19. Lucy
I could kiss Sawyer forever.As long as “forever” was the new equivalent of seven weeks.
We had spent the better part of our night in the booth of Carter’s kissing, talking, ordering drinks, and kissing some more. We never did get around to ordering those lobster rolls. I was too enthralled with the man in front of me.
I had fallen down the rabbit hole. Whenever his cheeks tinged out of sheer embarrassment whenever he forgot his next train of thought, I found myself taking mental pictures of his face.
His face.
Boy, that is a face I’d never grow tired of. And in between sharing anecdotes from his college years, he’d pause every so often to give me a peck before carrying on.
I had officially entered Wonderland and was fully prepared to get lost in it this weekend.
After our additional drinks, ones we probably shouldn’t have had, I ended up straddling him on the leather seat.
Somewhere along the line, I had pulled the hem of his shirt up his torso. I tapped my fingers up and down his could-not-miss abs. I started playing an imaginary piano.
We were borderline indecent—and I didn’t hate it.
I did, however, become intolerant to the snickers and whispers from the other stragglers. It was an instant mood killer, and I could tell that Sawyer felt the same.
“Wanna walk this off?” I asked.
I slithered off from his lap and we stumbled out front. We passed his bike and walked across the street lined with other shacks turned into ice cream shops or gift stores towards the drawbridge.
The moonlight danced on the water and the boats down the way rocked rhythmically. And while we didn’t make a peep, I felt content beside Sawyer as we walked arm in arm.
I zoned in on the faint humming of the lampposts in passing, slightly letting my eyes shut.
“You good, Pretty Girl?”
The nickname that has led to heightened blood pressure in the past suddenly made me feel calm. Maybe it was the drunken cloud I was floating inside, I was unsure, but I basked in it. I was going to wear it as a badge of honor and take it for all that it was worth. And right now, it was worth everything.
“I am so good. Perfect, even.”
On the other side of the bridge, a short, two-story lighthouse lived near a kayak rental spot. A small pier was attached to the shop, one I had spent a couple of summers dangling my feet off the end of. I’d watch as Leanne and Tiffany went out around the river as I sat with the shop owner. Ruby. She was a sweet silver-haired lady who shared her gummy worms with me.
I remember feeling so inferior against the lighthouse as if it was the biggest thing I had ever come across. At eight years old, it was. Now, I didn’t feel so small—so scared—beside it.
The beacon wasn’t as bright as I remember, but it still did its job; it guided people back to shore. I made it back to shore.
Absorbed by all that is Sawyer and my time spent with him, it was inching towards three in the morning. I felt like I was in my early years of med school with these insomniac behaviors. But after our second lap around the seaport, I felt ourselves simultaneously sober up and crash all within five minutes of each other.
“I think we should head on back, we have a whole weekend ahead of us,” I said, hoarse with heavy eyes.
I slipped my hand into Sawyer’s back pocket as we made a sharp U-turn back toward the shops. He placed a kiss on top of my head with a fleeting chuckle escaping his mouth to follow.
“Thank you for tonight,” he said with a crack in his voice.
His stumbling had corrected itself over the thirty minutes of mindlessly walking, so I knew he wasn’t buzzed anymore. But the need to thank me was still lost on me. He felt gratitude for the night we’d spent together when whatever I felt was indescribable.
We were inches from Sawyer’s bike just as Carter came out the back door. I sucked a breath, one powerful enough to bring me back to reality. Shaking me from the daze of picturing many more dates like this one, possibly years from now. It was silly, truly. Wasn’t it?
Eh, I was not drunk enough anymore to consider any of this.
“Hey, there you two are.” His voice was like nails on a chalkboard at this hour.
Sawyer and I dragged our feet along the cobblestone. “Long night for you, I see,” Sawyer mumbled out.
“Yeah, had a couple of idiots making out until last call, and then I had to do a large tip out to Gina.” Sawyer cocked his head in Carter’s direction. “Alright, that came out wrong. You just left a hefty credit card tip after tonight, didn’t want her walking out with all that cash. Had to cut her a personal check.”
I scoffed and nudged Sawyer in the side, and he shrugged.
“Alright,” Carter huffed out, jingling his keys in his hands. “Let’s go, you two.” He walked over to Sawyer’s bike and started pushing it toward his truck. He flipped the tailgate down and nodded to Sawyer, motioning for a hand. On the count of three, they lifted the bike into the bed of the truck. “Where’re we heading?”
“The Hillside Cottages,” Sawyer muttered.
We both climbed into the cab and drove back through Downtown Rider after a night I’ll never forget.
We pulled in front of the cottage and I stumbled out of the truck. “Try and get some shut eye, okay? I’ll see you in the morning.” I nodded in response as Sawyer rubbed the side of my arm before placing a hoppy-tasting kiss on my lips.
Carter shut his headlights off as they backed out and down the driveway. Instantly, I felt agonizing emptiness inside of my chest being away from Sawyer.
Deep down, I knew that anything after this would never make sense. Falling for someone over a single weekend was too rom-com-esque for me. I didn’t do romance. I did reality, predictability. And the reality of it all was that this would never work. But we were smushed side by side, and the tips of our knees brushed up against one another. I felt at peace for the first time this summer. Being beside him felt right.