4. Chapter Four
Chapter Four
Eleven years ago
Callie floated just beneath the surface of the lake, her hair fanning out mermaid-style. The late-summer currents caressed her skin, teasing her now and again with a hint of the cooler water below. She loved this moment between breaths, when she could watch the sun rise through the rippling, blurry surface of the water. Watercolor reds, oranges, and yellows streaked the sky. Callie ignored the burning sensation in her lungs so she could drift for a few seconds longer.
In the distance, she heard a muffled thudding, understanding too late that it signaled running feet on the dock. Something large crashed into the water beside her. She sucked in a mouthful of water. A muscled arm circled her torso and yanked her toward the shore, towing her in an unbreakable lifesaving hold. Her would-be rescuer dragged her onto the rocky strip of beach, scraping her lower back and filling her bikini bottom with sand and pebbles. She wrenched herself free, coughing and hacking to clear her lungs .
The shock of recognition made her gasp, then cough all over again.
Adam.
“What the hell were you doing?” he demanded.
She cleared her throat and grabbed onto her anger. It was easier to understand than the other feelings swirling beneath.
“I was floating,” she snapped. “It helps me think. What the hell were you doing? You nearly drowned me.”
Callie’s voice ended on a squeak and she stifled a hysterical laugh. Had she conjured him up out of her subconscious? She’d been waiting for him all summer—he hadn’t been back since Memorial Day weekend, when she had cut her face—and now here he was, ruining the last morning before school started again.
“I thought you were dead,” he said grimly. The gravity in his voice took the wind right out of Callie’s sails.
“Oh.”
Both Callie and Adam were soaked to the skin, she in her bikini and he in his shorts and t-shirt, but she didn’t care. It was a hot, muggy morning, and it felt good to be wet. The rising sun warmed her. Pebbles dug painfully into her backside, but she ignored them. She was alone with Adam. Nothing else mattered.
He wiped off his face with his wet t-shirt, and she had a tantalizing glimpse of his skin. He was pale—that stupid job had kept him inside all summer—but muscled, and a light dusting of hair trailed from his chest down into his shorts. She swallowed and looked away.
“What were you thinking about underwater?” he asked.
There was no way to answer the question without sounding like an idiot. She could feel the blush creeping up her neck.
“I saved your life,” he observed, a hint of mischief in his voice now that he had calmed down, “so you have to tell me.”
“I was worried,” she hedged .
“About what?”
If she wanted to stretch out this moment with Adam, she had better say something—anything—even the embarrassing truth. She took a deep breath.
“I’m going on a date tonight.” The words came out in a rush.
“So?” Adam just looked confused.
“It’s my first date. Ever,” she confessed.
“You must be joking,” he said. “You’re, what, seventeen?”
She could feel her blush grow hotter.
“`Sixteen,” she corrected.
“And you’ve never been on a date.”
“Not by myself.”
“Well, you can hardly go on a date by yourself,” he observed reasonably.
She rolled her eyes. “I’ve only been on group dates. Never just me and a guy.”
“So why the worry? Is he a jerk or something?”
She snorted. As if she would go out with a jerk.
“No, he’s very nice. It’s just….” If she said it out loud, she would sound like a jerk.
“Stop thinking so much and just say it,” he ordered.
“I want my first kiss to be good.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “What if I’m terrible at it? What if he knows somehow that it’s my first time?”
That shut him up. Judging by the stunned expression on his face, she should have kept quiet. She buried her face on her knees and wrapped her arms around her head. Crash position, because she was about to crash and burn.
“Don’t say anything,” she pleaded, her voice muffled. “It’s ridiculous. I know. I’m a total cliché. ‘Sweet sixteen and never been kissed.’ I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Forget it. Just forget that I said anything. I’m sure it will be no big deal. I should be grateful to get it over with. It doesn’t matter if it sucks. ”
He didn’t say anything. Of course he didn’t say anything. How could anybody respond to such a pathetic admission? There was no good way out of this horrible moment. Maybe if she sat here long enough he would just go away.
She waited for what seemed like eons, but he didn’t move. When she couldn’t stand the suspense any longer, she risked a peek and found him looking at her, his expression serious. Worried, even. He probably thought she was out of her mind. She groaned and buried her face again.
She felt a hand on her shoulder, hesitant but nice in his attempt to offer comfort. Was this pity? She would take pity. If she were lucky, maybe he would even put his arm all the way around her.
“The first time for anything is scary,” he began, sounding like a teen advice column. He accompanied the words with an awkward pat on the back. She would have laughed if she didn’t feel so much like crying.
“Hell,” he continued, “I was terrified on my first day of work. A real job in a real office. What if I sucked? What if I wasn’t cut out for the hotshot world of finance? I still feel that way most of the time. What if I crash and burn and have to go back to delivering pizzas?”
She snorted at that—the idea was completely ridiculous. It took her a minute to realize he was serious. The guy was impossibly perfect, and he didn’t even know it.
She might be powerless to stop tonight’s train wreck of a date, but she could certainly talk some sense into Adam. She lifted up her head looked into his dark blue eyes. They were sitting closer together than she had realized.
“We’ve known each other for a long time, right?” she asked.
“Right,” he replied cautiously.
He removed his hand from her back. She paused, worried she had said the wrong thing, but he didn’t back away.
“We may not hang out,” she continued, “because you’re a lot older than me, but you’ve been coming up to the lake in the summers for as long as I can remember.”
He nodded.
“So it’s fair to say that I know you. You look out for your brother. You don’t torture the little kids. You’re pretty handy with a first aid kit. And you pay attention when I play my songs at the bonfire.”
He smiled at that.
“I may not talk much, but I watch,” she said. “You’re smart, you work hard, and you really care about getting things right.” She narrowed her eyes at him so he would know she was serious. “There’s no way you’ll crash and burn. It’s just not possible.”
He pinked up a little around the ears.
“I think that may be the nicest thing anybody has ever said to me,” he said at last.
Now she was blushing. Again. She looked out at the water and shrugged one shoulder.
“It’s true,” she said simply.
“Thanks,” he said, giving her an awkward side-hug.
They sat in a comfortable kind of silence watching the sun rise over the water. She should have been appreciating the gorgeous colors of the sky, but all she could feel was the warmth and the weight of his arm and his hand on her shoulder. All she could think about was how close they were, practically thigh to thigh. She wasn’t even sure how they had ended up so close together, but she had no intention of moving. An idea occurred to her that was so impossible—so breathtakingly bold—that she didn’t know what to do. There was one simple way he could help her with her problem. All she had to do was ask. If it worked, well, her scalp tingled just thinking about it. If it didn’t, she might ruin things with Adam forever.
She opened her mouth before she could chicken out .
“You could help me with my problem,” she said softly, still looking out at the water.
He took forever to answer, and she felt every second of it in the pit of her stomach.
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” he said. At least he hadn’t jumped up and run screaming from the beach.
“What if I’m terrible at it?” she said.
“You’ll do just fine,” he said roughly.
“But what if I don’t?” she insisted, turning to look at him. Her eyes dropped to his mouth, but that made it hard to breathe, so she looked back up. They were so close she could see his pupils, and she could see his indecision.
“Stop thinking so much and just do it,” she whispered, her heart thumping wildly.
But he didn’t move. He wasn’t going to do it. Her moment was slipping away.
So she kissed him.
It was clumsy, and stupid, and fast. She sat blinking up at him, holding her breath, wondering what the startled expression on his face meant. Had she done it right? Was she supposed to kiss him with her mouth open like in the movies?
He let out a half-laugh and her heart crumbled. She could feel the heat of the blush that must be turning her face bright red.
“It was awful, wasn’t it?” she asked.
He smiled and shook his head.
“It was very sweet.”
She closed her eyes. “This is a disaster,” she said, starting to feel sick. She had ruined everything.
“Hey,” he said, reaching over to stroke her cheek. Little shivers raced from his fingers down her neck.
“When the time comes,” he said softly, “don’t worry so much. You’ll do fine. ”
He kissed her earlobe. Her heart stopped beating, then started up again, this time fiercer and faster than before.
“Just relax,” he said.
He kissed the corner of her jaw.
“Don’t rush things.”
Then her cheek. Then the corner of her mouth.
She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t move.
Finally, his lips touched hers and she sighed. He was perfect.
He kissed her so gently, so softly, for maybe two heartbeats. Then he rested his forehead against hers.
“You’ll be amazing,” he said.
Somewhere along the way, her hands had crept up the front of his wet t-shirt. When she felt him begin to pull away, she tightened her grip.
“Callie,” he said. She knew that voice. He was going to tell her to stop.
She leaned in and kissed him again, this time softly, the way he had kissed her. He held very still. He wasn’t giving in, but he wasn’t pulling away either. She kissed him again, this time on the corner of his mouth. Then on his cheek, and then on his ear, the way he had done with her.
Her heart thumped so hard in her chest she thought she might be having a heart attack.
“Am I doing it right?” she whispered in his ear.
He nodded, his movements jerky and his breathing ragged. She smiled and let her arms wind around his shoulders. When she brought her lips back to his, he groaned, pulling her closer and opening his mouth to devour hers. He wove the fingers of his other hand into her wet hair and held her tightly against him. She lost the ability to think. She fell in slow motion, supported by his hands, drinking in his kisses, her arms wrapped around his neck. Sensation overwhelmed her: the rough sand on her back, the cold wet fabric of his shirt pressed against her chest, the heat of his body, the frantic rhythm of their breathing.
Suddenly his mouth was gone. His forehead pressed against hers as they both fought to catch their breath.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered. He would have pulled away, but she held on tight.
“Don’t you dare apologize,” she answered fiercely.
“I have to,” he said, shifting his weight onto one elbow so that the other hand could stroke her cheek, his fingertips tracing her faint scar from earlier in the summer. “If it had to happen—and let’s be clear, this should never have happened—I should have kept it gentle.” He demonstrated, kissing her softly while his hand smoothed her hair back. “I should have let you breathe.” He kissed her again, achingly kind. His fingers trailed down her neck and traced her collar bone. She whimpered, arching her back to get closer to him.
He deepened the kiss, but not like before. He held back, and she growled with frustration.
“You’re much too young,” he said, his voice laced with regret. He kissed her one last time before resting his forehead against hers. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”
“Well I’m not,” she declared. She would have wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again, but he pulled away, sat up, and studied the sunrise sky.
“This has to stop,” he said.
She stretched out long on the sand, her body on fire, feeling violently alive.
“Why?” she demanded.
He laughed. “You are a dangerous young woman, Callie James.”
“Yes.” She grinned. “Yes I am.”
Was it wrong to be so pleased with herself? Despite the rocky start, this was exactly what she had been hoping for in a first kiss .
She lay silent in the sand for a few moments longer and then he pulled her up to sit beside him, right back where they started. He brushed the sand off her back. She leaned her head on his shoulder, he put his arm around her, and together they looked out at the water. Soon the joggers would be out with their dogs and the water skiers would break the calm, but for now, they had the lake to themselves.
“This can’t happen again, Callie,” he said. “You’re sixteen. I’m twenty-two. Your parents would kill me if they found out, and then send my dead body to jail.”
“I know.” She gave him a crooked smile. “But it was totally worth it.”
He caught her hand and pressed his lips to her palm, then nodded. She curled her fingers around the imprint of his kiss.
He stood, then offered her a hand to help her up, but she shook her head.
“I’m going to stay here for a little while.”
He studied her for a moment.
“You okay?” he asked.
She smiled and nodded. ‘Okay’ didn’t even begin to describe it. Blissful. Rapturous. Delirious. Ecstatic. She finally had a reason to use all those crazy vocabulary words from English class.
“Enjoy your first date, Callie James.”
She watched him walk away until she couldn’t see him anymore, then she looked back out at the lake. Adam had given her the perfect first kiss, and she would never forget it.
Adam woke abruptly, his heart pounding, unsure of what had yanked him so suddenly from the depths of sleep. Not the phone. Not a nightmare. The house lay still in the predawn light .
Then he heard it. The creak of a floorboard. The slow squeal of the screen door. Danny was sneaking out again.
Adam forced himself to be still, fought the urge to race after Danny and haul his ass back home. He needed to find out what the hell Danny did every morning, and there was only one way to know for sure.
Rolling out of bed, Adam grabbed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt off the floor, pulling them on as he moved through the dimly lit house. He jammed his feet into a pair of shoes by the back door and slipped out as quietly as Danny had just moments before, easing the door shut behind him. The chilly air cleared his mind and sharpened his senses. Although he couldn’t see or hear Danny, he could just make out a trail of small footprints leading across the frosted grass and down the hill toward the lake. For once, Adam was grateful for the late spring.
When he reached the shore path, Adam paused to listen. He heard the scrape of a footstep and the click of a storm door coming from the direction of the commons. He approached slowly, finding a spot where he could spy on the summer house. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
Callie had come home.
He recognized her silhouette, and the long blond curls shielding her face. She had a guitar in her lap, and he heard the muffled sounds of music coming through the storm windows. Danny sat in one of the wicker chairs, his back to Adam and his full attention on Callie.
Cold seeped through the thin cotton of his t-shirt, and he grew increasingly upset. He wasn’t sure who frustrated him more, Danny and his flagrant disregard for the rules, or Callie and her power to knock him on his ass after so many years.
Did she consider that Danny might be out here without permission? Did she even know that Danny belonged to him?
Adam tried to set aside his turbulent emotions, but it wasn’t easy. First he needed to accept that Danny had sought out the company of a stranger rather than turning to him. Then he had to wade through the confusion of Callie’s return. His reaction to her was so strong that he was afraid to examine it too closely. Underneath it all was a layer of regret that had solidified over the years into something approaching anger. He couldn’t tell if the anger was directed at Callie or at himself, so he tried to stick to the facts.
First, there was no way that Callie would be sticking around. He had followed her career closely enough to know that this was her moment. The band was poised to break into the big time. Only a fool would walk away right when all the hard work was about to pay off, and Callie was no fool.
Second, Adam didn’t want Danny getting attached to a short-timer. Adam knew all too well how much it hurt to watch Callie walk away. The kid didn’t need to go through that.
Adam wasn’t sure how long he waited, spying on the pair of them from his chilly vantage point down by the shore. He couldn’t see much, and he could hear even less, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself away.
As the sun rose, the animal chatter grew louder, and Adam’s stiff muscles began to cramp. He stretched, rubbing some circulation back into his arms, and finally retreated to the relative warmth of the cottage. He had uncovered the reason behind Danny’s early morning disappearances, but instead of satisfaction, he felt only defeat.