8. Taylor #2
It’s like wrapping a cloak of protection and security around me. It reminds me of the us we used to be when I felt so close to this man that I thought nothing would ever come between us.
How wrong I was.
Just when I think the wall between us that keeps me from reaching out to lean against him will never come down, Player moves behind me and wraps his arms around me, pulling me to rest against his chest.
I don’t fight it. For one brief moment, I want to pretend we’re still together.
He dips his head and brings his lips to my ear. I feel the soft brush of his facial hair.
“This is nice. It feels right.”
I’m afraid to voice it, so I just nod.
We stand that way for a long time; I don’t think either of us want to break the spell.
A fish jumps in the water, and I jerk with a jolt, and we both laugh.
It’s the first moment of joy I’ve let myself have, and suddenly I feel like a damn has broken. My eyes fill with tears, and I start to sob.
Player turns me in his arms and holds me, his hand stroking my back.
He doesn’t shush me or tell me everything will be all right. He lets the feelings roll through me for as long as it takes.
His hand strokes my hair, and he presses the side of his face against the top of my head.
I feel safe in a way I haven’t in a very long time.
He was always my safe place.
And then he was gone.
My hands tighten on the leather edge of his cut, and I cling to him. I want my safe place desperately, but I know this is only an illusion that will disappear the moment we leave this beach.
Still, it’s nice while it lasts.
Somehow, I feel like Cinderella gone to the ball, dreading when the clock strikes midnight and it all goes away.
“Excuse me,” a man’s voice says.
We turn to see the father from the family who was toasting marshmallows. One of his sons at his side.
“We’ve got to take the kids in to bed. It’s getting late, but the service that set up the bonfire won’t be out to clean it for another hour. You’re welcome to enjoy it if you’d like.”
The boy at his side holds out the almost empty bag of marshmallows. “There are a few left, and you can use my stick.” He holds a stick out proudly to Player.
Player squats and examines it. He whistles. “It’s a nice one. Thanks.”
The man grins, puts an arm around his son, and they walk off.
“Shall we?” Player says, holding up the stick and bag.
“Sure.”
We make our way across the sand and take two low chairs.
Player jabs a marshmallow on the stick and holds it to the flames. Soon it’s puffy, golden brown.
Pulling it off and blowing on it, he offers it to me. “Careful, it’s hot.”
I pop it in my mouth and grin around my bulging cheeks.
Lines form around his mouth and eyes with his broad grin.
He toasts another, bites off half, and offers me the other half.
Grabbing his wrist, I bring it close to my mouth and eat it from his hand, licking his sticky fingers.
“Goddamn, girl. You tryin’ to get me hard as a rock?”
I giggle, knowing this man has all the sex he can handle. “I’m sure you’re not hard up, Player.”
“I am right now. Hard and up.”
I almost choke on the marshmallow and fall to my side in the chair, laughing.
“Oh, it’s funny, is it? Makin’ me suffer? See if I share any of my marshmallows with you again.”
That makes me laugh even harder.
Player pulls a flask from inside his leather, twists the cap and holds it out to me.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking it and smelling it.
“Rum. Top shelf, so don’t turn your nose up.”
I take a swig and it burns its way down. “Whoa.”
He grins, and I pass it back and watch him tip it up, his throat working as he swallows.
Goddamn, this man is sexy.
The fire lights his eyes and brings out the gleaming gold in his hair.
He’s aged in the years since we broke up, but it looks good on him. Every line around his eyes is sexy.
I shouldn’t be here, sitting by a fire in the moonlight and drinking rum. Visions of Captain Jack Sparrow getting Elizabeth Swann drunk on the deserted island flash through my brain.
“Do you remember our first date?” I ask softly.
“Sure do.”
I lean back in the wooden Adirondack chair, and I roll my head to the side. “You took me to see that Pirates of the Caribbean movie.”
“I remember. It was the fourth one. On Stranger Tides.”
“The weekend before it came out, we were at your house doing a movie marathon of the first three. Me, Kayla, and Dozer, and you and your brothers and sister.”
“Yep. I was fifteen that summer, and you’d just turned fourteen. We rented them all at the rental store. There was still a Blockbuster back then.”
“Remember in the first one where Jack and Elizabeth are stuck on the desert island?”
“Hell, yeah. She set fire to the rum.”
I giggle at his outrage. “I remember all the times you used to sneak over to see me that spring.”
“You weren’t allowed to date until you turned fourteen.”
“You didn’t waste any time once I did.”
“No, ma’am.”
I stare at the fire. “We had some fun times, didn’t we?”
“There will be more. Life’s not over, Taylor. Maybe things seem bad at your house now, but you’ve got a lot of life left. A lot more of those good times ahead of you. Maybe even some for us.”
I’m quiet with that for a while.
“My father is selling our house,” he says softly.
That has my head swiveling. “Oh, no.”
“Yep. Nobody is happy about it, but I get it. All the memories in every room of the place are getting to him.”
“It’ll be sad to see it go. I always loved that your family was right there by us.”
“At least your mom kept your old house. I’m glad you had that to come home to. I hope you stay, Taylor. I really do. I’ve missed you more than you can imagine. I’ve missed this. Being able to talk to you about stuff.”
“Me too.”
He turns toward me. “I wish you’d never left.”
“I couldn’t stay. Not after everything. It was too hard.”
“I needed you back then.”
“It was hard enough watching you marry someone else. I couldn’t bear watching you grieve her.”
He looks away, and I see his jaw clench and his eyes glaze.
“I’ve been stuck for four years. Riddled with guilt. I loved Debbie. I did. Not the way I loved you, though. If that had been you in that grave, I would have blown my brains out.” His eyes meet mine.
“Don’t say that. It doesn’t make it easier.”
“Not trying to make it easier. Just trying to tell you the truth.”
“Truth? Really?”
He turns away; we both know some things he’s never been honest with me about.
It’s too late now, though. What’s the point of rehashing it?
The surf shop that sets up the bonfires for tourists rolls up to clean this one up, and we stand.
“I’m tired. I should get home. Walk me to my car?” I ask.
“Of course.”
At the end of the boardwalk, we pause and pet the yellow lab the couple has on a leash.
Player scratches the dog’s ears. “What’s his name?” he asks the owners.
“Her. Luna.”
“Hey, Luna.” The dog wags her tail.
We say goodnight to the couple and walk on.
We don’t speak on the walk back. When we reach my car and I unlock my door, I turn to face Player.
“Here, let me give you your hoodie.” But he stops me.
“Keep it.” Then he touches my face and tips my chin, dipping his head and brushing my lips with a kiss. He holds it for a second but doesn’t push for more. And in that moment, I don’t want him to go.
He’s already gone; a part of my brain reminds me.
When he pulls back, he opens my door for me.
I slip behind the wheel, and he crouches next to my seat. “You still got the same number?”
I nod.
“Me, too. You still got mine?”
“Yes.” I’ve never had the heart to erase his contact.
“Call me or at least text me when you get home.”
“Okay.” It doesn’t mean we’re starting anything. It’s just a safe arrival call. Don’t read more into it.
“Goodnight, Tay.” His use of the shortened name he always called me warms my heart.
I grin. “Goodnight, Josh.”
He winks, and then he rises and walks to his bike. He sits and watches me pull out, before swinging out behind me and following for a bit, then he breaks off and takes a road to the right.
Sadness fills me watching him ride away. I liked having him behind me. It’s like watching him ride out of my life all over again. I wonder when our paths will cross once more.
When I get home, I check on Mom. She’s sleeping peacefully, so I leave her room quietly and go to bed. I’m barely under the sheets when my phone vibrates.
PLAYER: Home safe?
ME: Yes. You?
PLAYER: Yep. You work tomorrow?
ME: I open the place for lunch. I’ll be there at 10am.
PLAYER: I enjoyed talking to you tonight.
ME: I did too. Thanks for not taking no for an answer and for making me take that walk with you.
He sends me a crazy-looking emoji with googly eyes, and I giggle.
PLAYER: Sleep tight, angel.
ME: Goodnight, Josh.
I fall back and stare at the ceiling. He didn’t say he’d come by, but he asked if I was working, so maybe I’ll see him again tomorrow.
The thought fills me with warmth. I know I shouldn’t want him.
I shouldn’t open myself up to be hurt again, but this feels like the first time when we were young and in love, and everything was new and we were just getting to know each other.
The feeling is euphoric.