Chapter 17 #2
“How’s it going at the bed-and-breakfast? It’s a really nice place that Wendy and her family have, right?”
“Yeah, it is quite pleasing.” He smiles a wide smile and runs his fingers through his blond hair. His eyes are twinkling. “Very comfortable and relaxing.”
“The bed’s that good, huh?”
“Yeah, something like that.”
He offers me a wink, and I nod knowingly. These women have gotten their hooks into all of us.
“Well, I’m out of here. Got to go and meet Mia. Enjoy the afternoon. It’s a beautiful day.”
I head out of Cocktails the island is small. / A treasure awaits somewhere rocky. / Don’t trip, or you’ll fall.” I stop talking. “Gold, silver, bounty aplenty. Do your very best to come and find me.”
“Where’s the clue there?”
“Don’t trip, or you’ll fall,” I say.
“What does that mean?”
“Where are people constantly tripping on the island?”
“I don’t know.” She shakes her head. “Oh, wait. Down by the pier, where the rocks are. Tourists love to climb on them, and they always end up slipping. That’s why we locals call it Slippery Rock Beach.”
“Exactly. Tourists are always going down the pier to the beach and tripping over the rocks. They don’t see the moss on them at first.”
“You think that’s it?”
“All I know is that is what my brain is telling me. We’re here, we’re at the beach. We could go and check now.”
“Shoot, do you think I’m going to find a bucket of gold right now?”
“No. There were several clue numbers on the map. I think there are going to be several clues until we get to the end.”
“Then we’ll find a bucket of gold?” she asks hopefully.
“Maybe. I don’t know who set this up.” I very much doubt it, but I don’t want to burst her bubble.
She looks at me through narrowed eyes and grabs my hand. “Lukey, you would tell me if it was you, right?”
“What do you mean?” My heart pounds as she traces her fingers across my palm.
“Did you create this treasure map so that we could spend more time together, so that we could practice being a couple? Because you knew I was upset that you didn’t come early, like you were supposed to.”
“I wish I could say that I did”—I pause—“but I didn’t.”
She takes a step forward, and sand from her toes brushes onto my legs. She reaches up and touches the side of my face. I smell coconut from the suntan lotion on her skin and see remnants of salt on her body. She’s got a golden glow from her time in the sun and rosy-pink cheeks. She looks beautiful.
“You know I can tell if you’re lying, right?” She leans forward. Her lips graze against mine as she studies my eyes. “Tell me again.”
“Tell you what?” I say, barely breathing.
“Did you create the treasure maps?”
“I didn’t,” I say.
She steps back and frowns. “I can’t tell if you’re telling the truth or not.”
“I thought you could always tell.”
“I thought I could always tell as well, but maybe I’m losing my touch.”
“I don’t think you are.”
I grab her around the waist and pull her into me. She looks around quickly.
“Who’s here?”
“What do you mean, who is here?”
“I just assumed that—”
“You just assumed what?” I ask as my hand slides down the curve of her waist, then her hip to her ass.
I squeeze gently, and she moans and presses herself against me.
“I just assumed that this sort of touch was reserved for when people were around.”
“Maybe we should make sure that we do it all the time because we don’t know when people will be around. Someone could be spying on us right now,” I say, grinning at her.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” She looks around quickly. “Rex is not that crazy, is he?”
“I don’t know. I was speaking to Preston earlier, and he said that Rex has had a lot of anxious, frustrated-sounding phone calls. I don’t know what he might do, knowing that he lost you to me.”
“He didn’t lose me,” she says sharply. “He never had me, and I’m not yours. Remember?”
“I know, but he doesn’t know that. Men always want what they can’t have. He probably assumed you still wanted him,” I say, though my heart is pounding.
I want her to be mine, and I want her to want to be mine. Fuck. I’m so in love with Mia. I’ve always been deeply, endlessly in love with Mia, and this has all been a mistake.
I should not have come back to Coconut Beach for this wedding.
I should not have been in a fake relationship with her, nor should I have agreed to share a hotel room with her.
All the feelings that I’ve held down for so long are rising in me like lava in a volcano that’s about to erupt.
I feel hot, anxious, and the way I felt when I was eighteen, and she told me she was going to prom with William Setta, a guy from the tennis team who was a nice guy, but he wasn’t me.
And if he hadn’t asked her, she would’ve gone with me because we were going to go as friends.
I can still remember seeing her in her pink gown, twirling so happily as she laughed.
Then he gave her a corsage, and she thanked him by giving him a kiss on the cheek, and his eyes lit up because he thought she would fuck him that night.
But there was no way I was going to let that happen, even if I was just the third wheel on their last-minute date.
It stung then to know she would never be mine, and it stings now because my feelings are deeper and more invested than ever.
When I finally get off the island again, I will have to stay away for a much longer time.
I’ll have to stay away until she finds someone she loves, until she finds someone she wants to give her life to.
I just hope I can survive through the pain that will awaken in me.
“Hey, Luke,” she says, cupping my cheek. “Shall we go and check by the pier? What are we looking for?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “I guess another postcard, but it would get wet. I think we’ll know it when we see it.” I grab her hand and squeeze. “Don’t you?”
“I guess so,” she says, nodding slowly, her expression changing as she gazes over at me.
I’m really glad she can’t actually read my mind. I’m really glad that she doesn’t know I love her and that this is beginning to feel real to me. I’m really glad that she doesn’t know this fake summer romance is burning me up inside because I don’t want it to be fake.
We walk down toward the pier, and we both stop when we notice a bunch of surfers in the water.
“Wow, they’re good,” she says, admiring them, and I wonder if she’s talking about their skill at surfing or if she’s admiring their bodies or how she wants to be with them.
“You really love surfers, don’t you?”
“They’re okay,” she says, looking at me. “They’re not the be-all and end-all of my world.”
“Why don’t you know how to surf, Mia? I’ve always wondered that.”
“I’m scared of sharks. I’m definitely not going that far out in the water. The sharks abound.”
“I know,” I say, “but you don’t have to be scared. You shouldn’t live your life in fear.”
“I know, and I try not to. I mean, it’s hard sometimes, right?”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding, because I, more than anyone, know how hard it is to be open and honest about everything. I’ve never told Mia that I love her because I was afraid that once she knew, our relationship would be forever changed, and I wasn’t willing to risk that. Not at all.
Though a part of me wonders if I already have.