Chapter Two
Then
Avery
It’s not that I’ve never loved the beach. I have, but moving to a small beach town from a large city in the desert isn’t something I ever imagined I’d be doing.
Filled with conflicting emotions, I walk into my aunt’s small sea foam-green beachside cottage.
“I hope you feel at home here, Avery.” Her voice is sweet as she takes my luggage to one of the two bedrooms in the home.
My aunt Helen is a single, middle-aged, self-proclaimed beach bum.
She lives alone, does what she wants, and has a group of friends who are the same way.
Never getting married or having children, she enjoys her freedom—until now.
I follow her down the short hallway with the sound of ocean waves rolling in and out along the surf surrounding me. This is the new soundtrack to my life. “Thank you.”
Rolling my suitcases to the corner of the room, she quickly cranks the lever on the slatted windows, closing them. “The water can be loud sometimes.”
I glance around the tiny bedroom. A queen-size bed rests against one of the windows, and a white vertical dresser with a seashell-shaped mirror is on the back wall.
“It’s fine,” I say.
She tucks a corkscrew curl of her grey hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I try to brush it off. This is a common phrase I’ve heard often since losing my parents only a month and a half prior. I should be more upset, but I’m not. The only term to describe my emotions at this time is apathetic. How can I feel nothing? Aren’t I supposed to be sad?
“I’m glad you’re here. It’s no secret your dad and I weren’t close, but I wished I’d gotten to know you better.
” She shuffles her feet, unsure of how to address her estranged relationship with her brother.
“These horrible circumstances have forced us together, but I hope we can try to connect in the process.”
I swallow hard while a single tear falls from my eyes. “Thank you, Aunt Helen. I appreciate you doing this for me.”
“Oh, honey, there was no question in my mind when I got the call that I wanted you to live with me,” she says, sweetly cupping my face.
I close my eyes and pull my lips to the side, forming a half smile.
Maybe I won’t have to pretend to be upset around her.
It’s been a constant theater act since the accident, with me as the main character.
Accepting heartfelt condolences from my parents’ employees, friends, and business partners, I played the part of the grieving daughter.
I carefully constructed this cozy childhood filled with warmth and laughter, which could be further from the truth.
“Well, I’m going to let you be to get settled.” She glances around the room one more time. “This is all you brought?”
“Yeah, that’s all I brought,” I repeat her words, somewhat embarrassed by my lack of connection to the items I once owned.
Uncomfortable silence.
My parents’ lawyer organized the estate sale, which sold out in a weekend.
All of my things were included. I had no desire to keep anything but my clothes and shoes—even those I dumped most of.
I’ve never been attached to material items, and my parents never kept anything from childhood.
Two properties, a boat, and their investments were all put into the trust, with me as the beneficiary.
My mother’s precious jewelry and family heirlooms are now in a safe deposit box, along with other things I have no desire to access anytime soon.
“Okay, sweetie,” she says, changing the subject. “We have the cutest little downtown area with surf shops and stores. So, if you need anything, just let me know, and we can head into town whenever you want.”
“Okay, thank you,” I say, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed.
“A couple of my girlfriends and I are going down to the beach for a little bonfire and dinner if you want to come. If not, I’ll bring food back here if you’re more comfortable.”
Hanging out with my aunt’s middle-aged friends is the last thing I want to do right now. I’m numb, yet a few tears still drizzle down my cheeks. I can’t quite figure out what they represent, though.
I want to be left alone.
“I think I’m just going to stay here tonight.” I force a weak smile. “Thanks, though.”
“Alright. We’ll be sitting outside in front of my friend Sherry’s cottage. She’s only two houses down to the right,” Helen explains, pointing behind her. “I’ll bring you back food in a bit.”
I give her a quick nod. Then she gently shuts the door and finally grants me the solitude I’ve been deprived of for over a month.
Falling back onto the thick down comforter, my body molds into the softness of the mattress.
I stare at the ceiling without a thought in mind.
Should I be worried if I’m not falling on the floor crying hysterically by losing my parents or if I were gutted by facing an unknown future without them, but I’m not. Is there something wrong with me?
I should be missing them, but I don’t. This situation feels no different than my life was before they got into their accident. I rarely spent time with my parents because they traveled often. As I grew up, I began to prefer it to be that way.
The humid sea air sticks my long hair to the sides of my damp cheeks.
Why the hell doesn’t she have a ceiling fan here?
I sigh and place a palm on my belly, still facing the low light blue ceiling of my aunt’s beach cottage—my home for the next four months until I head back to Arizona for college in the fall.
Rolling onto my side, I get a better view of the bedroom. It is cute, simple, but comforting at the same time. Even with the windows shut, I can still hear the faint sound of the waves outside. I inhale the salty sea air, and suddenly, a sense of warmth washes over me. It’s shockingly calming.
I pop off the bed and beeline right for the attached bathroom. My eyes bounce from one seashell decoration to another. I chuckle at the stereotypical beachy theme. I take in the individually painted shells lining the walls and breathe in the light scent of coconut—my favorite smell.
Bending over the sink, I let my head hang low.
“Fuck,” I whisper under my breath. Then I turn on my faucet and splash cold water on my face.
Glancing up, I barely recognize my solemn expression.
My long, straight, dark hair fans my back and shoulders, and my hazel eyes look greener in the dim light.
The few freckles on the bridge of my nose have become more visible as the little makeup I had on has since come off.
I need to get out of here. I suddenly feel claustrophobic.
I push off the sink, slide on my sandals, and leave the room. Heading down the hall, I see no sign of my aunt. She has probably already headed out to the beach with her friends. I notice the propped-open double-pocket doors when I enter the small living room.
Taking it as an invitation to walk outside, I step from the indoor rug and directly onto the wooden deck. The breeze whips through my hair. Pushing it aside, I capture the beauty of the water and the pastel-colored cottages that line up and down the beach for miles.
Two houses down, I spot Helen with a group of people sitting in lounge chairs. Her smile is wide, reminding me of my dad’s—the few times I witnessed it. They’re joyfully chatting under the orange hue of a sunset.
My stomach grumbling breaks me from my stare. I should walk over there and introduce myself to her friends and neighbors. Since I will stay here for the summer, I want to know who they all are.
I blow out an audible breath and head down the three steps onto the sand.
“Hi, sweetie,” Helen greets me as I approach the group. “Are you hungry?”
“I am,” I say, slightly nervous.
I watch as she drags an extra chair through the sand. “This is my niece, Avery, who I’ve been telling you about,” she introduces me to the group.
A short woman with bleach-blonde hair waves from her chair. “I’m Sandy.”
Two more people introduce themselves, but I don’t hear them because a loud buzzing whips past my ear. Simultaneously, I catch sight of a dark shadow coming directly toward me. A sharp pain hits the left side of my face. I lose my balance, and instantly, I’m knocked into the warm, unforgiving sand.
“Oh my god!” I hear Helen gasp.
“Is she okay?” A woman’s voice I don’t recognize.
Flashing lights dot the darkness on the inside of my eyelids. My cheek is throbbing with pain. My arm flies up to protect the ache on my skin, but a steady hand stops it. Fingers gently wrap around my wrist.
“Don’t touch it,” the smooth yet commanding male voice instructs. I listen, releasing my muscles. “I’ll take her back to your place to get some ice.”
“What happened?” My eyes flutter open just as I’m hoisted into what feels to be moist, bare skin.
“Alright. Thanks, Jasper. I’ll call Dr. Waverly to see if he can come by to give her a quick once over.”
“I’m okay,” I mumble, a little dizzy.
“I’m going to grab you some ice anyway.” His breath is labored. My left eye barely opens through the pain. I keep them closed, but I know we’ve entered the house since the sound of the waves is muffled. “I’m going to sit you up on the couch.”
I nod. The man, who smells of suntan lotion and a hint of sweat, gently sets me down. Letting my back rest against the cushioned armrest, I’m slightly propped up.
I peel open my eyes, one at a time, then blink them a few times until his face comes into focus. Staring back at me is a pair of large brown eyes and a head full of tousled dark brown hair attached to a shirtless guy.
Fuuuck.
“Hi,” he whispers, kneeling on the floor before me.
My stomach flips. I’m suddenly aware of how I might look. “Hi.”
“I’m Jasper.” He pushes a few loose hairs away from my eyes. “Are you alright?”
His tanned, misted skin makes my mouth dry, trapping a ball of air in my throat. I struggle for a minute to speak. “I’m—um, I’m Avery.”
“Helen’s niece,” he says like he already knows. He did know which house to bring me back to.
“Yes.”
“Are you okay?” He pauses. “Avery?”
I wince. “The side of my face is on fire.”
“Sorry about that,” he softly apologizes, climbing to his feet and walking to the refrigerator. “It was me who accidentally hit you with that volleyball.”
What the hell kind of luck is this? The first day I get here, I’m on the direct path of a rouge volleyball—which happens to belong to an incredibly attractive surfer who looks my age. How fucking embarrassing.
“Here.” He hands me an ice pack before sitting beside me on the couch. Will he put on a shirt? How am I supposed to have a casual conversation with him when I can only focus on those golden pecks and that white shell necklace dangling from his neck?
“How do you know my aunt?” I ask, recalling her use of his name on the beach.
“She is friends with my dad.” Then he glances down, blushing a little.
My eyebrows snap together, wondering why he’d be shy about his dad’s friendship—oh. “Are they—?”
“Yes.” He nods. “They’re friends who spend a lot of time fucking each other.”
I laugh. And not just a light giggle, but a deep roaring laugh from within. “Wow. Okay. Go, Aunt Helen.”
He smiles. His eyes dart to the floor before meeting mine again. “If you’re staying here for the summer, you’ll get used to their late-night hangouts.”
“Good to know,” I quip, my cheeks burning. Resting the ice pack on my knee, I bounce it nervously.
Jasper removes it from my hand and returns it to my cheekbone. The chill forces a breath. “You’ll want to leave it on a little longer,” he says, leaning closer. “The ice will help with any bruising.”
He’s only a few inches from my face. I was never good with math and have had a tutor since middle school, but I bet there are less than four inches between our lips.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“How are you doing, sweetie?” Helen barges into the house with two friends close behind her, breaking the tension between Jasper and me.
Jasper backs away and stands up. “I grabbed Avery some ice.”
The way he says my name, drawing out each syllable to savor, makes my heart beat faster.
“I’m fine, I promise,” I reassure her with a smile.
She frowns. “On your first day here too.”
“It’s usually not that violent on our little strip of the beach.” Her blonde friend adds sympathetically.
“I spoke with Dr. Waverly, and he said that he’s sure you’re fine as long as your pupils dilate and you can walk in a straight line,” she rushes out with a worried tone.
I rise from the couch. “I promise, I’m totally fine.”
Helen glances over at Jasper. “Thanks for bringing her back.”
“No problem.” His eyes flicker to mine. A bolt of electricity shoots up my spine.
Jasper turns to walk out, but I’m still reeling from our moment. Not sure if I should say bye to him or not. Why wouldn’t I? That would be weird if I didn’t. “It was nice meeting you!”
He smiles at me from over his shoulder while running a hand through his messy hair. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
And that was it. That’s all it took for me to become intrigued by him—his confident go-with-the-flow attitude and messy surfer hair.