Chapter 9
JULIA
I let out a contented sigh as my waterproof tote hits the soft sand beneath my feet.
“Now this is Heaven,” Aislin comments, throwing her beach towel in front of her to smooth it onto the ground. “It’s no St. Lucia, but…you know.”
“It’s no Bora Bora, either, but we’ll make do,” I tease.
Pulling a claw clip from my tote, printed with strawberries to match my vintage-cut bikini, I twirl my hair and use it to hold the style in place.
Aislin’s suit is a crocheted two-piece that she had custom-made before her honeymoon; one of several options she’d taken on the trip and likely didn’t have the opportunity to wear. Her chaos is often reflected in her packing – or rather, her over-packing.
From her own bag, she pulls a large plastic bottle filled with a ready-to-drink cocktail, along with two disposable cups, which she fills nearly to the brim.
The sweet blend of pineapple and coconut send a tingle to the back of my jaw as I take my first sip, settling into a comfortable position on top of my towel.
Aislin sucks down what must be half of her mai tai before letting out a loud, heaving breath, angling her head toward to warm overhead sun.
“Thanks for the extra day off, Mom,” she tells me with a smirk. “Your turn next.”
“I don’t like to take too much time off.”
“No, you’re a total type A control freak who worries too much about what might go wrong when she’s not in control,” she cackles into her cup. “We’re closed today, and you probably still found a way to spend two hours going through the accounts and schedules.”
As her drink empties, she refills it, pushing the bottom of the cup into the sand for support before lying back to soak in the rays.
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” she adds, holding a hand above her squinting eyes to shade them. “You’re annoying, and I love you for it.”
Silence falls between us as I reach into my tote bag for a small speaker, pinching my lips together as I avoid her gaze.
I hate it when she’s right about me. I did spend the morning going through accounts for the salon and for my household, and I definitely wrote up schedules for the next month, too.
Only a few moments pass after her head rolls in my direction before we erupt into loud laughter, my head shaking as I scroll through my cell phone for a beach-appropriate playlist.
We don’t get to do this often enough together, but I always enjoy spending time at the beach with my friend. It isn’t even about swimming – which we rarely do – or even the conversation that we rarely have. It’s the company of someone who loves you while you quietly share space with each other.
I usually pull up a book on my e-reader, Aislin tends to scroll through social media or take a nap, and we’re happy this way.
The alpha shifter in my book has just knotted inside of his unsuspecting omega mate when my cell phone next to me chimes to alert me to a new message.
With a playful groan, I rest my e-reader on my chest as I reach for the phone.
When I see Connor’s name on my screen, my body pivots as if I’m hiding evidence of a crime.
I guess, in some ways, I am.
I type out my response as quickly as I can, trying not to alert the best friend who I hope is now asleep next to me.
“What’cha doin’?” Aislin coos over my shoulder, forcing me to click off the screen as my head whips in her direction.
Despite the heart slamming against my chest wall as I startle, I turn to her with an arch of my eyebrow.
“I was adding stuff to my Pin-It board, until you scared me to death,” I tell her.
“Type A,” she teases with a shake of her head, rolling her body back into a comfortable position.
I offer a weak chuckle as I carefully slip my phone into my tote bag, pulling a sip from my cup as I performatively bring my e-reader back in front of me.
The alpha and his mate are just going to have to wait for another day.
A creak from the stairs forces a choice, my right hand releasing its loosely-held pair of lacy cheekies in favor of the left’s comfortable boyshorts. Pulling my cover-up over my head to discard it into the laundry bin at my side, I chance a brief look at the bedroom door as Tripp pushes it open.
Almost covertly, he studies me, scanning the lengths of my thighs and the curve of my breasts in as much time as it takes me to blink; and then his focus meets the ground, where his shoes are waiting for him. I slip into the oversized t-shirt waiting for me, letting my features fall.
‘I don’t like how quiet things have been tonight,’ my brain begs me to tell him. As he drops onto the mattress and slides his feet into his shoes, though, the only thing that I can manage to get out is, “Are you going out?”
“Yeah,” he tells me, pulling his laces tightly. “I might not be back for a while.”
“Oh, okay.” My lips pull into a tight smile as he stands, taking the few steps necessary to reach me. “Please be safe.”
A warm, gentle hand lands at my shoulder, the tips of his fingers offering a light brushing as he holds me in his gaze. Weight presses down on my chest, my eyes stinging as the air thickens around us.
We offer each other a smile, both of us faltering, as his lips finally meet my cheek in an all-too-quick peck.
“Love you,” he tells me, like he’s done a million times before, and as he steps out of our bedroom door, I deflate.
As the engine to Tripp’s motorcycle revs to announce his departure, I move to pick up our hamper and cart it down the stairs, with Drumstick following closely behind me. He helps me start a load of laundry and stays by my feet, begging for snacks, while I hand wash the few dishes left in the sink.
A glance out of our living room window as the moon rises in the evening sky, paired with the quiet air and the unmoving greenery outside, tells me that Tripp will likely not be back for hours.
Pulling my phone from its place on the counter, I bounce the corner of it against my palm.
My teeth tug at my lower lip, my eyes darting between it and the stairs which lead to our bedroom.
As I pull up Connor’s contact page for a video call, I trek upward and close the door behind me, hiding both my shame and my secrets behind it.
He answers almost immediately, wearing a bright smile that tugs one side of his mouth just a touch higher than the other.
“Hey,” he greets me. “Where’s Tripp?”
The question sends a stabbing pang of guilt into my chest.
“He left a little while ago,” I answer quietly. “I thought you might be out with him.”
His head shakes. “Koda stole my entire dinner off of my plate,” he tells me. “I’m not going anywhere for the rest of the night.”
“Aww, he just wanted to share with you,” I coo, pushing my lower lip into a pout as I cart my phone into the bathroom with me, resting it against the sink’s backsplash.
Pulling my hair into a claw clip, I push a foam headband through my hair to secure all of it away from my face as I reach for a bottle of cleanser. Connor watches as I scrub away my makeup and apply my skincare products, neither of us feeling any need to fill the silence that stretches between us.
His phone looks to be supported on his night stand, facing his bed. A bed too big, too empty for just one person. I don’t miss the gratitude that I feel at the realization that, to my knowledge, it’s at least not a bed that he’s shared with someone else.
I stop myself from asking about it, choosing instead to bring my phone with me to my own bed. Drumstick lets out a trilling chirp before leaping onto the mattress to settle into the space at my side.
Sounds from a video game on Connor’s TV filter in through my phone’s speaker as my eyes drift to the wedding ring sitting alone on my night stand.
I took it off last night; I’m not sure if Tripp ever noticed.
I wanted to know what it would feel like if I were to take it off, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so naked in my life.
Looking to Connor, engrossed in his game, I reach for my wedding band and slide it back onto my finger, giving it a twist out of view of the camera. As if it’s Connor that I’m betraying. My focus glues to the sparkling stones inside the silver setting, and I shake my head.
When I look back to my phone’s screen, Connor’s gaze is pinned to me. He studies me for a long while, wearing a pensive look on his face before finally wetting his lower lip and turning his attention away from me.
“What?” I probe, shifting to adjust my body in my bed.
“Nothing,” he tells me with a shake of his head. A few clicks and taps sound from the controller in his hand before his head rolls once again in my direction. “We’re just…hanging out. We’re not— I don’t know.”
I know what he’s thinking. I can feel it, too.
We’re spending time together like we’re some kind of long-established couple; and somehow, this single moment is so much worse than any of the times that we’ve snuck off and had sex with each other.
Even still, while he plays his game, I pull my e-reader onto my lap and flip open the book that I’d abandoned earlier today on the beach. The omega will finally fully connect with her mate, and everything will feel right in her world.
A girl can dream.
We keep our cameras on, occasionally offering each other a glance and a smile, while we do our own things.
And with every smile, a knot tightens in my stomach.