Chapter 23
SPENCER
EIGHT YEARS AGO
Whenever things become too much—feel too overwhelming—I come to the beach. Holding my board under my arm, the ocean water licks my ankles as I head for the shore. I stick my board in the sand and unzip my wetsuit, pulling it down to my waist before I plop down in the sand.
Normally, T.J. would be here with me, but I’m never going to have my best friend laughing at my side again.
I keep going over and over in my head, those last days with him and how I wish I would’ve known it was the last time we’d play video games together, the last time he’d pick me up for school, the last time we’d skateboard.
I would’ve cherished every moment so much more.
I keep thinking I’ll wake up from his nightmare, but I don’t.
Bringing my knees up, I rest my arms across them and gaze out at the ocean. The sun will be going down soon, and I know I should head home, but I can’t seem to get my legs to work.
I’ll watch the sunset and then I’ll go.
That’s when I see her, standing at the edge of the water dipping her toes in. She laughs as her hair blows in the wind and says something to one of her friends.
She’s so pretty and kind. Smart, too. Whenever I see her it’s like the sun is shining on me. She chases away my shadows and I bask in her warmth.
She spins and when she stops, she’s facing me. Even from the distance, she must feel my stare. She shields her eyes and squints, smiling when she realizes it’s me.
She says something to her friend before heading my way.
Oh, god.
She’s coming over here.
Panic surges through me. I’ve never been nervous around girls before.
Not until her.
“Hey.” She smiles and points to the sand beside me. “Want some company?”
My brain short circuits and all I do is stare at her.
With a laugh, she asks, “Are you okay?”
Shit.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. Yeah, you can sit there. It’s a free beach.”
Free beach? You sound ridiculous!
She sits down beside me and pulls her hair back, securing it with an elastic. A few strands still blow around her face.
“How are you?” The look she gives me—both somehow soft and concerned but also not at all judgmental puts me at ease.
“Not well,” I answer honestly.
“It can’t be easy,” she says, looking out at the water same as me. Closing her eyes, she inhales a breath. “I love the smell of the ocean.”
“Me too.”
She tucks loose strands behind her ear. “I don’t know if I should tell you this or not…” Her voice is soft as she trails off. Grabbing a handful of sand, she lets it sift through her fingers. “We don’t know for sure, but we think Willa’s transplant came from T.J.”
A small choking sound comes out of me. Willa had told me she’d gotten a transplant when we last hung out, but I hadn’t bothered to think about who it might be from.
Another sound comes from me, and I realize I’m hyperventilating.
“That’s … that’s good. That’s … really good.” And it is. The one good thing to come out of T.J.’s passing is knowing that his various organs and tissues helped others—that it wasn’t a complete loss.
“Like I said, we don’t know for sure, they don’t tell the recipient who it came from, but with the timing it seems likely.”
“I can’t believe he’s gone.” The words coming out on a choked sob. “I miss him so much.”
She leans against me, her head resting on my shoulder and looping her arms around mine.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
I lay my head on top of hers. “More than okay.”
Minutes pass and even though I don’t want her to go, I ask, “Do you need to get back to your friends?”
She shakes her head. “No, I told them to go on without me. I figured I could get a ride with you. Is that okay?”
Hell yeah it’s okay.
“That’s fine. I was going to watch the sunset and then go.” Already the sky is awash in bright pinks and purples. It won’t be much longer until it’s entirely gone from the sky.
“Sounds good.” She squeezes my arm a little tighter, wiggling closer.
The temperature is dropping and she’s probably getting cold, but I don’t have anything out on the beach with me.
I left my clothes in the car. I’ve long since dried off from the ocean so I pull my arm from her hold.
At first, she looks embarrassed, but that expression quickly disappears when I pull her fully against my side and wrap my arm around her.
She cuddles against my side, and I use my body to shield her as best I can from the breeze.
When the sun is nearly gone, we get up and I grab my surfboard. She starts to walk away on her own, but I quickly grab her hand with my free one and entwine our fingers. She looks down at our clasped hands with a tiny smile playing on her lips.
She looks up at me with those large hazel eyes reflecting the lights from the pier behind me and it feels like something shifts between us.
Back at my car, I quickly start the engine and hand her one of my spare sweatshirts. She tugs it on without protest and settles into the passenger seat.
I yank off my wetsuit leaving me in my swim briefs and quickly pull on my shorts and a t-shirt. Climbing in the driver’s seat, I smile over at Harlow.
She gives me a smile in return.
“You might have to remind me how to get to your house.”
“Okay,” she says.
I turn the radio up, but not so loud as to prevent conversation, but it doesn’t matter—she doesn’t say anything other than directions until we’re parked outside her house.
“You held my hand,” she says softly, toying with the sleeve of my sweatshirt that’s much too long on her.
“I did,” I say, not sure where she’s going with this.
“I thought…” She shakes her head and looks down at her lap. “I thought you liked Willa.”
“I do like Willa. But only as a friend,” I hasten to add the second part when I see her crestfallen expression. “You…” I trail off, trying to think about how I can possibly convey in words how I feel about her. “You, on the other hand, consume me.”
Hopefulness has her lifting her chin. “I do?”
“You have no idea,” I say with a defeated sigh. Trying to fight my feelings for this girl is futile.
“You like me? As more than a friend?”
“Yes,” I admit, not wanting to lie to her.
“I like you as more than a friend too,” she practically whispers.
I cup her cheek, rubbing my thumb against her soft skin. She relaxes into my touch, her lashes grazing the tops of her cheeks.
We’re practically nose to nose, both of us leaning over the center console.
Am I going to kiss her?
“Are you going to kiss me?” she asks, her voice breathless and soft.
“Do you want me to?” I slide my hand from her cheek to the back of her neck.
Her eyes flicker from my mouth to my eyes and back again. “Yes.”
I don’t hesitate.
It’s not my first kiss, but it feels like it is—it’s like I’ve forgotten everything I’ve learned in the past. Kissing her feels brand new.
I’m ruined, absolutely and pathetically ruined by her.
I know I’m young, but I’m not dumb—Harlow is different.
It’s never going to feel like this kissing someone else. So perfect. So right.
“Whoa,” she whispers, pulling away first.
I ache to go back in for another kiss, but I don’t want to push her.
“Yeah.” I struggle to regain my breath. “Whoa.”
She undoes her belt and then leans over, pressing a quick, surprising kiss to my mouth before getting out.
“Thanks for the ride.” She leans back in the car. “And the kiss.” She winks.
Fuck.
I’m so far gone for this girl and she’s not even my girlfriend.