8. Daisy
8
Daisy
I glance at my duffel bag sitting behind the counter at Joe’s. Jesse is supposed to be here soon to take me to Greenport, an idea he had after the dinner at his dad’s went south last week. I said yes at the time, because who wouldn’t say yes to a week’s free vacation on the beach? But during the past few days, I’ve been wondering if I should cancel. Ever since I found out that Weston is Jesse’s dad, I’ve been rethinking our relationship. The fact that he’s the son of the guy I’ve been crushing on for the past year feels weird. And when I think of the way he behaved at dinner last week… I don’t know. It’s hard to see Jesse in the same way.
The door to Joe’s swings open, and two of my regulars step inside. Actually, they’re more like friends now. Violet and Kyle run a restoration company that specializes in historical houses, and they live in the neighborhood. I got to know them last year when they started coming to Joe’s and needed a little nudge to get together. They’re an unlikely pair—she’s around my age and he’s in his forties—but they’re perfect together. Just goes to show that age doesn’t really matter if you’re a good match.
“Hi,” Violet says, smiling as she approaches the counter.
“Hey, guys. The usual?”
She nods, running a hand through her blond hair. Kyle steps up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.
“Make hers a single shot,” he tells me. “She’s already had two today.”
“Hey,” Violet protests, but he squeezes her and she relents. “Fine. A single shot.” She lifts her gaze to the ceiling. “Like, what even is the point?”
I laugh as I go to the espresso machine. “He drinks decaf,” I point out, referring to Kyle’s usual order of a decaf cappuccino.
Violet wrinkles her nose. “I know, and I’ll never understand it.”
Kyle strokes his beard, looking at his girlfriend with love. “You don’t need to understand it. Just trust me when I say you don’t want to see me on caffeine.”
She gazes up at him, rising on her toes to press her lips to his. I focus on the coffee, attempting to ignore them, but it’s hard when they’re like this. My heart tightens as I watch him brush a few strands of hair from her eyes and press his lips to her forehead. He adores her—it was clear from the minute I saw them together last year—and every time I see him be sweet with her, my chest hollows with longing. I want someone to be sweet with me like that. I want a man to look at me the way Kyle looks at Violet, to treat me like I’m the best thing to ever happen to him.
I hand over the coffees and watch Violet and Kyle leave, thinking about Jesse. I have a boyfriend, yet here I am acting like I’ve got no one. Maybe I should go to Greenport with him, regardless of my reservations. In fact, maybe getting away—from Joe’s, from Weston’s house—is exactly what we need. It will give me a chance to figure out how I feel about him, without his dad around. I know Weston said I was welcome at his house, but I feel uncomfortable there. It’s not only the tension between him and Jess, it’s the way I keep thinking of Weston, sitting alone in the living room, playing with the Nikon. The way my chest ached at the sight of him. I don’t want to feel that again.
Besides, some time away at the beach will be good for me. I haven’t taken a proper vacation in years. It’s no wonder I’ve been feeling stuck. A little sun, sand, surf—and maybe sex—could be exactly what the doctor ordered. It’s not like I have to marry Jesse, for Christ’s sake. We could just go and have a fun week. Why not?
Celine pushes through the door to cover my shift, clearly thrilled to be working when the weather is far more suited for an afternoon by the pool. I haul my duffel bag onto my shoulder as she picks up a rag to wipe the counter.
“Thanks, Celine. See you in a week.”
Her mouth pulls into a sardonic smile. “Have a blast. I’m not jealous at all .” She rolls her eyes, turning back to the counter with a huff.
I snort a laugh as I step out onto the hot street. Summer in New York can be unbearable, and I’m relieved to get a break from the suffocating heat of the city. Now that I’ve made up my mind, excitement ripples through me at the idea of spending the week at the beach. I could use some peace and quiet. Denise has been in rare form the past few days, working from home so I never get a moment to myself, and I need to not be around her right now.
I glance along Fruit Street looking for Jess. I’m not entirely sure how we’re getting to Greenport—it’s two hours away, in the North Fork of Long Island—but he said he’d organize a ride for us. Maybe he’s hired a car, or—
My thoughts grind to a halt when I hear the obnoxiously loud rumble of a modified car, and a moment later, the Dodge Challenger belonging to Jess’s friend Rex rolls into view.
Oh, God. Did he really borrow Rex’s car to drive us there?
My stomach bottoms out when the driver’s-side window rolls down, and I find myself wishing Jesse had borrowed the car from his friend.
“Hey, hey, pretty lady,” Rex drawls, shooting me a cocky grin. “Heard you need a ride.”
I grind my teeth. I’ve met Rex several times, and he is the absolute epitome of everything I hate about guys his age: loud, arrogant, immature, and always ready to party. I don’t know why Jess is friends with him, but it seems a little too early in the relationship to question his friendships.
Jesse leans across from the passenger side to wave out Rex’s window. “Hey, babe. Rex is giving us a ride.”
I pause for a second, considering my options. Do I really want to spend the next two hours in the car with Rex? No. But do I want to give up my week at the beach? Jess said the place we’re staying is on the water, and I’m looking forward to sitting back with a book and forgetting about real life for a while.
Besides, do I want to walk back into Joe’s and tell Celine I’m not going after all? More to the point: do I want to go home and deal with Denise tonight?
Hell no.
I sigh. I guess if Rex is only giving us a ride, that’s not so bad.
With a tight-lipped smile, I stuff my duffel into the trunk beside two huge boxes of beer, then squeeze behind Jesse’s seat into the cramped back of the car.
“Thanks, man,” Jess says to Rex, popping the top off a bottle of beer. “You’re a good friend.”
Rex nods. “I wouldn’t do this for just anyone.” He pulls out into the street, turning the stereo up. Limp Bizkit blares from the speakers, and I slump against the backseat with a sigh, counting the minutes until the car ride is over.
Jess spends most of the ride drinking beer and laughing with Rex, who, thankfully, is not drinking. It’s nice to see Jess relaxing, especially after how tense he’s been around his dad, and it’s no surprise when we have to stop halfway for him to pee. Rex pulls off the Long Island Expressway to find a gas station, while we wait in the car.
“I’m worried about him,” Rex murmurs out of nowhere, watching through the front windshield as Jess walks to the restroom.
“Really?” I ask. “Why?”
Rex lifts a shoulder. “I think he parties too hard.” He glances at me over his shoulder, his brow dipping with an unfamiliar expression. It takes me a moment to realize it’s concern, and my mouth pops open in surprise.
Rex is worried about Jess partying too hard? Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
“It was fun for a while,” he adds, heaving a weary exhale. “I want to be there for him, but… fuck, I don’t want to lose my job.”
I blink in shock, drawing breath to respond, when Jess returns to the car. The concern vanishes from Rex’s face, morphing back into that cocky grin as he starts the engine.
“Ready, bro?” he asks, and Jess nods.
We peel out onto the highway again with Limp Bizkit blasting, as if the conversation never happened, and I stare out the window, frowning as I consider Rex’s words. They’re a little ironic coming from him, but I push them from my mind as I watch the scenery roll by.
My legs are cramping by the time we finally pull up at the place we’re staying, and it really is on the beach; a huge house with weathered cedar siding, bathed in the golden light of the evening sun. I don’t know how Jess can afford this place—or why he got somewhere so huge—but I’m not complaining. This is the beach house of my dreams.
I unfurl myself from the backseat and stretch my stiff legs. Rex and Jesse spent the rest of the drive singing along to the mind-numbing lyrics of Limp Bizkit as if I wasn’t even there, which was incredibly annoying, especially after Rex seemed to transform into a different person while Jess was in the restroom. Why did he return to his usual obnoxious self the moment Jess appeared again? And why did he say—
Wait, is that a pool? It is! To the side of the house, behind a glass fence, I notice a freaking swimming pool. Even with the beach this close! Okay, that’s awesome. Any irritation I feel melts away at the thought of relaxing here for the next week, and I turn to Rex with a genuine smile.
“Thanks for the ride, Rex.” A couple hours in his company was a small price to pay for this vacation.
“You’re welcome.” He rakes a hand through his auburn hair. “Will we see you tonight?”
I glance at Jesse in confusion. His gaze lingers on me for a moment, then swings to Rex.
“Nah. Maybe tomorrow night.”
Rex nods, his gaze cutting to me. There’s something in his expression I can’t quite read, like what I saw at the gas station, then he slips back into the car. The Challenger roars away, and I follow Jesse up the front path, relieved. He sets our bags down and fumbles in his pocket for the keys.
“Thanks for putting up with him,” he murmurs. “I know he’s a lot.”
He’s confusing, that’s for sure .
“No problem,” I say, eying the swimming pool again. “What’s happening tomorrow?”
“The guys are having a few drinks.”
I turn to him. “The guys?” I knew Rex was up here, but I figured he might be with his family or something.
“Yeah. They’re in New Suffolk for the week. That’s why I thought I’d bring you up.”
Huh. Here I was thinking this was Jesse’s idea of a romantic getaway, but clearly I was wrong. Instead, he wanted to find a way to fit me in with his friends.
I think again of how I wasn’t going to come, and glance back down the driveway. Guess I’m stuck here now.
Still, at least we’ve got our own place, and let’s face it, staying here won’t be a hardship. He can see the boys whenever he wants, and I can sit by the pool with my book. A thrill runs up my spine at the thought, because I literally cannot remember the last time I did that. If ever.
Jess finds the key on his keychain and slides it into the lock. He jiggles it left, right, left again, and the door pops open. “It sticks a bit with the salt air,” he explains, carrying our bags into the foyer.
“Have you been here before?” I ask, and he gives me an odd look.
“This is our place.”
“Yours?”
He nods. “Well, it belongs to my parents. They got it when I was a kid, but dad is the only one who comes here now.”
Oh.
I glance around, seeing the house anew with this knowledge. This isn’t some random Airbnb he found online—I almost laugh at the thought now, because no way could he afford this—it’s his family’s. Now, his dad’s. This is Weston’s beach house.
So much for escaping him .
I sigh, wandering into the spacious entry hall that leads to a large, open-concept kitchen, dining room, and living room with stained oak floors and white-washed pine walls, reaching to a high vaulted ceiling that frames a view of the undulating sand dunes and water beyond. A huge beige linen sectional sofa dominates the space, soaking up the sea views, with a battered wooden coffee table in the center. The kitchen boasts white wooden cabinetry, and a large center island like the one at Weston’s house on Fruit Street. Padded bamboo stools nestle under it and rattan light fixtures hang from the ceiling above. Everything feels fresh and bright and beautiful. There’s a hallway to my right and one to my left, as well as stairs leading to some sort of basement. I turn back to Jesse in shock.
“How many bedrooms does this place have?”
“Six.”
Six . Six bedrooms in a freaking beach house.
“And bathrooms?” I ask.
“Uh… three. No—four. There’s one downstairs.”
Jesus. This is insane. I think I might have underestimated just how wealthy Weston is. What did he say he did again, advertising? I need a career change, pronto.
“It’s… very nice,” I say inadequately, and Jesse shrugs again. I guess when you grow up with these things, they don’t seem like such a big deal.
“Come on, I’ll show you to my room.”
I hesitate. Shit, I didn’t think this part through. Do I want to stay in his room? I mean, I should, right? It’d be weird if I didn’t, wouldn’t it? But what if I would rather…
“Are you coming?”
I clear my throat, scuttling after him before I lose him in this gigantic house. We round a corner and head along a hall with several doors leading off, and Jess shows me into a large, airy room with a view of the sea. I’m not entirely sure if I’m comfortable staying in his bed, but that view is to die for.
He dumps the bags on the floor and turns to me with a grin. The beer has made him loose and relaxed, and as he takes me into his arms, I let myself soften against him. Now that we’re alone, and he finally seems to be at ease, I decide to broach the subject I’ve been wondering about for so long.
“Jess… why do you hate your dad so much?”
His brows slash together. “Seriously? You want to talk about that now? When we’ve come all this way to get away from him?”
I sigh. I guess he has a point there.
“No, sorry.” I try to shove down the frustration rising inside me. “Forget I said anything.”
He frowns at me for a beat longer, then releases his breath slowly, letting that grin return. “I want to focus on being here with you,” he says, taking my hand and leading me to the bed. “Alone.” When his gaze roves over me with intent, a rock forms in my gut.
Come on , I berate myself, shaking it off. You’re in the perfect location with a cute guy. Lighten up.
I let him tug me down onto the mattress and meet his lips with mine. He’s not a bad kisser, although it’d been so long before Jess that I can hardly compare. And I’m not sure I’ve ever been kissed properly, by someone who knows what they’re doing.
But it’s probably me. I’m so in my head about this, and I don’t know why. Maybe because I’ve waited too long. I mean, I’m twenty-five and so inexperienced it’s embarrassing. Yes, I’ve made out with guys. Yes, I’ve had a few guys grope around, but it’s been so unbelievably awkward and underwhelming that I’ve hardly been begging for more. And now, when I finally have the chance to move past that, I’m freezing up.
Jesse’s hands roam my back as his tongue darts in and out of my mouth. I try to match his enthusiasm, but he tastes like beer and my neck is at a weird angle. I’m tired from work and the car ride, and, if I’m being completely honest, I just wish he’d stop.
I draw away with an awkward laugh, but Jesse isn’t amused.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Liar . “I just… I’m tired.”
He blows out a heavy, irritated breath. “Come on. We finally get the chance to do this, and now you’re tired?”
I swallow. “It’s been a long day.” I rub my face as guilt weaves through me. He’s been very patient; some guys barely last a week. What is wrong with me? Why don’t I want to do this with him yet? We’ve never had a more perfect opportunity than right now, but the thought of sleeping with him makes me feel anxious more than anything. Is it just nerves, or something more?
I like him, at least I think I do.
But maybe that’s the problem. I only like him. And I really want to feel more, especially when it comes to having sex, but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s unrealistic.
“I—” A sound from somewhere in the house makes me stop. “What was that?”
Jess gives a sullen shrug. It reminds me of the way he acts with his dad, and irritation flares in my chest. With a roll of my eyes, I push to my feet and go to investigate. It was probably nothing, but I’m desperate for a moment to myself. I wander toward the kitchen, planning to get a glass of water and stare out at the sea as I get my thoughts in order, but when I round the corner, I crash into a solid wall of man. Strong hands steady me, and I glance up into Weston’s ocean-blue eyes, my heart catapulting into my throat.
“Daisy?” Weston blinks down at me in surprise. “What…” He loosens his grip on my arms, stepping back, and my skin burns from his touch.
I take a deep breath to steady my runaway heart. “Jesse brought me here. We got a ride with Rex.”
“Ah.” Weston nods, scrubbing his palm over his stubbly chin. He’s in his navy suit, tie loosened around his neck, eyes tired from what I assume has been a long day. “Well, that backfired didn’t it?”
“What?”
He sighs, gesturing to his bags at the front door. “I took a few vacation days from work. Thought I’d come up here to give you guys space at home. I didn’t realize…”
“Oh.” I breathe out a laugh. “Didn’t Jess tell you we were coming?” Weston shakes his head, and I frown. How rude of Jesse to not even tell his dad that A) we’re using his beach house and B) he wouldn’t be home for a week.
There’s a sound behind me, and I turn to see Jess round the corner with a thunderous expression aimed at his father. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“ Jess .” I shoot him a shocked look. Honestly, the entitlement with this one.
“It’s fine.” Weston heaves a sigh. “I’ll go.”
“No.”
I whip back to Weston before I even realize I’ve said it. Both he and Jess say “What?” at the same time, and it would be comical if not for the tension between them.
“I mean… it’s your house, Weston. We can’t kick you out after you drove two hours to be here because you felt as though you couldn’t be in your own home in the city.”
I glance at Jesse, who has his arms folded across his chest as he glowers at me, and I can’t explain why, but suddenly I feel the need to make sure Weston stays. The relief at seeing him is palpable, and if having Weston here means I get to delay things with Jesse for a bit, then I’m taking that opportunity.
Even if I can’t understand why I need it so badly.
I look back at Weston. “We’re all adults. The weather is beautiful. You shouldn’t miss out on that because of us. This is a huge house; I’m sure we can stay out of each other’s way.”
Weston glances between me and Jess, and for a second I think he’s going to insist on leaving again, but after a moment of studying my face, he nods.
“Okay. I’ll stay.”
My shoulders sag with relief, and I send him a grateful smile.
Behind me, Jesse throws his hands up and turns back down the hall. “Fucking great.”