Chapter 18
Biology Class
Day 28
“Are you doing anything this weekend?” I asked Dax as the class sat waiting for the exciting documentary on genetics to load.
“That depends. Are you asking me out?”
I reared back. “No.”
“Oh. Then I’m not doing anything.”
I pushed his laughing body away from mine.
“If I licked my finger and rubbed it against your tattoo, would it smudge?” Cat asked me as she and Jane sat in a corner booth the next day at the cafe. She watched me, her blonde ponytail swishing back and forth, as she waited for her opportunity to pounce.
I scoffed. “Of course not.” I motioned toward her food. “Your pancakes are hot. You’d better stuff your face and stop asking questions.”
She threw a sugar packet at me. “I gave blood with you once in high school, and there is no way you would willingly hand your arm over to a guy with a needle.”
“Fess up,” Jane said, leaning forward, the colors on her blue dress making her bright eyes pop. “We’ll get it out of you eventually.”
I blew out a sigh and glanced in every direction before leaning closer to my old friends.
“Okay, fine. It’s fake.”
“Obviously,” Cat said, grabbing my arm and pulling me down into their booth. “The breakfast rush is over. You can sit for a minute, right?”
I glanced around and caught Jean’s eye, motioning to the table and silently pleading with her to tell me I had to get back to work. But my horrible manager only smiled and gave me a thumbs up.
Resigned to my fate, I fortified myself with a bite of Cat’s white-chocolate-macadamia-nut pancakes and told them about the tattoo, downplaying everything—for their sake and mine. Dax was a flirt and a tease. I had known that about him already, but nothing mattered when he was such a closed book, which was another thought I had while staring at my ceiling late into the night. I did think of him as a friend, but I really didn’t know him any better now than I had back in high school. And that thought was actually quite depressing.
“Dax showed up to volleyball yesterday. He has NEVER played with us before. And the other night—apparently the night of the tattoo—his shop was closed up early. Lights off.” Cat folded her arms triumphantly. “You like him. And by all accounts, he likes you right back. He likes the crap out of you.”
“I’m sorry, are we back in high school?” I deflected, distracting them from my heated cheeks. “Do we have Spanish class after lunch? Do you need my notes?”
Jane laughed, but Cat brushed my comments aside, proving that my childhood friend knew me well. “What are you going to do about this?”
I pressed on a smile. “I’m only here for three more weeks. I’m going to do my hours and go back to Tennessee. I can’t stay. So I can’t like him. The end.”
“I don’t think it works like that,” Jane said softly, her brown hair curled at the edges.
Thankfully, we were spared an answer when a group of tourists walked into the cafe, and Jean was nowhere in sight.
The rest of the morning passed uneventfully. A few of the regulars commented on my tattoo. I had spent twenty minutes after my shower this morning scrubbing the remains off with coconut oil and pressing a new one on in its place. It would be a thousand times worse if people found out it was a stick on, but ultimately, I was surprised at how much my tattoo didn’t affect anyone. Some made me lift my sleeve to show them the whole thing, some glanced away from it quickly, and some seemed curious only because it was something new about me. With the exception of Larry, who said I’d been hanging out with the mechanic for too long, nobody really seemed to care.
I felt the shift in the air the second Dax walked in. I knew it was him before I turned around to look. He sat in his usual booth along the front side of the restaurant and chatted easily with Jean as she walked by. By now, everyone at the cafe knew that Dax was my customer, no matter where he chose to sit. I usually made him wait a few minutes, but it seemed like each day those minutes got less and less. When I couldn’t stand it any longer, I met him at his table with the coffee pot in my hands.
“It almost seems like you can’t get enough of me,” I said, filling his mug.
“The mediocre coffee here is spectacular.”
A heated flush rose up the side of my neck. There was nothing special in the words, but his brown eyes were locked onto mine and his tone was warm and playful. Suddenly I felt as light as air.
“Ivy. ”
I turned when an intrusive voice came from behind me.
My dad stood a few steps from the door, looking like he'd come straight from a meeting. He wore gray trousers and a tie, with a white shirt rolled up at his forearms. He didn’t give Dax a glance, only focused his steely gaze on me.
“I need to talk to you.”
“I’m working.”
He motioned around the nearly empty cafe. “Jean won’t mind. I think you can spare a few minutes for your dad.”
I hesitated, my teeth skimming my bottom lip. I’d been avoiding his phone calls since he showed up at my house after the Lucas incident. But he couldn’t stay here. The last thing this cafe needed was Dax poking the bear. And by the look on Dax’s face, he was itching to do it.
“I’ll be outside.” With a scathing glance at Dax, he turned and strode out the door.
I looked back to Dax, struggling to find words to fill the silence. Then I remembered I was a waitress.
“What would you like?”
“You don’t have to go out there.”
“I have to talk to him.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s…relentless. He’ll be back in five minutes. It’s easier to just go and get it over with.”
I began making my way toward the door to do exactly that when my clothes caught on something. Glancing down, Dax’s fingers gripped my apron.
“Hey,” he said, pulling me toward him, his voice a low rumble.
“What?” I asked, a little breathless.
“You’re okay to be here.”
“What?”
He motioned toward the window. “You don’t have to be perfect to exist on this island. No matter what he says. You can mess up and still be here.”
“It’s not that simple. My dad?—“
“It is that simple. Your dad will get over it.”
I huffed out a laugh. “You don’t know him. He doesn’t get over things.”
“That’s not your problem then.”
Drawing in a breath, I broke eye contact with him for a moment to gain my bearings. “I did screw up, though. And I think it really did mess with his campaign.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
I gaped at him. “How?”
“Because your dad isn’t part of this equation, Dr. Brooks. I am. And you could crash into my building ten more times and you’d still be okay.”
Time stood still at that moment. The chatter and the clank of silverware went on all around me, dulled to a white noise. It was just him and me and the feel of his hand holding my apron. I pursed my lips and glanced away from the sweet intensity of his gaze. A girl could forget about a lot of things with a gaze like that. My eyes stung and I fought to regain control.
“Did you call me doctor?”
Though I could tell it pained him in this moment, he bit back a smile. “That’s what you got out of all that?”
“I’ll remember it forever.”
“Not the real kind of doctor.”
I went on like I hadn’t heard him. “And ten more times? That’s a lot of community service.”
He was shaking his head at me while I spouted nonsense. Almost like he knew exactly what I was trying to do. But we needed a distraction. Dax Miller wasn’t supposed to be sweet. I had planned on him giving me a hard time. I had planned on him being sarcastic. A closed book? Certainly. And he was all of those things. But charming? Sweet? A tamed rebel with a soft side?
I had to tread carefully or else I would be done for.
“So go talk to him if you need to. But don’t take his crap. And don’t let him make you feel guilty for taking up space in this world.”
I tore my eyes from his and glanced to where my dad stood impatiently watching from the window. He tapped his watch.
I turned back to Dax. “I’ve got to go.”
He still clung to my apron. He glanced toward my dad and then back to me.
“If you need to do something to stick it to your dad...I’m available.”
A thrill rose gently up my spine at the ideas that grew from his suggestion. “Available? How?”
He shrugged. “I mean, if the idea of us being together is the worst thing for him…” he trailed off before looking at me. “Use your imagination.” A reckless grin carved slowly across his face.
The smile, the wild look in his eyes, the untamed hair…High School Dax was back. I sucked in a breath, glancing around the cafe. We were past the lunch rush with only a few lingering tourists remaining. Nobody I knew.
Not that it mattered.
I wasn’t doing…anything his eyes were strongly suggesting we do.
My hands found my hips. “I’m trying to keep the peace, not make things worse.”
He shook his head. “Until you show your dad he can’t control you, he’ll never leave you alone.”
The truth of his statement hit me with a sudden force, though I tried my best to deny it.
Folding my arms, I said, “So you’re offering yourself up for this experiment. How noble.”
He leaned back in his booth, temptation and vice oozing from his lips. “Use me however you want. You and your mind are in complete control.”
If I were being honest, my mind did wander for a split fraction of a moment. It was tiny. Microscopic. I took great comfort in the fact that nobody could have blamed me. He was leaning back in his seat in a white t-shirt with his arms resting on the table. Wild dark hair, curled slightly at the edges, fell in disordered array atop his head. His tattoos played peekaboo with me and suddenly I was somewhere else being pressed against a wall, bracketed by those arms.
He leaned forward, an amused smile touching his lips. “From the look on your face, your mind is kind of dirty.”
I pushed against his shoulder, blushing hotly, effectively snapping out of wherever I had been.
“I think I’ll be fine,” I stated, stepping back from him as he let go of my apron.
“Suit yourself. The offer still stands.”
I left him to his mediocre coffee while I slipped out the door to find my dad.
The sweltering Florida heat felt like walking into an oven. I wiped a bead of sweat off my brow as I picked my way toward where the senator was standing. When he saw me coming, he led me past another building on the more quiet side of the town square and slipped into an alleyway. I stopped a few feet away and squared my shoulders.
“Hi,” I said.
He ran a hand through his hair but didn’t make me wait long. “Ivy, I wanted to talk about the other night. Since you won’t answer my phone calls, this was my only option. I was concerned when I went to find you and you weren’t where you told me you’d be. When I discovered you were actually living next to—” He broke off, a tense chuckle seething out of his mouth. “As your father, who has warned you repeatedly against him, I was understandably upset. And you can’t blame me. ”
My jaw clenched. “His name is Dax.”
He smiled tightly. “I thought you’d be interested to know that the Foresters will not be donating money toward my campaign.”
“If you were any kind of a father, you wouldn’t want their money.” I pinched my lips together, knowing I should walk away, but I forced myself to hold his gaze.
The senator went on like I had never spoken. “That makes two large donors who have pulled out since you arrived back on the island.”
Don’t let him make you feel guilty for taking up space in this world.
You can mess up and still be here.
I wondered if Dax had learned that lesson himself.
My dad suddenly looked at something over my shoulder and smiled his big politician smile. “Hey, Bill! How are you?!”
I glanced back at the older man waving at my dad before moving onward. It was smart of him to come visit me in such a public place, where he was just a doting father visiting his daughter at work.
Well played, really.
“And do you know what the hardest part of it all is?” he went on. “I don’t know what to believe. Lucas burst into our meeting with a cracked nose and blood dripping down his face, claiming that he was saying goodnight at your door, and all of a sudden, your overprotective boyfriend with the tattoos started going crazy and beating on him. He said he barely got away.”
I shook my head, feeling sick at the lies. Feeling sick that he believed it. “He was pushing me too far, and Dax stepped in. End of story.”
“You want to know the worst part? I stood up for you.” He laughed bitterly. “I told them there was no way. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she’s staying at a friend’s house. My daughter can be a lot of things, but she’s not a liar. They looked at me like I had fallen for the oldest trick in the book—telling dear old dad you were staying at a friend’s house and instead running straight to the boy I’d made pretty clear you were to stay away from.” He swept his gaze down my arm, lingering on my tattoo. “And now it seems that boy is leaving his mark everywhere.”
“I lied because I couldn’t tell you the truth.”
“I told you to stay away from him.”
“I’m staying at his duplex to get away from you. So, it’s really your fault if you think about it.” I motioned toward the street where the man had just disappeared. “Maybe if you were the kind of person you act like in public, I’d have been happy to stay with you. But you’re not. And you can’t control me anymore.” I started backing away. He stepped toward me, but I threw up my hands to ward him off. “I’m going back to work.”
He might have had plenty left to say, but I didn’t have to listen.
I turned the corner, out of the alleyway, striding toward the restaurant when the cafe door flew open and Dax stepped out into the sunlight. He was a few paces away from the door, before he noticed me.
My determined stride noticeably waned until my feet stopped all together. For a long moment, we stood there, staring.
Use me however you want.
My heart began pounding erratically. It felt like the beginning of a race, where all the runners were poised, ready for the gunshot. One of us had to move. I thought of my dad—siding with Lucas without even questioning me. Without even asking if I was okay. Blaming me for all his problems. My blood nearly boiled over. Yes. I wanted to make him mad. I wanted to scratch and claw and scream. As a child, I never had a voice, but right now, my veins were blazing hot.
I knew Dax wasn’t going to make the first move. Even as he watched with a curious anticipation, he would let me lead where I was comfortable, and for that, I was grateful. But I was tired of comfort. I didn’t want to be careful anymore. I didn’t want to be told what to do or what not to do. I wanted to feel alive. So I began closing the distance toward the one person who had a particular knack for making me feel everything.
He watched me coming, even braced himself for impact because I wasn’t slowing. I didn’t know if my dad would see this, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to, but Dax had given me an excuse and I was taking it.
Somewhere in my march toward him, I lost a bit of my nerve and instead of the brash, dominant kiss I’d envisioned, my hands stopped at his chest, and my lips stalled halfway to his mouth. With a trace of amusement lining his features, he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me against him, moving us away from the windows of the cafe.
I raised myself up on my tiptoes, determined to finish what I started. Our lips were so close. The idea of it had seemed easier a moment ago, but now?—
“Chicken,” Dax goaded, his eyes sparkling.
My gaze narrowed, shooting him a warning look before I closed the distance.
Our lips came together gently at first—a series of sweet hellos in soft succession. Dax’s hands stayed lightly at my waist, while mine remained tucked at his chest, sandwiched between the press of our bodies. A cry for more echoed inside me almost immediately, even while caution tinged the air. The heat from his chest seeped through my shirt and one of his hands glided up my arm before resting against my cheek. I shivered, wanting more, but I was determined to ground myself in some sort of reality. This moment didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. And I needed him to know that.
I pulled back, blinking hard, my voice unsteady. “Just to be clear, this is about proving something to my dad. I’m leaving in a few weeks. And I don’t like you. ”
A low breathy chuckle escaped his lips. The unfortunate kind that had me craving a life of beaches and babies and a warm Floridian sun.
“I don’t like you either,” he murmured, his left hand grazing my cheek to tuck a curl behind my ear. He glanced past my shoulder, his teeth sliding across his lower lip. “But we’d better put aside our differences, because your dad’s about to get in his golf cart and he’s looking this way.”
“This was a bad idea,” I whispered, unable to resist Dax pulling me closer.
“You started it,” he said, a breath away.
“I did not?—”
He was kissing me again. The soft, almost curious kiss we’d shared only moments ago was nowhere to be found. Dax’s lips glided across mine in a way that curled my toes and had me arching toward him. His kiss was hot and smooth and controlled, the way he seemed to handle everything. I resisted my part as long as I could, but a girl could only hold back for so long before she breaks. And by the time Dax’s hands skated up my sides, his thumbs brushing my rib cage, I had broken.
I broke so hard.
My lips parted against his, letting him in. And that was all it took.
He drew both of his arms tightly around my body, his lips never leaving mine. Then, hauling me against himself before lifting me off the ground, he turned us, setting me down gently before pressing me against the wall of the cafe. His hands took turns in my hair and on my neck before landing on my cheek. His lips melted into mine, stirring up emotions that definitely didn’t make this seem like a bad idea. My hands roamed greedily up his arms, skimming past the tattoos on his shoulder before finding their place buried in the soft hair at the nape of his neck. As if on fire, his lips moved from my mouth to travel across my jawline and back again, not missing an inch .
In the back of my mind, I tried to remember where we were. Outside the cafe, in full view of the public. In full view of my dad . If he was even still around. Despite my insistence that this had all been for his benefit, I suddenly hoped he wasn’t here. I hoped the entire town had decided to stay home on this otherwise unremarkable Friday afternoon. I didn’t want to share this moment. I wanted it all to myself.
His lips were still on mine, but already I was mourning the loss of his kiss. The kind of kiss that would devastate me for a lifetime.
There had been so much talk leading up to this moment–the teasing, the goading, dancing around the heart of it all. But talk was just that. Talk. In this moment, our lips had painted us both liars. Big talkers. Hiding what we wanted most.
At least…hiding what I wanted most.