Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
YURI
Ican’t decide if I’ve started to adjust to the heat or if I’ve just given up and accepted that as long as I live on Palm Island, I’m going to be covered in a thin layer of sweat at all times.
I just got out of the damn shower ten minutes ago, but the second I step out onto my front porch I might as well have just skipped it.
It’s fine, sweat won’t kill me.
And if sweat could kill me, I’d have to put that death solidly in the middle of my “preferred ways to die” list. Could be much worse, so I think I can deal with it.
Besides, what’s my other option? Leaving Palm Island?
The thought creates a pit in my stomach.
Even though I haven’t talked to Cooper in a week, since he got weird and pissy with me after we came all over each other in my kitchen, I’m not ready to give up on this.
I don’t think he’s ready to either, even if he’s annoying the hell out of me by avoiding me.
There’s a perfect tiny pink and white spiral shell sitting on my porch railing.
I smile and put it in my pocket. It’s the sixth shell this week.
The morning after our fight I came outside to find a piece of paper with the words “I’m sorry” scrawled on it and half a clam shell on top of it, keeping it from getting blown away.
I’m assuming the rest of the shells have been his way of letting me know I’m on his mind?
Or apologizing again and again without bothering with more notes?
The thing is, I think we’re past the point where cute gestures are going to smooth everything over.
We need to do the scary thing and talk about how we’re both feeling.
Which is why we’re currently in some weird stalemate where Cooper leaves me little shells like he’s a crow or something and I give him awkward smiles when I see him but don’t actually say anything.
I guess we’re both waiting to see who’s going to get their shit together and figure out all the adult words for their feelings first.
The whir of a golf cart engine and the crunch of gravel approaches, and Boston comes around the corner right as I reach the road. He waves and then rolls to a stop.
“Hop in,” he offers.
“Thanks.” I plop myself down in the passenger seat and hang on tight.
Boston floors the pedal and the cart jolts forward, the engine groaning and whirring again as hard as it can, kicking up a bit of gravel. “You seen Lyric around this morning?”
My stomach does a somersault and I shake my head. “I just left the house.”
Boston glances over at me with a smirk that clearly says “that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him.”
I should have known he wouldn’t forget about that night I wore Cooper’s clothes to work. Why am I even trying to hide that we’re hooking up? Cooper said it was to give me a fresh start here, but I don’t want a fresh start. At least not in the way he meant it.
“We had a fight on poker night. I’ve only seen him in passing since then,” I admit.
“Because of the bachelor auction thing?” Boston almost sounds gleeful, like maybe that was his plan all along.
“What the fuck? Did you ask me to do that stupid auction just to piss Cooper off?”
He takes his eyes off the road to look at me again, his bushy eyebrows jumping up high on his forehead.
“Cooper? Damn, I didn’t realize you guys were getting real name serious.
What’s it like fighting with him? He’s gotta be the most laid-back guy I’ve ever met.
I can’t imagine him even raising his voice. ”
“He doesn’t. He just shuts down and leaves.” I bite my lip and shake my head. I shouldn’t be telling anyone all of Cooper’s personal shit like this. “That was a dick move.”
“All you had to say was ‘no.’ Why are you guys even hiding this shit? You all realize that no one cares who you fuck around here, right?”
I chuckle, but my stomach squirms and writhes again.
“It’s complicated,” I mutter, and Boston grunts, seeming to take that as a good enough answer.
“So, I take it you’re backing out of the bachelor auction?”
“Unless you can somehow convince Coop—Lyric to come and bid on me, I think I’ll end up being a pretty big letdown for whoever buys me.”
“Dude, when you say it like that it sounds creepy as hell, like we’re selling people.”
I snort a laugh. “You kind of are.”
“Okay, yeah, but not in a gross way.”
“Fair enough.”
He pulls to a stop in front of The Sand Bar and I hop off.
“Hey, if you’re up for it, I might actually have an idea. No clue if it’ll work, but, you know, if you need a Hail Mary to get your man off his ass.”
I worry my bottom lip between my teeth for a second, tempted to ask what his idea is. But, fuck it. I shrug. “Sure, why not?” I jerk my head in the direction of the café across the street. “If you’re still looking for him, there’s about a fifty-fifty shot he’ll be at Raven’s this time of day.”
“If he even knows what time of day it is,” Boston jokes, and we both chuckle.
LYRIC
It must be late morning because the café is starting to clear out.
I’ve been hogging the corner table near the front window since Raven unlocked the doors this morning, and my bladder is about ready to burst from all the tea I’ve drunk.
I’ll get up and take a piss eventually, once I’m happy with this chord progression.
I strum the same tune I’ve been working on all summer. It’s almost there, but it’s still not quite right, and I’m getting close to giving up on the damn thing for good. Some songs just aren’t meant to be, no matter how perfect they are in your head.
“Hey, pick a card.”
I look up to find Raven standing over me with his deck of tarot cards in his hand.
“Why are you so obsessed with me?” I joke, still strumming without missing a note. I’ve played this damn song so many times I could do it in my sleep, so why can’t I figure out what feels so off about it?
“I can’t take the mopey look on your face. You’re pure, uncomplicated sunshine—at least you’re supposed to be—so either pick a card so I can give you sage advice or just tell me why you’ve been hanging around here all week looking like someone kicked your puppy.”
“I don’t have a puppy.”
Raven gives me one of those narrow-eyed, annoyed looks that always tells me I’ve missed whatever point someone is trying to make.
He offers the cards again and I pick the first one off the top. I set it face down on the table in front of me without looking at it, glancing out the window again instead to see if I can spot Yuri on his way to work. I don’t see him, but maybe I missed him.
“It feels like he’s mad at me and I just don’t fucking get it.” I huff.
“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Raven pulls out the chair next to me and sits down. “So, you and Yuri are in a fight, and you feel like you’re supposed to be mad, not him.”
I chuckle. “Are you a psychic or a therapist?”
“Sometimes it feels like they’re kind of the same thing.” A crooked smile tugs at his ruby-red lips and he shakes his head a little to get his dark bangs out of his eyes. “You two have history.”
“How’d you know that?”
“You pulled the six of cups,” he says.
I frown and flip the card in front of me over. “Nope, it’s some dude with a sword.”
“In the spring,” he reminds me.
Oh yeah, I forgot about that.
“Yeah. I know I can be kind of an idiot sometimes, but I think this might be an all-time low for me. He’s going to leave again and it’s going to hurt like hell, just like it did the first time. And I knew it, I knew he wouldn’t stay. I knew how it would end and here I am anyway. What does he want?”
I don’t know if Raven is actually psychic or not, but I’m not expecting him to have any kind of answer, I’m just thinking out loud.
“Page of Swords.” He points to the card. “This card encourages you to challenge your assumptions and be open to new ideas about things. It also means there’s a need for clear communication in a romantic relationship.”
“So…” I stare at the card for another few seconds. “You’re saying I should pull my head out of my ass and talk to him?”
“That would be ideal, yeah.” Raven laughs.
“It’s a lot though, man. I don’t know how to talk about the shit that’s bothering me without dragging up the past.” I shake my head.
“So? Drag up the past, then.” He shrugs like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. Fuck, maybe it is.
The bell over the door chimes and Angel and Devil walk in, followed by Boston less than a second later.
“I think I left a tray of scones in the oven,” Raven mutters, shuffling the card back into the deck and fleeing through the curtain behind the counter.
Angel and Devil watch him go with matching looks of disappointment before they take a seat at the table closest to the counter.
Talk about a need for communication. Those three have been dancing around each other for years.
Raven’s probably not wrong though, I just don’t know even how to sort out what I want to say to Yuri.
“There you are. I’ve been driving around looking for you on the beaches all morning.” Boston plops down in the seat Raven just jumped out of.
“Shit, was I supposed to be somewhere?” I look at my wrist like I’m expecting there to be a watch there. Not sure how that would help me since I don’t remember anything I was supposed to do today, whatever time it is… also, no clue what day it even is.
“No, I just wanted to ask you a favor.”
“Oh, sure, what’s up?”
“The bachelor auction is next weekend, and I was thinking it would be cool to have live music. You know, set a fun vibe.”
My stomach sinks. The bachelor auction. Right.
“I don’t—”
“Come on, man, please? You’re not salty I didn’t ask you to be a bachelor, are you? Because I can definitely fit you in if you want to be auctioned too.”
I laugh and shake my head. “No, uh, it’s fine. Yeah, I’ll play.”
“You’re the best. Easy is gonna MC the whole thing, it should be fun.”
“Yeah, cool,” I mutter.