Chapter Seven
Okay, so Willa’s eyes are, in fact, green. And though they’re a lighter shade than mine, they are vibrant. She is vibrant. I like her energy. I’m glad she’s staying.
It’s also incredible that we work so well together. Not only did we throw together a tasty dinner, moving seamlessly around each other in the kitchen, but the cleanup went just as smoothly.
She handed me the dirty plates, and I loaded the dishwasher. We were like a finely tuned machine.
Afterward, she let me know that she wanted to change into something more comfortable before we sit outside by the pool.
She was still wearing the dress she arrived in, so I told her I understood, and even if she wanted to clean up some, that was fine with me.
Looking relieved, she said she would like to take a quick shower. “I promise to make it fast,” she added.
I waved my hand. “Take your time. We have nowhere else to be, right? I’ll wait for you out by the pool.”
That’s where I am now—leaned back on one of the plushy loungers, my ankles crossed. I’ve been waiting only about fifteen minutes, which isn’t bad.
Then, just as the breeze picks up, I hear the sound of the sliding glass door opening.
Twisting to look back, I watch as Willa steps out.
Man, she looks good.
She now has on dark gray boy shorts that really show off her long, lean legs and a thin pink tee. The shorts are tight, and the top is kind of see-through. But she’s wearing a bra.
Damn.
No, maybe it’s for the best. I need to stay focused. The last thing I want to do is get caught staring at her chest and creep the poor girl out.
There’s nothing romantic going on here anyway, and there’s not going to be. We are just two adults sharing this beautiful space and spending some time together. The most that I expect to come from this is for us to maybe become friends.
Yeah, that’d be nice.
“What are you thinking about?” Willa asks as she plops down on the lounger next to me. “You look a little lost in thought over here.”
I decide, fuck it, I’m just going to be honest.
Well, about that last part, that is.
Clearing my throat, I say, “I was just thinking about the mix-up again, and that I hope we become friends. It’d be nice to stay in touch once we get back home to Phoenix.”
She nods. “Oh, I completely agree. And…” She grins at me. “I think we’re off to a promising start.”
“We are,” I reply. And then, in the interest of building this friendship, and because I’m curious, I ask her, “What brought you down to this island, Willa? I mean, not to overstep, but why did you come here all by yourself?”
She blows out a breath. “Well, first, you’re not overstepping, especially if we’re going to be friends.” I smile at her, and she smiles back. Then she continues, “To be honest, I had a pretty bad breakup last month.”
I wince. “Aw, man, that sucks. I’m sorry.”
“Thanks,” she says. “But it was partly my own fault.”
“Why’s that?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Well, we were only dating for a few months. I let myself get too involved, even when I saw the red flags. He was always so distant; I should’ve known. The writing was on the wall, I just didn’t see it till he told me—via text, mind you—that it was over.”
I can’t help but blurt out, “What an asshole.”
I guess it’s all good, though, ’cause she laughs and says, “Yeah, he was an asshole. I see that now. I actually dodged a bullet. But it still hurts.”
I say quietly, “So you came here to mend your heart.”
She nods once. “Yeah, pretty much. I have a wedding planning business with my best friend, Shay, and, as you could imagine, I really needed a break from all that sappy love and happiness, you know?”
“Whoa, yeah.” I shake my head. “I can see where that would be a lot to deal with.”
“It was,” she shares. “So, yeah, I guess the hope is that this time away will heal my heart some.”
“Well…” I catch and hold her gaze. “Maybe I can help.”
Softly, she replies, “Yeah, maybe you can. I have to say, I already feel a little better and a bit more like my usual self.”
“Good.” I nod decisively. “That’s a great start. By the time you leave here, let’s make it a mission that you’re fully back to you.”
Smiling, she says, “That would be nice.”
We’re quiet for a beat, and then she asks, “So, why did you come down here all alone?”
“Oh, hell.” I wave my hand around. “I wanted to get away from all the craziness surrounding the playoffs. Just the stress, the grind, dealing with the press more than usual, all of it. I need to decompress.”
Nodding, she says, “That makes sense. So, just decompressing? No bad breakups?”
I snort and decide to share a little more. “Hell, every date I ever have seems to end in a bad breakup.”
She twists on her lounger to face me more fully. “How do you mean?” she asks. “It can’t be that awful.”
I scoff. “Oh, I assure you, it is. I guess you could just say I’m unlucky in love.”
Softly, she tells me, “Hey, you’ll find your someone. She’s out there, I’m sure of it.”
Looking over at her, our eyes meet, and something, though very tiny, sparks.
Still holding her gaze, in this moment, I believe her and feel compelled to quietly murmur, “I hope you’re right.”