Chapter 28
Julian
Holding her hand in the car, I ask her the little things I’m curious about. “How’d you meet Tatum and Lennon?”
“I met Tatum in Payson Library on campus. Then weirdly ran into her and her sister on the beach about a week later. Malibu gives small-town vibes, so maybe it’s not that weird.
” Her soft giggle is giving nervous energy, so I squeeze her hand and note her dimple popping in my periphery.
Another soft giggle and she continues. “They’d been surfing and were walking back to their car.
I was reading on the beach. Tatum recognized me.
” She quickly turns to smile at me before pulling her face back to the road.
“They seem fun. I, uh, saw Lennon, I’m pretty sure, getting friendly with Seth outside the cottage earlier.”
“That tracks.” She laughs. “Lennon is . . . friendly. And Seth is . . . a college frat boy. But it was Tatum. I saw the way they flirted during the pool party.”
“So, he and Noah and Lilly aren’t like—”
She cuts me off. “The truth is I don’t know. It’s a don’t ask, don’t tell kinda thing.”
“But you get what I’m asking.” I study her profile now.
“Oh yeah. It’s . . . let’s just say I’ve wondered, too. But I stay out of it and don’t judge.”
“That’s what I love about you.” I freeze the moment the words leave my mouth, then rush on to cover up what I said.
“I mean, you have this innate ability to meet people where they are, accept them as they are. It’s incredible.
And beautiful.” I sober on the last part.
So beautiful—inside and out. I’m not sure when I became a human Hallmark card, but thankfully Ever’s sarcastic nature is alive and well to keep things light.
“A perfect military brat.” She salutes me with a crooked smile.
“I tuck it all away, ignore it. Suck it up. As a psych major, I recognize the flaws, the patterns, that it’s my default setting.
” She shrugs, keeping her eyes on the road.
“Until it becomes too much. Then I run.” She slants a quick glance my way, then returns her eyes to the road and says, “Or tell the man I love to fuck off. Then run.” The smile she gives me is anything but happy—more self-deprecating and maybe a little guilty.
“Like I said, I don’t think I gave you much choice.” I bring her hand to my lips. “I don’t blame you, Ever.” She smiles again, but it looks sad, even in profile. “In a way, I’m relieved you left—like it was better, safer for you to be away from me.”
“I know. I came around to that—eventually. Not the safer part, but that you thought it was.” She squeezes my hand before releasing it to claim the steering wheel with both hands, turning into a parking lot off the PCH.
“Still, anger is a great motivator. I was determined to make a life for myself, by myself. One I love.” Putting the car in park, she turns to smile at me—a real one this time.
“We’re here. Best sushi around.” Through the windshield I take in the ramshackle building, weathered siding, peeling blue and green paint and a faded sign: The Salty Roll.
As she follows my gaze out the windshield, maybe seeing it through my eyes, she adds, “I promise it’s delicious. ”
With the air still warm and sticky, we opt for a table inside, near the windows so we can see the ocean.
Ever asks me to trust her and orders for us.
I observe quietly—in awe really—the young woman she’s become.
So confident and sure of herself. So at home in this life I know nothing about.
I don’t look at my socials, but even if I did, I don’t think I’d see hers.
She blocked me from her phone. I assumed that meant she blocked me from those, too.
Even if she didn’t, I didn’t think I’d be strong enough to see the highlight reels of her life without me.
Once I started therapy again, I strived to do the right thing, the healthy thing, despite how I felt.
Dr. Carver and I talk a lot about how it’s fine to feel our emotions, but we can’t always trust that they’re accurate.
Spiraling about things I can’t control is counterproductive.
“What’s going on in there?” She points a chopstick at my forehead and smiles around a mouthful of tuna roll.
Before I can answer, she picks up another roll and stuffs it in my mouth, giggling. So self-assured. Mesmerizing. Smiling, I cover my mouth with my fingers as I chew. The rolls are delicious, maybe the best I’ve ever tasted. “I just love seeing you like this.”
“Like what?” She looks genuinely confused.
I shrug and pick up another roll. “Happy? Confident.” I nod once and eat another roll.
“I am. Mostly.” She shrugs her shoulders, drops her eyes to her plate and pushes her food around with her chopsticks. Her voice lowers to a murmur. “Happy, that is.”
“And what’s lacking?” I’m glad we’re in public. She’s right. It always gets physical with us. Right now, my hands itch to scoop her into my arms and wrap around her until she feels like part of my skin, until she stops looking sad.
She shrugs again but doesn’t answer.
“Just say it. Even if it sounds crazy. I promise I won’t judge or laugh.”
“You.” She looks up under her lashes, her cheeks blooming.
I swallow the roll around the lump in my throat. The girl fucking owns me. I don’t think she realizes how much. I know she doesn’t. For all her confidence everywhere else, how can she not know what she is to me? “I’m right here.”
She shakes her head. “But you’ll leave. You’ll go back.” She shoves her plate away from her and drops the chopsticks.
“Ever, don’t do that. Finish your dinner. I’m here. I’m staying . . . as long as you want me. Okay? Don’t waste ‘the best sushi around.’” I use finger quotes on her words.
She rewards my efforts with a little laugh and nods her head. “It is, right?” She tucks it away.
If you don’t know her, you miss it. But I don’t. I see all of her. And I play along, let her turn the page.
“It’s pretty damn good.” I pick up a roll from her plate and feed it to her.
After she swallows the bite, she sobers and says, “But you’ll go back eventually.”
Nope, not gonna ignore it. And I’m secretly glad she doesn’t.
“I don’t want to go through that again. Feel that again. Missing you. Not having you. I can’t do it again. Especially now. Not after the last couple days.”
“What are you saying?” My brows pinch together. “Do you . . . want to go back with me?”
She shakes her head so her hair fans around her shoulders. “I can’t go back there.” She looks horrified for a quick moment at the mention of Blue Lake. Then it’s gone and she adds, “I’ve got school and I really do love my life here.” She rolls her lips inward, pinching them together.
I nod because I’ve considered this—that Blue Lake may be tainted for her now. I sense she doesn’t want to say it plainly but isn’t done, so I wait. “I just want you to be in it. Too,” she tacks on.
“Okay.” I blink but watch her and wait. Say it, Ever. Ask me to stay.
“Okay? Like you’ll come here? To live?” Her eyes grow saucer-like and she blinks expectantly. “Blue Lake is your home, your life.”
“If you want me in your life, I will be in your life. However, wherever, whenever.”
Her eyes light up, swimming with emotion. She smiles so big both dimples pop and the corners of her eyes crinkle. Then my girl tucks it all away with a few hasty blinks and snags the last roll off her plate and pops it into her mouth, smiling as she chews.
I smile, too, and swallow the lump in my throat so I can finish my rolls, thankful again we’re in public or I’d lift her off her feet so that she’d wrap her legs around me and I’d kiss her until we were both panting for each other.
I’m letting her love me, Doc. I am. “Blue Lake may have saved me once, maybe you, too, but I found out the hard way that my home isn’t a place. It’s you.”
One tear spills from her brimming eyes unchecked, and she’s never looked more beautiful.
“You’re the only home I’ve ever known. You’re my home, Ever.
I wasn’t sure I’d get the chance to tell you that.
Show you that. It’s easy to show you physically what you mean to me.
I can’t regret that we tend to fall back on sex because being intimate with you is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.
Therapy is helping me with the rest of it.
I promised myself that if I ever got another chance with you, I’d do everything I could to show you I can be the kind of man who deserves your love.
And now I’m promising you, Ever. I can be him.
I am him. Please let me prove it to you. ”
Her silent tears flow unchecked as she reaches across the table and lays her palm against my cheek. My answer is her nod and then her smile that shows both dimples. Then her smile dips, just for a second, before she forces the full stretch of it back to her lips.
If I didn’t know every expression she’s got, I’d have missed it. I want to ask her about it, but I’m not sure I want to know—especially if it changes her mind. Or mine.