23. Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
P erched on the hot sand, the peace that overcame me had me feeling like I’d been here before, with him.
“Do you want your bag?” Grey’s voice reeled me back, echoing from above where he’d parked the car.
“Yes, please,” I shouted back, thankful he’d pulled me from my thoughts.
“Here you go.” He reappeared, sliding on his square Ray-Bans.
“Thank you,” I said, grabbing my bag.
“Now, let’s get back to this discussion about that one-time thing you were talking about. Can you give me your definition of the term?”
Throwing my towel down on the sand, I shot him a look. “A definition? I think it’s pretty self-explanatory. I’m not sure there’s much else to talk about. We’d been drinking. We hooked up. You left. That was the end of it.”
I was halfway kidding, more interested in his response versus actually meaning what I said.
“First of all, I’m sorry for leaving, I really am. I was summoned back to the city on behalf of my incredibly narcissistic father, and I wanted to ignore the call, but I knew I needed to be there for my mom. But—”
“You—” I started to speak, interrupting him, but he held his finger to my mouth, shushing me.
“Let me finish,” he demanded. “Secondly, I’d barely had anything to drink. I rarely drink, and when I do, it’s in moderation. Lastly, that was not the end of anything. Unless that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted, flustered . “I mean, it’s obvious I want you, but I’m not sure what that even looks like.” This kind of honesty was risky, but releasing it outweighed the risks.
“We both know how this goes.” I was too afraid to look in his direction. “You stroll into town for the summer. Host your fancy parties and say all the right things, just enough to hook me, and then come Labor Day, you’re gone.” I breathed, trying to ignore the pang in my stomach.
My god. I was fucking mortified for what he was going to say next.
His response came quick. “MJ, you have no idea how this goes, because honestly, neither do I. But given I’ve never had this type of unexplainable connection with anyone else before, that alone tells me I won’t be able to just leave.”
His confession had me screaming to look at him, but I resisted. Afraid that if I saw his face, I wouldn’t be able to say what I was about to.
“It’s easy to say things like that when you’re in the moment. It’s easy to get caught up in the lust of it all. This town is magical, especially during the summer months. It has a way of making you feel invincible, making you feel like nothing else exists out there in the world.” I breathed, feeling like I’d been holding that in since the first time I saw him.
I broke my own rule and looked in Grey’s direction. I expected him to still be looking up at the water, and my breath was pulled straight out of my chest when I found him staring right at me.
“I don’t know who broke your heart, but I really fucking hate that they did.” The serious, empathic nature of his words almost took me down.
Part of me wanted to be angry at him, because he didn’t know what he was talking about. Liv had broken my heart, but it wasn’t her choice. But then the other part of me felt like I could finally take a deep breath. Like somehow, he’d been able to dig through the bullshit and knew what I was really trying to say.
“Either way, I’m going to do whatever it takes to spend as much time with you as possible this summer, Miller. See where this thing goes. Yeah, I might take you to some fancy parties, and I’ll sure as shit attempt to say all the right things, even though you have a way of making that difficult sometimes.” He grinned at me. “But more than anything, I’m going to do my best to show you that not everyone leaves.”
His body inched closer to mine until I could feel him touching me. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest.
“Sometimes you don’t have a choice,” I whispered.
“What do you mean?”
“Leaving. Sometimes you don’t have a choice.”
“Right now, all I know is leaving you would be my last choice.”
He pressed a kiss into my temple, the sweetness sending me into a daze.
We both sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking in the scenic view that was painted in front of us. The clouds were showing off today, looking like they’d been plucked straight from a cotton candy machine.
I shimmied as the late afternoon breeze blew through.
“Here,” he said, grabbing his shirt from behind us.
As I went to wrap it around me, Grey pushed his hand in the way. “What’s that?” he asked, moving the white shirt to get a better look at the dainty tattoo that decorated the left side of my rib cage. His pointer finger traced the permanent ink just beneath my armpit.
“It’s a lilac hydrangea.”
It was tiny—only about two inches long—and extremely detailed yet simple. The stem was a single black line with three tiny green leaves near the top. The single bloom was shaded in a lilac purple, the individual petals stark against my skin.
The tattoo had turned out perfectly and was something I’d been so happy with, but sometimes, now that so many years had passed, I often forgot it was there.
“I like it.” His tone was curious, but not enough to ask any more questions.
It got me wondering about his tattoo, the group of roman numerals inked just about his heart. “What does yours mean?”
“It’s a date I never want to forget.”
There was more to that story, but similar to other times, Grey chose to only share a piece of the puzzle. But I was okay with that, because a fragment was better than nothing.
The car ride had been quiet so far, only blurry snippets of small weather cottages and people peddling on pastel bikes whooshed passed us.
I was still processing the comment Grey made back at the beach. I believed him when he said leaving me would be his last choice, but I wasn’t sure why. The time we’d spent together had been incredible, but it had been brief.
What made him so sure that this—whatever this was—was a good idea? Because as much as I liked the idea too, the hesitation was still there.
“Let me make you dinner at my house this week?” he offered.
“Oh, I would, but I have plans,” I lied.
“You have plans this whole week?” Suspicion colored his tone and he peered in my direction as the Bronco rolled to a stop at the light.
I racked my brain for an excuse while fiddling with the seat belt. “I told my dad I would help him dewinterize his boat.” Confident in my answer, I smiled at him.
I was hoping the light would turn green before he had the chance to answer, but it didn’t.
“Miller Morgan, you’re full of shit.” He lightly chuckled, the deep sound drifting between us.
“I’m not!” A grin hid just behind my lips, threatening to expose my attempt at keeping a straight face.
“You may think that I don’t know a thing about boats based on the simple fact that I spent most of my life in New York City, but what you don’t know is that during my younger years, I spent a lot of time at the marina, here in Montauk. And I know for a fact that dewinterizing a boat can be done in a single afternoon.”
Shit.
I said I had some imaginary deadline to meet for the hypothetical book I’m writing. But then again, that would’ve intrigued him, and he would’ve no doubt asked more questions, leading to answers I didn’t want to provide.
“In that case, how does Thursday sound?” I said, smiling as a sign of defeat.
He peeked at me over the top of his black sunglasses, a smug look decorating his face before he drew his eyes back to the road.
Nervous about his lack of response, I went on. “I have to work the next three days, and based on how packed we’ve been so far this summer, I have to pick and choose my days off.”
Pulling the Bronco back into the same spot he’d parked this morning, the car went silent as the keys came out of the ignition. I was seconds away from opening the passenger door and sprinting to my door when his voice startled me. “Thursday. It’s a date.”
Secretly excited about his response and also attempting to ignore the sense of thrill that inhabited the base of my stomach, I looked at the floorboard, grabbing my bag before leaning up and reaching for the door handle. Instead, I came up short.
The door was already opening and Grey’s hand was extended out, waiting for me.
“Bye,” I said, attempting to pull my hand away from his and move toward the stairs, but finding myself stuck.
Grey pulled me into him, his broad chest consuming me as his arms tangled around my lower half. He rested his head on top of mine, hugging me tighter. The embrace caught me off guard, which was odd considering we’d been far more intimate than a simple hug, but this felt more vulnerable somehow.
We pulled away just a little, staring at one another. The gold specks in his dark brown eyes seemed to glisten.
“See you Thursday,” I said.
“See you Thursday,” he agreed, his lips pressing into my forehead, forcing my eyes shut as I relished the feeling.
As much as I didn’t want to let go, I did.
“MJ…”
I stopped just before I got to the first step, rotating until I saw him standing next to the driver’s side of his light-blue Bronco.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
My jaw unclenched and a rush of relief ran through me, paving the way for the big smile that spread across my face.
I didn’t say anything. Instead, I returned to the stairs, making my way to the top.
Unlocking my door and stepping inside, I dropped my bag in the entryway. My smile was still plastered in the same spot as I fell against my closed door. Energy radiated throughout my entire body, leaving me giddy as I flailed my arms around.
I couldn’t wait for Thursday.