Chapter 37
37
Lucy
There’s nothing but a blue haze filtering into the cold hotel room when my alarm goes off in the morning. I set it to the quietest sound, birds chirping or something just as discreet, but I’m already awake.
I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. Us going back to just Lucy and Dexter as separate people. Not one, not a couple. But I didn’t think it would be this hard. I didn’t realize how much I would miss him. I’m on a tropical island, but I want nothing more than to be back in Dexter’s apartment, us hovering over takeout and the warm, uncomfortable New York City humid heat.
I slip on whatever was on top of my suitcase, a pair of jean shorts and a loose T-shirt, and quickly wash up in the bathroom. Nat is snoring softly, something she claims she never does, when I close the heavy hotel door and quickly walk to the elevator. When I get to the lobby, Dexter’s already there. He stands from the cushioned armchair he was sitting in, where he’s dressed in a tank top, his toned arms and impossible-not-to-stare-at biceps on display .
“Hi,” I whisper when I reach him.
“Hey.” He reaches for my hand, and my fingers slip through his easily.
Why are we doing this? Why are we torturing ourselves? I ask myself these questions at the same time I shove all of the rational reasons away. Somewhere where I don’t have to be reminded that even this is temporary. After this week, once my sister is officially a married woman, I really won’t know when I’ll see Dexter again. It could be when Nat and Hayden have their kid’s first birthday or some other milestone-type celebration. Or never. I could never see Dexter again. There’s always the possibility of that being true because whatever future meeting we may or may not have will be through chance. Fate. And as Dexter guides me, tugging at my hand through our linked fingers and veering toward the sandy beach less than half a mile away from the hotel, my heart feels like someone placed a heavy rock on it. Just so I can feel it, the ache, the dull pressure, the heaviness.
Once we reach the sand, I take off my shoes, sinking my feet into the cold ground and letting it fill the spaces between my toes. Dexter follows suit, bending to remove his flip flops before taking my own shoes along with his and reaching for my hand with his free one.
We stay quiet, the sky slowly lighting up and warming the air in the process. When our feet sink a little less into the sand with each step and we reach the water’s edge, we stop. We still don’t say anything, but I hear our shoes drop with a clack and a thud. And Dexter’s hands are on me. One in my hair, the other around my waist. And he kisses me.
I kiss him back, my arms wrapping around his neck. His tongue dips into my mouth, and I whimper, making his hands rough and urgent.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since dinner,” he pants.
“I’ve been wanting to do that since I got in that cab.”
He smiles against the corner of my mouth. “It’s not a competition.”
“If it was, you’d be losing. Miserably.” I laugh, something weak and morose. And I remind myself I shouldn’t be having those thoughts. Wanting to kiss Dexter. Wanting to sink right here into the ground until we’re a hot mess of sand in places it shouldn’t be. But what if we discussed this? Maybe I could move to Brooklyn. Maybe decline the job offer from Elevate, start fresh in a new city. But what about everything I worked for? The past three months would be for nothing.
“Are you okay?” he asks after I’ve stood there too long, silent and brooding, while he holds my face in his hands.
I nod.
“Are you sure?”
I contemplate staying quiet, keeping from him the one thing that could send our reasonings and too rational decisions off-kilter to one side where we could be reckless. But that doesn’t feel right. Because he should know. He should know that when we both go back to our respective homes, it’ll be because we chose soundly. We did the smart thing and let our brain take the reins instead of our hearts. “I got a job offer,” I blurt out.
Dexter looks at me with wide eyes. “What?”
“Um, yeah. Ryan called and told me Elevate is going to send me an official offer letter soon,” I explain. “It’ll be at the LA headquarters, but nothing’s been made official so…”
“When did this happen?”
“Yesterday. On the way to the hotel. Ryan called me up personally.”
“So you’re moving to LA?”
I nod. “Looks like it.”
The realization settles over us, and the silence feels loud. After what feels like eternity, Dexter smiles at me. “That’s great, Lucy,” he whispers, his voice hoarse and heavy. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Dexter…”
“Um,” he interrupts, clearing his throat. “We should get back. With the time difference, everyone might already be up.”
“Yeah,” I agree meekly .
He picks up our shoes and links our hands together again, and we turn our backs to the ocean. We trudge because one cannot simply stroll or amble gracefully through sand. And when we reach the concrete where the sidewalk begins and the area is slowly filling with hotel employees organizing beach chairs and early risers enjoying their first day of a Hawaiian vacation, we pause, looking at our linked fingers. As if we’re taking a moment of silence before we step through the portal back to reality.
Dexter turns to me, pulling me into him for a long, tight embrace. “Thank you for agreeing to see me,” he whispers into my hair. “Can we just…make the most of this? I know we don’t have much time, but whatever moments we can have, can I be a little selfish with you? And I promise I won’t be all clingy from across the country once we go back home.”
He pulls away to look at me, and a tear slips from the corner of my eye. I silently nod, and Dexter swipes his thumb across my cheek.
“Dexter, I…” My voice sounds shaky and wet. And whatever I was going to tell him is stopped by the gentlest kiss. One that lingers on my lips and mixes with the saltiness of my tears.
“Come on,” Dexter says, letting me go. We quietly dust off our feet and put on our shoes before we continue back to the hotel in silence, keeping a good amount of space between us as we make our final steps into the lobby. Dexter taps my forearm, and I wiggle my fingers in his direction. And we part ways.
“I swear, Nat is going to give my dad a heart attack.”
“I don’t know who’s more scared,” Dexter whispers. “ Your dad or Nat.”
I gesture toward Nat flapping her hands in front of her to shake off her nerves. “Apple.” I turn toward my dad, who’s wiping a runaway bead of sweat off his forehead. “Tree.”
I look at Dexter, only to come face to face with a bright smile that makes the skin at the corners of his eyes crinkle. “You know my mom’s the one who puts up the Christmas lights on the roof?”
His brows shoot up. “I hear acrophobia is no joke.”
“But apparently ‘joke’ enough to willingly go ziplining.”
I adjust the helmet on my head, loosening the strap and clicking it in place under my chin. Dexter does the same. The helmet sits on his still short hair a little lopsided, and he looks adorable. A crooked grin cuts across his face, and his cheeks are flushed from the heat and the strenuous act of hiking up the hill. His deep brown eyes gleam when he takes in my appearance: harness criss-crossing across my torso and my hair matted to my sweaty forehead.
A crease forms between his brows, and his lips straighten into a frown of disapproval. “I don’t think they did a very good job.” He reaches for the buckles resting on my hips, his hands tugging at the straps and my body jerking with each pull.
I rest my fists on my hips. “I think you should leave that to the professionals.”
“You can never be too sure with these things,” he claims seriously. His fingers brush over the area of bare skin below my crop top more than once, and I smile through an eye roll.
The frown on his face changes, only one side lifting into a sideways smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s doing. And I can’t help the laugh that has me pushing a hand into him and my chin ducking downward. Dexter laughs too, and his hand slowly glides to my waist before he coolly rests his hand there .
When I look up, I catch a glimpse of my dad looking in our direction. Sweat is still trailing down the side of his face, but his eyes linger on my hand pressed against Dexter’s chest and where Dexter’s is on my side. I drop my hand, and Dexter peers over his shoulder, where he meets my dad’s observant gaze.
Dexter clears his throat, stepping to my right and extending a hand in the universal “ladies first” signal. I reach Nat’s side, where she’s actually whining. “Why the hell are you putting yourself through this?”
She huffs. “I thought it would be fun.”
“Babe, we can go back down,” Hayden offers, standing on the other side of Nat. We all turn to look at the edge of the platform, where a woman has a running start to jump off the edge like she’s casually cannonballing into the deep end of the pool. She shrieks before taking the final leap, and her body careens down the zipline. Nat’s eyes turn to saucers the same time my dad crouches with his hands braced on his knees.
“No, no,” Nat answers firmly. “I said I was doing this. We’re doing this. Come on, Marshall,” she says to Hayden, shoving him forward. “It’s our turn.”
“One iced macchiato they both back out.” It’s Dexter, his hushed words close to my ear so only I hear. And I wipe away the glum smile on my face as quickly as it appears at the sound of his husky voice and replace it with something more rousing.
I turn and jut out my hand in his direction. “Make it a mint and chip milkshake, and you have a deal.”