Would you rub my head again if we were having peaceful nights?”

“I would toooootally rub your head. I would do it every single night.” I waggled my fingers at him.

He laughed—actually laughed. “You sound so American. You would ‘tooooootally rub my head.’ You’re cute.” He traced my cheek and chin with a finger. “How do you like being in the ocean, you gorgeous thing?”

“I’m still scared.”

“Does it feel good anyway?”

A bigger wave came and lifted me off my feet. It set me down closer to Oliver. Then again. “It feels good,” I said.

He stood his ground while the tide brought me closer until we were touching.

“Hey,” he said quietly.

“Hey.”

“I’m scared too.” He tucked a wet lock of hair behind my ear. “You hurt me a lot. If I let you back in, you might hurt me again.”

“I don’t want to hurt you, but is there any option other than pain for both of us? If we do this, and it’s good, it’s gonna hurt because it’ll end.”

When the wave made me sway against him, he put his arms around me. “All relationships end eventually. We go into ours knowing from the beginning that our end date is when you need to stop doing this job and go back to the rest of your life. You have to decide if it’s worth the good it would be for now. For me, I guess the answer is yes.”

“I like you so much, Oliver. I don’t want to miss this opportunity.”

His voice was a soft murmur. “Don’t miss it, then.”

We kissed until my head spun. He held the back of my neck with one hand, his other arm around me, and I forgot to worry about our past or our future. The rhythm of the waves and the electricity of contact with his skin were the only things that mattered.

Then the bus’s engine roared to life.

He groaned.

I swore.

“Can we pretend we don’t hear her?” I asked.

“Better not. If she has to honk or call us, it’ll wake up Jimmy and Eric, and then it’ll be a whole thing. Let’s just keep it between the two of us.”

I made a frustrated sound, but he was right. He set me back on my feet, and we held hands as we walked back to the sand. “I like us together like this. I like it a lot. I may not have mentioned it, Oliver, but you’re hot. Like, pretty much the hottest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Hotter than Benny Walker?” he teased.

“Benny who?”

He laughed. “Good answer, Willa. When we get home, can I take you on a proper date?”

“Um, yeah. Yes, you can.”

He kissed me again. “I can’t wait,” he said when he pulled back. “It’s only a few weeks. We can make out like teenagers if there is ever, ever, ever a time when you and Jimmy aren’t in each other’s pockets. When we get home, I will take you on the best date of your life.”

When we were back at the bus, he caught me by the arm and gave me one more kiss. “Up you go. That was just an until-later kiss.”

I went back to the lounge in the dark and took off my wet bra and underwear. I got back into my pajamas and crawled into my bunk.

My entire body was zinging with excitement.

I’d been in the ocean.

I’d kissed a guy I liked.

He was going to take me on a perfect date.

Things were looking up for Willa Reynolds.