10. Daisy
10
Daisy
I stretch out on the soft cotton sheets, yawning. I hardly slept at all, and with the bright rays of the early morning sun streaking across my ceiling, I know I won’t get any more sleep.
Sitting up, I press my ear to the wall beside me. After Weston arrived last night, Jesse was in a foul mood. I tried to talk to him and calm him down, but he announced that he couldn’t be in the house with his dad, and that he was going to Rex’s. I know he was pissed at me for asking Weston to stay, but I meant what I said—it’s his beach house, and he’d driven two hours to be here. I’m not rude enough to kick him out, and he shouldn’t let Jess push him around like that. I know he’s trying to repair things with Jess, but he lets him get away with too much.
But what do I know? I’m hardly an expert on parent-child relationships.
There’s no sound through the wall, and I flop back onto my pillow with a sigh. I set up in the guest room beside Jesse’s room, mainly because I didn’t want to be disturbed when Jesse got in late. At least, that’s what I told myself, and what I plan to tell him if he asks. That’s justifiable, right?
Except, Jesse didn’t come in late. In fact, I don’t think he came in at all.
I tried to sleep, but every noise made me start, every time I thought I heard him. That, and the irritation I felt toward him. It’s not like I wanted to go and party with his friends—not even a little bit—but it would have been nice to be invited.
Instead, Jess stormed out like a teenager. The more I see this side of him—the way he acts around Weston—the less attracted I am to him. On our first date, he took me by surprise with his maturity, with his understanding about my inexperience and wanting to take things slow, and in the months following, he continued to surprise me. But the more time I spend with him around his father, the more immature he seems. He says he wants a relationship, but it’s hard to believe he’s ready for something so grown up.
It doesn’t help that I don’t know why he hates Weston so much. Family relationships are complicated—hell, I know better than most—but I struggle to see how Weston could have done something so unforgivable. From what I see, he’s a father who cares deeply about his son and wants nothing more than to repair their relationship, even at great cost to himself.
I’d give anything to have parents like that.
The sound of footsteps in the hallway breaks my train of thought, and I hear the door to Jess’s room open and close. There’s rustling, then a moment later I hear the sound of creaking bedsprings as he collapses onto the bed. I check the time on my phone and frown. It’s 7 a.m.
I should be relieved, but all I feel is anger burning hot in my chest. He’s out all fucking night, without me—without even texting to let me know where he is or when he might return. He might be annoyed with his dad, he might be frustrated that I haven’t put out yet, but I deserve a little more respect than that.
I haul myself from the bed with an irritated grunt and pad out to the kitchen. I’ll let him sleep now, but later he needs to make things right. With me, and with his dad.
There’s cereal in the pantry and milk in the fridge. I hesitate. I don’t think Weston is up yet, otherwise I’d ask before helping myself, but I can only imagine he’d say yes. I pour a small bowl and wander over to look out at the sea as I eat. The morning sun glitters on the waves, rolling gently and steadily into the shore. Beyond them, a figure swims laps, back and forth across the bay, their path so precise it’s as if there are lanes painted on the ocean floor. I watch them, mesmerized, thinking about how soothing that must feel. Suspended in the cool water with the azure sky above. I don’t spend enough time in nature, I think, as I chew my breakfast. It’s hard in the city, but I don’t even visit the parks much. I spend almost all my time on the subway, in the coffee shop, and in my apartment. But taking in the expanse of sand and sea and sky, I realize how much I miss being outdoors. I spent forever playing in the yard as a kid, and that part of me is still alive somewhere, deep down inside.
I polish off my cereal and am about to turn and deposit my bowl in the dishwasher when the figure in the sea swims ashore. They step from the surf, and I realize it’s a man, with a lean and well-defined torso, chest covered with a fine layer of hair, biceps firm and strong. He comes closer, crossing the dunes, and that’s when I realize who I’m looking at.
Holy shit. That’s Weston .
My mouth dries at the sight of him, wet and glistening from the sea, abs flexing as he navigates the undulating sand, hair wet and curling slightly at the tips, dripping water onto his broad shoulders. I should look away, but I’m riveted. I knew he was attractive, but the body he hides under those suits? Holy hell. I press my legs together at the sight of him, feeling restless. I recognize this sensation running through me, hot and urgent.
It’s arousal.
I mean, just because I haven’t had sex doesn’t mean I’m not sexual. I have urges and needs, like everyone else. It’s just that I usually have to take care of them myself, and there have been many occasions where I’ve done exactly that, picturing the man on the dunes in front of me. I haven’t done that since meeting Jess, of course, but seeing Weston now, seeing his body —the urge strikes me again, and I swallow hard, wetting my lips.
He glances up at the house as he approaches, and his eyes meet mine through the glass sliding door.
Fuck .
I break from my trance and stumble away from the door, heart racing. What the hell am I doing, perving on my boyfriend’s dad in his bathing suit?
I shove my bowl into the dishwasher with shaking hands and scurry to my room before Weston enters the house.
Before he can ask me why I’m watching him, half naked on the beach, while his son sleeps in the next room.
I don’t see Jesse for the entire day. I’m not surprised; if he was partying all night, and no doubt drinking too, he’ll be sleeping off a major hangover. Yet another reason I’m glad I didn’t join him. You know, if he’d asked me. Hangovers are the biggest waste of time on the planet. I’ve had exactly two in my life, and neither was worth it.
I spend my day by the pool, reading. Or trying to, anyway. I can’t get the image of Weston out of my head, despite the guilt I feel every time I let myself think about it. I’ve seen Jess without his shirt on, and while he’s lean and athletic, he doesn’t have the same muscle definition as Weston. He’s not as strong, as broad. He doesn’t—
Fuck, I need to stop. I shake my head, closing my book and staring up at the cloudless sky. I might have had a crush on Weston when he was the guy who came to Joe’s, but now he’s the father of my boyfriend, and not only is that wholly inappropriate, it’s just plain weird. I’m dating his son. I’m kissing his son. I’m… well, I’m considering sleeping with his son.
Am I, though? We’ve been dating for over three months now, and any time it gets to the point where things could go further, I freeze. I pull away. I thought maybe I simply needed more time, but that’s not helping at all. If anything, it’s having the opposite effect. Maybe it’s time to face the fact that this relationship isn’t going to be the one.
My mind flashes again to Weston emerging from the surf this morning. The way my body felt so achy at the sight of him. The way I felt so… needy. That’s the only word for it. I felt a primal, desperate need for him, and that’s a feeling I’ve never had for Jess, even in our best moments. It’s a feeling I’ve never had for anyone.
I really wanted to make things work with Jess, but the truth is, I’ve never gotten over my feelings for Weston. It was fine when I didn’t know he was Jesse’s dad, when I thought he was married, and I only ever saw him at work, but after spending time with him away from Joe’s, my feelings have only gotten stronger, no matter how much I deny them. He’s gorgeous, yes, but he’s also kind. He cares so much for his son, and he’s gone out of his way to make me feel welcome. When we talk, it feels like we really connect. It’s always felt that way. It’s like I don’t have to hide around him—like he sees parts of me I don’t even see myself.
And this only came about because I spent more time with him through Jess. The irony is not lost on me. Maybe if I’d known Weston was single sooner… I don’t know. Would I really have made a move on him? Probably not. I would’ve been too worried he’d see me as young and inexperienced.
Because I am.
I’ve put the final nail in the coffin by dating Jess because now Weston will only ever see me as Jesse’s girlfriend. No good man goes after his son’s girlfriend.
And if there’s one thing I know about Weston, it’s that he’s a really good man.
“Hey.”
I glance up to see Jesse, hair disheveled, eyes bloodshot and lined with dark circles.
“Hey.” I slide my sunglasses back onto my nose, turning to look at the pool. I’ve had the entire thing to myself today, which has been nice, actually. Peaceful.
Jess lowers himself onto the lounger beside me, raking a hand through his chestnut hair.
“How’s the head?” I ask coolly. He must know I’m annoyed after last night, but he’s not giving anything away.
He shrugs. “It’s fine.”
Right.
I blow out a long breath and reach for my book again, trying to figure out what to do now. Do I just end things with him? That feels harsh, especially when he’s brought me up here. And how would I get back to the city?
“So…” Jess’s voice interrupts my thoughts, and when I glance over at him, he’s rubbing the back of his neck in thought. “I shouldn’t have left like that last night.”
I give a slow nod.
“And I probably should have let you know I’d be out so late.”
“Probably.” But the thing is—I wasn’t actually worried. I was angry, sure, but I wasn’t worried about who he was with, or what was happening. Even now I don’t really care. And shouldn’t I?
“It’s just…” Jesse slumps back on the lounger, shielding his eyes from the late afternoon sun. “When my dad arrived, I got so mad. I came here to get away from him, you know?”
I twist to face Jesse properly. “I don’t know, Jess, because you won’t tell me what he’s done.”
Jesse rolls his head to the side to meet my gaze. He eyes me for a moment, then swallows. I think he’s going to look away and change the subject, but something in him opens, just a little, and he takes a deep breath.
“My mom got really sick a few years ago. Breast cancer.”
Oh. Wow.
I reach for his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
Jess flinches under my touch, his jaw hard as he stares at the pool. “And she… Dad…” His voice cracks and he stops, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I can’t.”
“I know it’s hard,” I begin, stroking his forearm gently. “But—”
“No, Daisy. I can’t talk about this, okay?” He yanks his arm away from my touch and rises to his feet. “I have to go.”
I look up at his tall figure. “Go? Where?”
“Rex is having drinks again tonight. I wasn’t going to go but…” He lifts a shoulder. “I think I will.” He glances down at me, but his eyes are distant, like he’s already left. “Are you coming or what?”
I blink. He can’t be serious.
Why did I push things by asking about his dad again? I know he doesn’t like to talk about that, but…
I rub my arm, shaking my head to myself. How can he expect me to be with him, to understand him, if he won’t share what is clearly causing him pain? If he won’t open up to me?
“I, uh… no, thanks.” I rub my temples, searching for an excuse. “I’ve got a headache after being in the sun all day. I think I’ll get an early night. I’ll sleep in the guest room again.”
I expect some pushback on this, but Jess shrugs. “Whatever.” Then he turns on his heel and stalks off, leaving me alone by the pool. The relief I feel at him leaving tells me all I need to know.
It’s time to end things with him.
But… I think of what Weston said to me in the kitchen last night, how I’m good for his son. He’ll be so disappointed when I break up with Jess, and I can’t stand the thought of that.
I chew on a nail, anxiety twisting my insides. I don’t want to hurt Jesse, but it’s not fair to string him along when I already know in my heart it’s not going anywhere.
When I have feelings for his father.
It doesn’t matter if Weston will be disappointed, if it might cut our vacation short. I need to do the right thing the next time I see Jesse.