Chapter 28
Chapter Twenty-Eight
AIDAN
I’m walking out of the locker room after Thursday’s practice when I see Morgan chatting with the social media intern in the hallway.
“You’re going to be great,” she says, reaching out and giving the younger girl’s shoulder a squeeze. “We’ve gone over what types of things to post during the game, and I’ll only be a phone call away.”
“You’re right, I don’t know why I’m nervous to do this without you,” the other girl says, and I take this to mean that Morgan’s not planning on being at this weekend’s home game.
“Being nervous is a sign that you want to make sure you do a good job,” Morgan says. “And you will, so stop worrying.”
“Thanks. But I have you on speed dial, just in case.”
Morgan laughs and tells her again that she’s going to be great. The girl thanks her and turns to open the door to the staircase behind her, leaving Morgan in the hallway where she glances down at her phone, not having noticed me yet.
It’s been almost a week since she texted me about my offer, but in that time, we’ve barely seen or talked to each other. And the last text we shared was me saying that our arrangement was “perfect.”
I’ve been telling myself that I’m waiting for her to make the first move.
But the truth is, I’ve opened that text thread a hundred times a day and each time I overthink the hell out of what I’d say and end up closing it without reaching out.
Knowing her, she’s expecting me to make a move, since I’m the one who offered our little arrangement in the first place.
Her dad’s warning to stay away from her echoes in my head, but it doesn’t stop me from walking toward her when I could just as easily have turned and gone in the other direction.
Now that the offer is out there, and she’s agreed, I’d be a dick to keep avoiding her.
This isn’t about my mild infatuation with her; it’s about not wanting to make her feel like I changed my mind because she wasn’t worth the time or effort.
That’s what I tell myself, anyway, as I walk down the hall.
“Hey,” I say as I approach, and she jumps in response to my voice before glancing up from her phone. “I haven’t seen you around this week.”
“I’ve mostly been working from home,” she says. “The only reason I’m here today is that my AC is broken and the repairman can’t come until Monday, which does me no good because these temperatures are going to continue into the weekend.”
We’re having a record-breaking heatwave right now, the warmest weather Boston’s ever seen in October.
“I have air-conditioning,” I tell her with a wink.
She shakes her head at me like I’m being ridiculous. “I’m not staying with you.”
“You sure? I’m headed down to the beach for the next couple days. That seems like a much better place to ride out this heatwave than a fifth-floor walk-up with no AC.”
“My dad has AC and a pool,” she tells me, “so I was thinking I’d just stay there.
But then I found out he’s doing his annual guys' weekend where all his college friends come into town and they go golfing and stay at his house. He started it when I left for college, and I’ve been banned from ever attending. ”
I cough out a laugh. “I’ll bet. Men are pigs.”
“Ew,” she says, scrunching up her nose. “Those are my dad’s friends. I’ve known them my whole life. They’re like uncles to me.”
“Morgan, you’re a grown-ass woman. You go parading around in front of them in a bathing suit, and they’re going to be looking at you just like you’re any other hot woman in a bikini.” Does she really not see that this is the reason her dad hasn’t allowed her to be around on this weekend every year?
“So instead you want me to come to the beach with you and parade around in my bikini there?” Her tone is teasing, but I have a feeling it’s a genuine question.
I lift an eyebrow. “Obviously.”
She leans against the wall behind her, folding her arms across her chest. “A weekend away together seems like it’s veering into relationship territory. Doesn’t sound very casual to me.”
“If you think one weekend away together is a relationship, then I have my work cut out for me,” I say, shaking my head.
“Seriously?” She tilts her head and narrows her eyes, like she can’t quite determine if what I’m saying is true.
It’s not. I’m speaking utter bullshit right now. I’ve literally never taken a woman away for a weekend because I don’t want to give the wrong impression. But Morgan doesn’t need to know that.
“I have so much to teach you.” I shake my head at her like she’s missing the whole point, when really I’m the one twisting things so I can spend more time with her. “That’s it, there’s no other choice, you’re coming with me.”
“Ican’t believe how pretty this place is,” Morgan says as we sit on Old Pilgrim Beach watching the pink, orange, and purple shades of the fall sunset behind us play out on the waves in front of us.
Everything else around us is a deep blue as the darkening sky bleeds into the ocean where they meet on the horizon. “I had no idea this was even here.”
“This beach is the best-kept secret on the South Shore, and we like to keep it that way. That part over there,” I say, pointing south along the beach where the houses are built right up to the shore, “is Pilgrim Beach. It gets super crowded because of all the cottages packed in there. This part, Old Pilgrim, used to be a private beach, but when I was a teenager, there was a big lawsuit between the town and the residents of the houses behind the dunes.” I point over my shoulder and she turns to look, even though you can’t see the houses through the tall grass lining the sandy hills.
“So now it’s public, but it never really gets crowded down here. ”
“This feels like being on Cape Cod without having to sit in three hours of stop-and-go traffic to get there,” she says with a sigh.
“Exactly, which is why the first rule of Ember Cove is: you do not talk about Ember Cove.”
She huffs out a laugh. “Like Fight Club?”
“Exactly. And now that I’ve shared it with you, you’re sworn to secrecy. We don’t want it to be like the Cape.”
She laughs and pulls the hem of my hoodie over her knees so she’s balled up inside of it. Now that the sun is almost set, it’s gotten cool on the water. It’s a welcome reprieve from the heat wave we’ve been having.
“I see why you came back here last year,” she says, gazing out at the waves.
“Just wait until morning. There’s nothing like a run on the beach followed by a cup of coffee while watching the waves.”
“Sounds great . . . if you’re a morning person, which I’m not.”
“Mornings on the beach are the best,” I tell her, swinging an arm over her shoulder and pulling her against my side.
“I don’t know,” she says, doubt ringing out in her tone. “I think this is the best time.”
“Sunset?”
“No, like half an hour ago, during golden hour. It’s actually my favorite time of day anywhere. It’s gorgeous at the beach or on a lake, and even in the city, when the setting sun ricochets off the brick buildings and makes them glow.”
“Speaking of, we’ve got about half an hour of light left. Want to grab dinner at the clam shack and eat it on the jetty? They use a separate fryer for shellfish, so it should be safe for you to eat there.”
Her lips part as she pulls away and turns her head to look at me. I’m not sure what I see on her face. Confusion, maybe? “You . . . looked into that for me?”
“I didn’t bring you all the way down here to kill you, Morgan,” I say, my voice dry as I roll my eyes in her direction.
“Oh yeah? Why did you bring me all the way down here?” Her tone is slightly mocking, because we both know that she’s going to end up in my bed tonight, despite the fact that she left her bags in the guest room.
“Couldn’t have you dying from heatstroke back in Boston, either.” I let out a deep sigh as I stand and reach my hand down to pull her up. “I didn’t realize keeping you alive was going to be so much work.”
She looks up at me and laughs. “You’re doing a stand-up job,” she says as I pull her up from the sand.
I press my lips to her hair where it meets her forehead, but as soon as the scent of her hits my nostrils, I know it was a mistake. Like always, she smells like vanilla, cinnamon, and sugar . . . like a delectable treat I can’t wait to devour.
“All right,” I say, clearing my throat as I pull away, “let’s go get dinner before it’s too dark to see our food.”