Chapter 10 #2
I keep working, thankful for the distraction.
Orders come in and go out. I send glasses to be washed and polished.
The night air thickens. But my attention is never far from Silvie.
And judging by how she’s looking at me, hers is never far as well.
Silvie closes her eyes and dances to the music like she belongs.
Confident, and she knows exactly who she is.
She says she’s trying to find herself this summer.
I bet she doesn’t need to find herself. She’s been there all along, just waiting to discover herself.
She meets up with Mia and her Salty Pages co-owner, Juniper, and they all order waters and keep dancing.
Yeah, she’s different. Jonah’s right.
The bar finally empties just after one. We’ve got all the chairs up and the lights low. The waves crash outside, and I’m still running on high energy even though my body is tired in that good way from work. And, naturally, I can’t stop thinking about Silvie.
I set the last clean glass behind the bar and step out to lock up. Silvie is outside, sitting in one of the chairs, sandals on the ground beside her, her toes brushing a pattern in the sand. Her dress is wrinkled from dancing, and her hair’s wild, the flower gone.
She looks up when she sees me and smiles like she’s been here a while. “You’re finally done.”
“Been waiting?” I ask, surprised.
“Summer ditched me,” she says cheerfully. “She has an early yoga class in the morning and needs her sleep.”
I grin and lock the door, tucking the keys into my pocket. “That tracks. What about you? Don’t you need your sleep, too?”
“Yeah, except I’m used to not getting that much sleep.”
She yawns, despite her words, as she absently reaches for her sandals beside her and misses.
Without skipping a beat, I kneel in front of her to assist. I pick up one of the sandals and our eyes meet.
Her eyebrows are drawn together as if she doesn’t know what to think about me wanting to help her with her shoes.
That makes two of us.
Yet, I grip her delicate ankle in my grip and slide her shoe on. Once I set her foot back down, I pick up the other sandal. She offers me her other bare foot. I grab onto it, rubbing my thumb over the top of it, liking the softness of her smooth skin.
The air is charged between us, neither of us speaking, as I slip her other shoe on.
Once they’re both on, she shyly smiles as I rise to my feet. I offer her a hand, which she takes, and pull her to her feet.
“You good getting home?”
“I just thought we could walk together,” she says. “If that’s okay.”
It’s more than okay.
I tried to reason with myself most of the night to draw that invisible line in the sand between Silvie and me. But then she was out here waiting, and there’s something about the way she’s vulnerable with it, like this is new for her as well, that hits me right in the chest.
“I’d be happy to walk you home,” I say, voice rough.
“Okay,” she says. “Lead the way, hot bartender.”
I groan at her hot bartender reference and she giggles.
We fall in step together, easy, as if this isn’t new. The streets are quiet now, the sounds of the waves fading the further we get from the bar.
She walks close to me, not touching, but just enough for me to feel her arm swinging near mine. Every nerve in my body lights up at the hint of her presence.
“So, Cal,” she says. “Can I ask you something?”
“Depends,” I tease.
“Why did you say that I was wife material? And what did you mean by that?”
I stumble slightly but recover.
She waits and watches me as we walk for my answer.
I look at her and wonder why she can’t see it. “Silvie, you’re the whole package.”
Her pace slows and she listens.
I glance over and continue, “Your ex was an idiot. He never deserved you.”
She stares and blinks at me when I say that.
I stop walking, and she does too, turning to face me. The streetlight and the stars light up her face. Her eyes catch mine and linger.
That’s what hits me, so I continue.
“You listen better than anyone I’ve ever seen.
You notice people. And you make them feel validated.
You’re like a light in the dark. A rainbow at the end of a storm.
You make everyone you come in contact with smile.
Even Jonah Black, who is the town grump, by the way.
You charmed the man who couldn’t be charmed.
I don’t know how you did it, but you did. ”
Her breath catches.
“That’s a hell of a compliment,” she says quietly.
“I mean it. I’ve never met anyone like you. And that turd fumbled you bad. I hope you know that. You are wife material. And I hate that they hurt you the way that they did. But I’m glad you didn’t marry him. Because he could never be good enough for you.”
The air between us goes thick, and the energy feels charged. She steps closer. She’s close enough that I can smell the coconut from her shampoo or body wash.
My hands lift, and I put them around her, pulling her into me. My heart beats faster against my ribs. Her lips part in surprise. I could kiss her right now.
Then she exhales, shakes her head once, and gives me a small, sad smile. She wraps her arms around me and pulls me in for a hug. Her arms are tight around me, and mine pull her in just as tight. It practically knocks the air out of my lungs.
She presses her cheek to my chest, and I close my eyes, holding her just long enough to imagine holding her like this as if she were mine.
But she’s not.
“Thank you,” she murmurs.
“For what?” I ask softly.
“For seeing me,” she says. “And just being my friend. Being kind to me.”
I close my eyes, and she pulls back first. Her smile is soft and careful, and it’s as if she has no idea what she just did to me.
“Good night, Cal. See you tomorrow.”
I wave. “Night, Silvie.”
She walks inside Birdie’s, and I turn when I hear the lock click into place.
I don’t move and stand there longer than I should, my hands now shoved in my pockets. I know one thing for sure.
If kissing Silvie felt as amazing as it did to hold her, I’m in trouble.
I don’t think I can fight these feelings like I thought I could.