Chapter 18
JASMINE
The final two paintings for Paradise Key could have been called finished yesterday.
But since I still had time to make them as perfect as possible, I’d been touching them up for two hours already.
Inspiration wasn’t coming easy though. I stared at the canvas, waiting for the spot to jump out—the spot that’s missing a subtle hint that would set it off. But I got nothing.
The air smelled faintly of turpentine and saltwater drifting through the cracked window. My shoulders ached from hunching, and a thin film of sweat clung to the back of my neck.
“Hmm,” I said out loud, storing my brushes. “Maybe you’re really finished.”
Or maybe I was just hangry and apathetic.
I decided that I should whip up some lunch and look at them with fresh eyes afterward.
I pulled a container of leftover grilled chicken and a tub of Greek yogurt.
I’d whip up a tzatziki sauce and throw it on a pita.
My mouth was watering just thinking about it.
I dug out dill paste and lemon juice, then rummaged through the bottom drawer for the cucumber I’d been meaning to eat.
Under apples and oranges and sweet potatoes, I found the sad specimen well beyond its prime. Parts of it were virtually liquified.
“Eww.” I almost gagged, holding the oozing carcass as far out in front as I could all the way to the trash. After I dropped the mushy cucumber in the bin, I pulled the bag out and tied it in a knot. I started toward the door to take the trash out, but stopped to grab my car keys on the way.
Publix was three minutes away. Getting out of the house would do me some good. And I wanted the damn tzatziki.
On the way into the store, I remembered that I was also out of Kalamata olives, which would go great on this concoction I’d gotten myself so psyched up for. I made a beeline for the produce department and grabbed a cucumber and turned the corner to head down the back aisle to find the olives.
The chill of the meat section air prickled my damp skin.
I was reading signs along the tops of the aisles to my left, so I didn’t notice the man in the meat section to my right until I nearly bumped into him.
I swerved just in time, and he was busy comparing two trays of steaks so he didn’t notice me almost running into him.
But by then I had gotten a good enough look at his profile to not believe my eyes.
“Kai?”
He looked up and I realized immediately. Of course it wasn’t Kai. Kai was out on a charter. “Reef,” he said with a pearly grin.
“Yeah, Reef. Sorry,” I shifted nervously. “I guess Kai was on my mind, even though I knew he was at work.” I bit my lip to stop me from saying anything even dumber.
“That’s what you buy when Kai’s on your mind?” He asked, eyeing the cucumber I held in a death grip with a suggestive smirk.
I waved it at him. “I’m making tzatziki.”
“You don’t owe me an explanation,” he chuckled. “And don’t worry, I don’t judge.”
Heat rose to my cheeks, but I was determined not to let him get the better of me. “You can judge my tzatziki all you want,” I snipped. “It’s fabulous.” I rolled my eyes at myself, wondering if the produce aisle sold muzzles.
“I don’t doubt that,” Reef replied, sounding slightly flirtatious.
My eyes narrowed but his stayed playful, even while staring intently for a few seconds that felt like years. My face flushed and my heart raced. Not from attraction, but from recognition—the kind of awareness you feel when someone holds the same dangerous secret you do.
“Angler’s Reef, huh?” I finally blurted.
Reef’s brow creased, confused, but he said nothing.
“I was surprised that you remembered that’s where my parents’ house is,” I continued.
“Especially since I don’t recall ever telling you that, the morning we met in the kitchen at Kai’s place. Or anytime thereafter.”
“Is that right?” he said, cool as the cucumber I held for dear life.
“That’s right,” I quipped. “I’m pretty sure I never mentioned that.”
“Hmm.” His mouth twisted to one side, forehead crinkling as he pretended to think about it. “Well, I guess you must have at some point. Otherwise how would I have known?”
“Gee. I don’t know,” I said, now unable to control my irritation. “Maybe I did tell you some other time.” I stared menacingly but he looked like he was on the verge of laughter. I was ready to strangle him.
“Well it doesn’t really matter, does it?” He held my gaze, still looking amused. I knew that he knew, and he knew that I knew, and we were both daring the other to say it.
Shifting to a fake-nice tone, I said, “No, it doesn’t really matter. Memories can be fuzzy. That’s totally normal.”
“Alright, well, good.” He waited, probably hoping I’d leave. I stared him down instead. “Have fun with that,” he said while motioning his chin toward the vegetable I was strangling.
Reef went about studying the two packs of steaks, pretending like I wasn’t there. I almost left, but I was mad. All rationality left me before I blurted, “You remember don’t you?”
He looked up innocently. “Where your parents’ house is? Um, yeah, we established that.”
Looking at me like I was delusional, gaslighting the fuck out of me, that asshole was going to make me say it. I was calm, but cold. “You remember when I told you.”
A smug smile tugged at his lips. “You remember when you told me.”
“Fuck!” I shouted as loud as one can in a whisper, shaking the cucumber between us.
Reef’s wide eyes, almost identical to Kai’s, grew serious. “Calm down, this is a small town,” he scolded, his tone low but firm.
“I don’t need you to remind me how fucking small Smugglers Cove is, Reef. I discovered that in a big way.” I drew an arc in the air with the cucumber.
“Will you put that thing down and chill the fuck out,” Reef said, hushed but urgent, reaching for my wrist. “Seriously,” he said sternly, pushing my arm down to my side.
He was right. The last thing I wanted was to make a scene in the only place in town you’re likely to see half the people you know in any given moment. “Sorry.”
“Let’s go outside and talk.” He put the steaks back in the case and waved for me to follow.
His cool confidence needled my last nerve. I stared at the cucumber for a second before chucking it into the cooler beside the ribeyes and trotted to catch up. Once we were outside, he walked me over to a bench facing the parking lot and held out his hand waiting for me to sit.
I crossed my arms in front of me and let out a huff. “Summer after my junior year. You said summer, the other night, just before you said Angler’s Reef.”
“Sorry, I was messing with you.”
“Asshole. So you’ve known all along?” I said, genuinely annoyed.
“So have you!” He shot back.
I wasn’t sure how much truth I wanted to share. It was embarrassing, to put it mildly. “Not exactly all along. I only knew when I met you—again—in Kai’s kitchen.”
“So wait, you didn’t remember hooking up with me, and by some strange coincidence you ended up in bed with my twin brother?” He laughed to himself. “I guess you have a type.”
I hadn’t even thought of that scenario. I liked it much better than the truth since it absolved me of both confusing Kai for him and of hiding it from his brother.
I was preparing myself to go along with that narrative when I saw it in Reef’s eyes—the other, more likely possibility dawning on him.
“Or… oh shit.” His grin got so wide his eyes were just slits.
“You thought Kai was me that night you went home with him.” He laughed louder than he should have. I was mortified. Humiliated.
“It was years ago, and we were drunk,” I stammered. “Really drunk.”
His smile faded a touch, an acquiescence to the truth.
For some reason I felt the need to explain myself further.
Even though it was the last conversation I wanted to have, I couldn’t stop myself from trying to talk my way out of it.
“I remembered you,” I said, adding, “vaguely,” to minimize the ego boost. “But it was wasn’t a huge surprise that you didn’t remember me.
Of course once I knew that Kai wasn’t you, it made a lot more sense.
But by then I’d already been held hostage with your brother. ”
“He always has to outdo me,” Reef said, totally deadpan.
I burst out laughing. “It was a pretty epic first date.” I paused, expecting Reef to say something, but he just waited for me to go on.
“Kai and I really did hit it off from the start. Honestly, that’s why I gave him a pass for not remembering our drunken one night stand, which of course wasn’t him after all.
” I was talking in circles, and felt a sudden impulse to run out into traffic on US1.
Maybe my brain thought it was the only way to stop my mouth.
It didn’t help that Reef was completely fucking mute.
I wrung my hands together in my lap, swallowing hard.
“When it seemed like you didn’t remember, it was easier just to pretend like it didn’t happen. ”
“Well, I’m glad you hit it off,” Reef said with a genuine smile. “You guys seem really great for each other.”
“Thank you,” I said, surprised. “That’s very mature of you.”
“Happens despite my efforts to avoid it.” His smile faded as he continued. “But poking the bear to see if you remembered, that wasn’t very mature. In fact, it was pretty shitty. I’m sorry.”
As much as I appreciated the apology, it gave me a sick feeling that this secret would always be out there, and I would always be at his mercy to keep it. “That can never happen again.” I was terrified it was going to ruin my relationship with Kai, and I was pretty sure it showed.
Reef’s expression softened. “Listen, don’t stress.
” He put his arm around me in a completely platonic gesture, but I tensed up immediately.
His arm slinked from my shoulders and he placed his hand on my knee.
“I won’t tell if you don’t. But you’ve got to relax.
Don’t make it into something worse than it really is. ”
How was I supposed to relax? I had fucked my boyfriend’s twin brother, which might not be worse than thinking my boyfriend was his twin the first time I fucked him. “Easy for you to say.”
“Listen, the last thing I’d ever want is to hurt my brother. Don’t worry about this ghost from your past. I promise it won’t come back to haunt you.”
“Good. Thanks.” My shoulders relaxed as I let out a long breath.
“Don’t dwell on this, Jasmine. We have far bigger fish to fry right now.”
The tension returned to my neck and throat. I’d gotten used to the comfort of denial. “Is anything happening with that? Seems like crickets all around.”
“That’s a good thing.”
He seemed to be evading my questions, which made me think he was hiding something. “Right, but, eventually something’s got to give. Right?” I waited.
“We can’t predict the future. We just have to deal with it as it comes,” he said, vaguely reassuring.
Or you can overthink it to the point of obsession and spiral, I thought. To each their own. “Keep on living in the moment, even when the moments get weirder and weirder.”
He lifted his fist, bicep flexing. “Chin up, muscle forward.”
The banter was no longer entertaining. I felt sick to my stomach. “I gotta go,” I said, and bolted off the bench.