Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
I could only find a beach towel for us to sit on, so we’re snuggled up a little closer than I anticipated as we watch the sun slowly sink into the ocean. But his body heat keeps me warm from the cool evening wind blowing off the water.
“Do you do this every day?” Crispin’s gaze tracks a seagull flying parallel over the breaking surf. “I would do this every day if I lived here.”
I study his profile. His expression is so relaxed, yet intensely taking in each moment of the sunset. “You’re really into sunsets. Didn’t you grow up here? Haven’t you experienced an unusually high amount of ocean sunsets simply from living near the ocean?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle as his lips curl upward. “It isn’t possible to ever see enough, though.”
I look out at the sunset, but I’m remembering last night’s instead. “Mom and I have been coming out here together recently. Not every day, but often.”
“She seems better.” His tone is cautious. I appreciate that he doesn’t know if the subject is safe to broach.
I nod. “She’s starting to come back to herself for sure. She’s got a lot of rebuilding to do. Physically as well as mentally, but I’m feeling good about it.”
“Is she seeing anyone? A professional?”
“No.” I sigh. “I’ve suggested that. I gave her information about a grief support group. She hasn’t done anything like that yet, but I’ll keep suggesting it.”
When I glance at Crispin, his features are hard somehow.
“Mental health is no joke. When I was fifteen, I battled social anxiety and severe depression. It took me a couple of years to dig my way back out.” He squints at the view, but I can tell he’s remembering himself during that time.
“And it’s always something I’ll have to watch out for. ”
I’m shocked. Remembering the first time I saw Crispin.
Him doing that complicated handshake with Terrell, the security guard.
Standing in the doorway, propping it open with his body like he owned the place.
That kind of confidence doesn’t seem to fit inside a person who battles anxiety and depression. “Wow, Crispin. I didn’t know.”
A humorless laugh escapes him. “Well, that’s the idea. Can’t let it get out to the adoring fans that I’m not perfect. That’s one of the things that captivated me about you from the start.”
I blink. “That I’m not perfect?” I’m sure the side-eye I’m giving him shows my dubious opinion of this subject.
“No.” He laughs and waves a hand. “That T fan-boyed over you and offered his condolences practically in the same sentence. And when I looked up your site and saw your emotional post about your dad and all the outpouring of sympathy and how much you so obviously valued that – it was like seeing someone be accepted for who they are. No matter their circumstances. I was so impressed that you cultivated that sort of relationship with your following.”
I shrug, picking at the edge of the towel. “It’s not the same, though. That’s because they feel sorry for me.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s because you opened up to them about your life, and they empathize.
They relate. You’re a real person to them.
Facing real-life issues, while also entertaining them.
” He rests his arms on his bent knees and leans forward with a sigh.
“I wish I’d been allowed to do that. I think it would have helped others going through similar things.
I hope I don’t have to face that again, but if I do, I’ll handle it differently. ”
I smile down at my lap because we were both thinking about the same moment in time just then. Our first meeting.
“Yeah, I could do this every day.” His tone is light; our previous conversation dismissed.
I look up and grin. In the final moments before it sinks into the ocean, the sun has put on a glorious display.
The white-hot light bursting from it graduates to a buttercup yellow, which becomes a yellow so pure it hurts to look at.
That bleeds into a rusty yellow to a burnt orange with a band of pink at the edges.
And the sky above that is the most stunning cornflower blue that somehow has depth and texture.
I want to dip my finger in it and paint my name on the sand. “Stunning.”
We sit in silence as the sun disappears, taking the light show with it. I’m about to suggest we go back to the apartment when Crispin clears his throat.
“I thought…the other day…um.”
I cock my head, waiting.
“Are you okay? The other day, you came in upset and…” He drives his fingers into the sand on either side of him. Pulls them out, drives them in again.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I mean, from what I understand, that’s just gonna happen from time to time.”
He glances at me. “You seemed like you were doing well. Moving on.” He shakes his head. “Man, this sounds so thoughtless. I don’t know what I’m saying, I’m sorry.”
His fingers are driving in and out of the sand and the pace of a jackhammer at this point.
I place my hand on his wrist, and his movement stills.
“It’s okay, Crispin. I understand what you’re saying.
I am moving on in some aspects, but I wasn’t in others.
It was actually this evening that set me off. ”
He spins to face me, concern on his face. “What?”
My hand is hovering where it used to be resting on his arm, so I pump it up and down.
“Calm down. Not because of you specifically.” I sigh.
“Well, yes, because of you, but…” I sigh.
“Thank goodness for best friends. Glory helped me to understand that I was resisting this part of my life because Dad wasn’t here to witness it or help me through it.
The movie thing was easy to decide on because the acting was something we shared.
I know without a doubt he would have supported this decision. ”
Crispin’s body has relaxed, but he’s still half turned toward me. “But dating is a different story?”
I blush because I still have such a hard time accepting that Crispin Moore wants to date me, even though I cooked the man dinner tonight. “Yeah. I didn’t date at home. In a small town, you know everyone and remember when they ate their boogers. It’s weird.”
He chokes on a laugh. “Okay.”
“But Glory’s the one who made me see that part of my problem was I was afraid to move on without him.
” I blow a raspberry as a wave of emotion threatens to spill a few tears.
“But there will be a lot of life events that I’ll experience without him now, and avoiding them won’t bring him back.
She said that moving forward honors the time we spent together, the things he taught me, the way he loved me. ”
My voice quavers, and Crispin takes my hand. The security of it feels like a full-body hug. I smile through my tears at our joined hands.
“I’m glad you have such a smart best friend.”
Now I’m laughing through my tears. “Yeah, she’s a bit of a freak, though. When we hung up that day, she suggested I go attack you with my mouth.”
At first, he frowns, but then he laughs. “I definitely like her.”
I tip my face up and use my free hand to carefully wipe away tears without smudging my makeup.
I mean, I flipping put makeup on for this guy, I don’t want to ruin it.
“I miss her so much. We talk most weekdays and text several times a day, and somehow that isn’t enough. ” I blink. “Do you have a best friend?”
One side of his mouth tips up. “It’s pretty corny, but my sister is my best friend.”
“Oh, I really love that, actually.”
“I have a million acquaintances and some people I’m closer to than that, but whenever I thought I’d connected with someone enough to think I could rely on them unconditionally, they would end up selling me out in one way or another. So far, Claire hasn’t done that.”
“Do you see your family often?”
“Oh yeah. At least once a week. We get together every Sunday. But I stop in regularly for different reasons. My house isn’t too far from them.”
“You have a house? Like a full-on single-family dwelling? I always pictured a townhome or something.”
“You’re right. I’m a penthouse kind of guy. I really love a good view.”
“You and your sunsets.”
His cheeks pink, and he looks embarrassed to admit. “I actually have a few.”
I squint. “Homes? Like, you collect living dwellings?”
“You know, tax breaks and all.” He shrugs. “If you ever want to go skiing in Vale, you can crash at my place. Or are you a snowboarder? Because I’ve got a place in Bend, too.”
I shake my head. “I don’t do either of those things. Dang, that’s crazy. See, this is why I don’t understand why we’re sitting here together right now.”
His brow arches dramatically, and he shakes his head.
“You are so much more than me,” I say.
At first, he looks peeved, but then he chuckles.
“Oh, that’s funny?” I snatch my hand out of his. Playfully. Mostly. “You like to see the poor, simple girl marvel at your cosmopolitan life? All this stuff you do is generous, but it’s difficult not to feel inferior when there’s only so much I can do to keep up.”
“I don’t do it to show off. I really enjoy spoiling you.
” His smile is more sad than entertained.
“And I’m the one marveling here. You just don’t see yourself clearly.
Like, not at all. It may sound like I live a big life, but in fact, I have been pretty sheltered from it because of my celebrity.
Sure, I have a lot of money and travel a ton, but I don’t have any actual life experience.
Nothing like what you’ve lived through. You are ten times the human being I am.
Getting to know you makes me realize I’m just a shell acting the way I’ve been told and having experiences curated for me and never really experiencing anything because I’m either protected by a bodyguard or busy signing autographs instead of actually reading the plaque under the Mona Lisa. ”
“Oh, my goodness, you’ve been to the Louvre Museum?
” When he closes his eyes, I reach out and touch his arm.
“I’m sorry. I do get your point.” And I do.
He has been to the Louvre, but was busy making fans happy instead of enjoying the art.
I think of the time Dad, Mom, and I went to Kings Island amusement park.
We spent all day there and rode almost every ride in the park.
He could never do that. He’d have to rent the park after hours or something if he wanted to be able to enjoy the place without being mobbed.
We look at one another, but the air is thick with tension.
I gnaw the inside of my cheek as I consider what he’s said and who I know he is, and something else makes more sense. “That’s why you get to know all the support people. That’s why you became friends with a restaurant owner when you were just a kid. You want that connection to real life.”
He nods. “It’s hard for me because of who I am and what being my friend can do for someone.”
“Oh,” my heart skips a beat. “You said you’ve been burned before.”
“I have. The bubble they created around me when I was a minor was for a good reason. But it sheltered me from what I wanted most.”
“Real life,” I whisper.
He nods in slow agreement. But suddenly, he straightens his back and gestures to me.
“And then along comes Arabelle Quill. The girl I thought was an overzealous intern when I first met her. But who, in actuality, is someone who has navigated through far bigger storms than I’ve faced and yet can still make people laugh. ”
I swallow the pride rising like a lump in my throat. “Well, when you put it that way.”
His smile falls away, and his gaze zeroes in on my arm. He leans forward to get a better look. “Those are goosebumps. Why didn’t you tell me you were cold? Let’s go back.”
He jumps to his feet and offers me a hand up.
Looking up at him, I feel a little overwhelmed.
First, he’s impossibly good-looking. Second, he wants to be here with me.
But third, and most importantly, I think I’m starting to see what he sees in me.
And for some reason, it scares me, but I smile and put my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet.
He doesn’t let go of my hand as he bends to snatch up the towel.
He shakes the sand out and then flips it over his shoulder.
All the way home, my heart and head pound with the realization that I just might be worthy of Crispin Moore.