7. Veronica
7
Veronica
T here is a special kind of magic in witnessing someone’s first encounter with the ocean. As the car got closer to our destination, I watched him slip into his usual Broody Bennett routine, but seeing him walk on the sand and feel it beneath his feet for the first time is truly awe-inspiring.
I wonder if this is like one of those moments that parents always brag about. The kind where they say Christmas is great, but you don’t truly get to experience the real magic of it all until you see it through the eyes of a young child. I’m not sure how true that is, but I have to say, if it’s anything like this, maybe they have a point.
While I can’t exactly remember my first trip to the ocean, I’ve seen the pictures of my parents holding my hands as they walked with me on the sand. I also remember all the other fun trips my family took as I got older, each of those memories holding a special place. But I have a feeling this trip will now hold the top spot in my heart from here on out.
He looks genuinely happy, something I’m not sure I’ve ever seen from him. Sure, it’s easy to tell that his smiles are hardly ever fake when he’s around Blair, but that’s been about it.
The beach isn’t completely deserted; a few random people are scattered about, but as the evening approaches and the temperature dips, I’m grateful for the chance to enjoy this moment with just the two of us in our own little area.
“So, are you actually going to put your feet in, or what?” I call out to him as I walk backward, feeling the cool, wet sand cling to my skin with each step as I near the water.
“I’m coming. I’m just—taking it all in.”
With a small nod and a smile fixed firmly in place, I watch him do just that. But for me, it’s him I can’t seem to take my eyes off of.
When he reaches me, he glances down at his jeans with a hint of regret, clearly weighing the battle between keeping them pristine and getting them wet. With a dramatic sigh, he bends and rolls them up over his muscular legs as high as they’ll go. I can’t help but feel a tiny pang of gratitude for my own foresight, having chosen a pair of orange and pink striped shorts, leaving most of my legs bare. Not to mention, I’d even taken an overly long shower the night before—most of which I’d spent in tears—and made sure to shave. Small victories!
“You know you didn’t have to wait for me,” he suggests as he stands, once again taking in the vast ocean in front of us.
“I get it, but experiences like this are always so much better when you have someone to share them with,” I admit, carefully leaving out the part about how I’ve been far more captivated by him, than the actual ocean.
He appears skeptical but shrugs, choosing not to call me out on it.
“Whatever you say,” he says before finally walking to the edge of the sand, where the first small wave breaks on the shore, only inches away from our bare toes.
“Come on,” I say, no longer able to stand his slow pace. I reach for his hand and yank him toward the water, just as another small wave breaks nearby, its foamy water skirting up and covering the tops of our feet.
It’s comical, as we both react to the shock of the cool water. I let out a loud screech while he intakes an audible breath of air as we jump back together.
“Shit, that’s cold.” He chuckles as we watch the water retreat back out to sea, before a new fresh wave comes barreling toward us. Luckily, we’re both a bit more prepared this time.
“Well, it’s still a bit early in the season for most people to want to swim, but don’t worry, you’ll get used to it,” I assure him. While a few other brave souls are in the water, the majority of the crowd is smart enough to enjoy the rest of the evening lounging on beach chairs and towels. “It’ll be even better tomorrow when we come earlier, while the sun’s still out.”
“I don’t know, this is pretty fucking cold. I don’t think I can handle much more than this,” he insists, just as a larger wave crashes in. We scramble to inch back, but the water splashes over us, soaking the rolled-up bottoms of his jeans.
“Oh, come on, Broody Bennett,” I tease, realizing that our hands are still interlocked. Instead of dropping it, I do my best to inch him further out, as the water moves from covering the top of my feet to my ankles.
“No way. I didn’t come dressed for this,” he insists. However, he doesn’t release my grip; instead, he weakly fights back, lightly tugging me toward him.
“Come on. Your clothes can dry. This is your first time at the beach. You need to take advantage of this monumental moment,” I beckon, and he finally gives in, taking a step forward.
“Can’t we just come back tomorrow?” he whines, still not entirely sold on this, even as we inch even deeper into the water, our clothes getting a bit more soaked as another wave crashes over us, with a few more droplets of water hitting my bare thigh.
“Oh, we’re coming back tomorrow, but you only ever get one first time at the beach,” I encourage. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re afraid of a little water,” I tease, finally dropping his hand as I lean down to splash some water toward him, the droplets hitting the bottom of his shirt.
“Seriously, Vee?” he asks, using the nickname that I’ve only ever heard him use once before, and only on this trip. I don’t know why he refuses to go with Ronnie, like most other people in my life, but weirdly, it sounds surprisingly nice coming out of his mouth.
I shrug. “I mean, you’re already more than a little wet. Just embrace it, Bennett.”
He purses his lips, less than pleased, but I can see something going on in that brain of his, and part of me already suspects that I’ve poked the wrong bear.
“Embrace this,” he finally says, lunging toward me.
I let out a loud yelp as his strong arms effortlessly wrap around my waist, and before I can even process what's happening, he hoists me up and slings me over his shoulder. “Miles Bennett! What in the world do you think you’re doing?” I squeal, half-laughing and half-panicking as he casually strolls deeper into the water.
“It’s like you said, you’re already wet. Just embrace it.” And with the water now at his thighs, his hands grip my waist once more before tossing me into the water as I come down with a loud splash.
I’m sure I look like a wet dog as I thrash my way up and spit out the water that went into my mouth. Once I regain my composure and reorient myself, I narrow my eyes in his direction.
“You could have at least eased me into it. It’s freezing.” I laugh, despite the fact that I just got thrown into the fucking ocean. Maybe I should be mad or annoyed, but truthfully, it’s sort of nice to watch Miles transform into the silly and carefree person he never gets to be.
“Honestly you should be grateful. Now you don’t have to worry about slowly easing into it. Your body should now be used to it,” he offers with a smug grin. I’m sure he knows exactly what he’s started, because as soon as the words leave his mouth, he takes a step back, but I’m on him in seconds as I do my best to imitate a linebacker as I lunge toward him. With my arms wrapping around his middle, we both go crashing backward. Luckily this time, we’re both more prepared as we anticipate the fall.
As the war between us escalates, everything else disappears. It doesn’t matter that the water is freezing, or that the sun is setting. All that matters is that we’re both laughing and finally letting go, releasing the heavy weight we’ve both seemingly been carrying for far too long.
It’s only as we make our way back to the shore that we realize that many mistakes were made tonight. It’s only April, after all, and while the sun is still setting, creating a beautiful spectacle of reds, oranges, and pinks across the massive sky, so has the temperature also dropped, and it’s not just the water that’s cold anymore.
Worst of all, we hadn’t fully prepared for this impromptu beach trip by bringing any towels or blankets. Knowing that we were headed to California, I probably should’ve been smart enough to pack a beach towel or two, but since I’d been so paranoid about Pete stopping by to confront me, I packed as quickly as possible—beach towels and other necessities had, sadly, been left behind.
“Please tell me I’m not the only one having some major regrets right about now,” Miles begs, and I have to admit, it’s pretty comical to see him soaking wet. Not only is his tight white T-shirt practically see-through as it sticks to his skin, but I can’t help but notice the way his blond locks cling so perfectly to his forehead and neck.
“You know what? No regrets. That was fun, and I can’t say I ever expected to see that side of you,” I decide, wrapping my arms around myself, and doing my best to wipe away the goosebumps forming as I run my hands up and down my arms.
“Oh, come on, you’ve seen me have fun before,” he argues, rolling his eyes.
“Not like that. That was an entirely new Miles I saw out there. I think I even heard a true and genuine laugh,” I add as we approach our shoes, neither of us eager to put them on. Instead, we grab them and continue our walk toward his car.
“Well, I’m not laughing anymore,” he grumbles as we reach his parked Mustang. “Shit. We’re going to ruin the interior.”
“A little water won’t hurt it. Plus, we’ll just drive to the nearest hotel and check in there. We won’t be in there for long.”
He lets out one last, defeated sigh. “Fine, but if anything happens to my car, you’re paying for it,” he warns, pointing at me over the top of the car before sliding into the driver’s seat.
“Just add it to my bill.” I exhale, and while I do already feel like I’m going to be owing him, my parents, and quite a few others after this little trip, it all feels worth it.
Yes, I may be cold, wet, and shivering, but this was easily one of the best days I’ve had in quite some time, and was much needed after everything that happened with my wedding. And as for Broody Bennett? He can keep up this little act of his and pretend all he wants that we didn’t have fun, but as I settle in and glance over, even he can’t hide the happiness written all over his face. He’s having a blast, and I plan on making sure the two of us continue to have the best vacation ever. We deserve this.