Chapter 7
seven
ORION
I knew moving to Florida in August would be demanding. The endless heat and humidity drain my existence. But the renovations are done on the house and I’m ready for this new chapter of my life. All the improvements had to be done before I moved in. Otherwise, I’d be tempted to escape rather than deal with the chaos of construction projects.
I don’t have a lot of belongings, so the house needs to be filled. Today was delivery day for my furniture. My sister, Brooklynn, told me to hire an interior decorator, but I don’t want outside influences on how my house looks or feels. I want my vision to come through. It was risky since I’d never decorated anything before, the boat only ever having the necessities. But I’m happy with the results as I walk from room to room. It feels like home to me.
Now that my bedroom is set up, tonight will be the first night I spend here. I love the Twisted Rigging , but my pillow smells like Carina. It made me antsy from wanting her.
I’m hot from the moving, and even with the a/c on, I feel sticky. I had the pool cleaned a few days ago, and I decide to check it out. I step into my backyard and pull off my shirt.
That’s when I hear her voice.
“No, you can’t be here.”
I turn to the house next to me, the one between me and the water. And only a few feet from me, looking perfect, is Carina. The sun dips toward the horizon behind her and the light hits her blond hair, making it look like a halo. She’s wearing yoga clothes. Did she come from the studio? Her hands rest on her hips like she’s angry.
My mind freezes. I genuinely don’t know how to react to her. I wasn’t expecting to see her. At least not like this.
I’m so fucking happy.
I’ve been thinking about her constantly, but I’m biding my time. I’d let it happen naturally at Paradise or bring her up casually with Alex. As much as I can’t stop replaying the way she came, I didn’t think our paths would cross this soon.
The fence between our houses is low enough that I can see straight through to the beach from my raised deck. If I’m in the pool below, I have a little privacy. But right now I’m elevated, and I see her standing on her deck.
She looks mad.
“Sorry?” I let her know I’m confused.
“You can’t be here.”
“I don’t know what to tell you, but I am.” Is Carina my next-door neighbor? The thought of having her close to me all the time sends all my blood straight to my dick.
I shift my body away from her, like I’m surveying the land. I can’t get hard right now. It’ll be too obvious in my shorts. I don’t think that will endear me to her.
“No, that’s not right,” she says.
“Will you come around so we can talk about this like adults?” We both have gates on this side of our houses. She can be here easily and then we’re not shouting at each other.
She huffs but does what I ask, while I put my shirt back on. She’s seen me naked, but I can’t read her right now. While distracting her with memories of sex might be fun, I should give her the chance to focus. None of this is a game to me. I’m certainly thinking about the future, and not just now—I’ve thought about pursuing a relationship with her, but I have to be careful. Her living next door gives me too much access to her. It could get dangerous fast.
“What are you doing here?” she asks when she gets close to me.
“I live here,” I say.
“No, that’s not possible. You live on a boat.”
“I moved.”
“But I live here.”
“No, pretty sure I bought this house.”
She rolls her eyes. “I mean, I live there.” She points to the house next to me.
“Fascinating.” I shove my hands into my pockets. “Well, this makes it easy for you to show me around town.”
“No. I can’t do this.”
“Why?” My annoyance grows. We didn’t leave on the best of terms with her flying out of the cabin. I thought that was because everything was more intense than we expected. Not that she never wanted to see me.
“We can’t sleep together again.”
“I know. You said that. We’re neighbors. We’re not sharing a bedroom or anything.” Eventually, I’ll at least convince her that visiting each other’s bedrooms is a good idea.
She looks around as if searching for an exit, and I need her attention back on me.
“Let’s go inside,” I suggest, turning to the door. She nods and follows. I lead us through my living room to the kitchen. It’s the first room after my bedroom I unpacked. I can’t wait to spread out and cook everything I don’t have the space for on the boat. I checked out Haley’s blog and I already bought what I need for the famous fish tacos.
Carina’s skin is a little pink. I can’t tell if it’s from the sun or if she was working out. She walked to the marina that day, and now that I know where she lives, I’m not all that surprised. She probably does that a lot. I’ve checked out her brand—she’s genuinely concerned about the environment, focusing on sustainable fabrics and recyclable packaging. Maybe she just got home?
I don’t understand why she doesn’t wear a hat.
She’s removed her sunglasses and holds them in one hand as she plants herself in front of the fridge. I lean back against the counter with my arms crossed, watching her.
“Look, the sex was great, but it won’t happen again,” she says.
I take a small victory in her admitting that much. “Spell out why for me, exactly. And detailed, please.” I need to know what she’s thinking. I won’t play catch-up.
“I only do flings. Short, casual, we have our fun and then go our separate ways. If we’re neighbors, which we are, we can’t go our separate ways. It’ll get messy.”
It might not get messy, but based on my history, she’s right.
“What if it doesn’t get messy? What if it works?” I counter.
She rolls her eyes. “I’m thirty-two. You’re, what?”
“Thirty-five.”
“You’re single so it clearly hasn’t worked for you before. It’s never worked out for me,” she continues. “No reason to believe after one night this one would be different.”
“You’re committed to being single forever?” We’re both young enough. This isn’t the eighteen hundreds. She’s not a spinster. Isn’t the whole point of dating to find the one that does work?
“I have a fulfilling life. I don’t owe you an explanation of my choices. Are you even looking to settle down?” Her “you” is full of accusation—she can’t imagine I’d want this.
Yes , I want to yell. But she’s right, at least for now. I need to get my life in order with moving and the new business before I pursue any type of relationship. I don’t know if things would work out with her. But just because I don’t know the future doesn’t mean I’m willing to completely write us off. I can wait. Get to know her better. Then take a fully informed risk.
I never sail without knowing the weather. This is the same thing.
“Even if I did want to settle down,” I muse, testing some waters, “and things went well between us, we’d eventually want to move in together. My place or yours?” She’s a thinker and a planner. Let’s see how far ahead she plans.
She answers fast. She knows what she wants. “I love my house. It’s right on the beach. And as nice as this remodel is”—she gestures to my cabinets with both hands—“I’m not moving farther from the beach.” She clearly thinks if we can’t move in together, then we’re doomed from the start.
And I poured my soul into this house—I’m not giving it up for anything or anyone. Sure, she might be slightly closer to the water, but the exchange isn’t worth it for what this place means to me already. “I’m not going anywhere either.”
“Really? I thought you’d be gone by the end of winter and list this as a vacation rental.”
“Nope, I’m here for good. You’re stuck with me,” I say.
“You’re really not off to the Med or Turks and Caicos?”
I shrug. “For a short trip, sure. But Wendell Beach is my home port from now on.”
She looks skeptical. “Right. Well, either way, if it works or if it doesn’t between us, we’ll both end up miserable. So we shouldn’t.”
I’ve learned something about Carina in the last minute I don’t think anyone else knows: she says things she doesn’t believe. But the truth is easy to pick out.
If our hooking up was only a fling, and was something we are both okay with, then there wouldn’t be any risk. We could hook up, it would be great, and then we’d stop and we could live next to each other and everything would be fine.
The only way it would end in catastrophe would be if feelings got involved.
So, she’s as wrecked as I am over what happened last week.
She’s right. If we hook up again, it won’t be enough. We’ll consume each other until our world explodes. She’s dug in. If she claims she won’t move, then she won’t.
But I bought this house to be my home. To be a promise of a stable future. Everyone back in Boston might think I’ll be bored in a few months and ready to move on. They’re wrong.
It’s not out of stubbornness or a need to be right. It is about me knowing my mind and knowing even if I was wrong those times before, I’m not wrong now.
This time is different. I need to tread carefully around Carina Webb.
I’m planting here. It’s not just that she’s next door, but she’s also a pillar of the community. I’ve looked her up since that day. In addition to her polished Instagram feed, she constantly shows up in posts from other small businesses. I also found articles about her advocacy for native wildlife. She might not take revenge on me if I hurt her, but I have a feeling this community would. They know what she’s done for them. They will go to bat for her in a way I’m not prepared to cross. If this goes wrong, the way it has with every other woman I’ve been with, I’ll lose everything I’m trying to build. I knew that when we were on my boat. I truly thought it would be just the one time. Before I knew how good it was and wanted more.
What does it mean, that this feels different to me? That she would be different?
But no matter how good the sex is, if she is so against it, I won’t risk my home. Not for her and not for anyone.
So I agree with her lie. “You’re right. I’m not looking for a relationship. Never had one that lasted more than a few weeks anyway. We should just be neighbors.” Anything more than neighbors is taking a risk. I need to be willing to gamble.
I’m not sure I’m ready to yet.
“Good. I’m glad we got that out of the way.” She finally looks around her. She’d been so focused on me that she hadn’t looked at the house.
She’s been next door this whole time, so she must have noticed the contractors. I deeply hope they haven’t been a pain for her. I couldn’t be around for any of it, so Alex checked on things periodically. He assured me things were moving smoothly and not a bother to the area.
Funny he never mentioned my neighbor.
I practically gutted the place. It hadn’t been updated in years, and since I am making this my first home on land since I was a teenager, I wanted the best of everything.
Carina scans the kitchen.
When I bought it, the cabinets were from the eighties and the appliances the nineties. I put in white cabinets and a blue marble countertop. All the appliances are stainless steel and state-of-the-art. I can watch a movie on my fridge if I want to.
She looks down the hall to the living room and slowly walks that way, peeking into the two guest rooms. She’s mentally noting every detail and change.
I want to know what she’s seeing. Did she know the people who lived here before me? I don’t know how long she’s been in Wendell Beach, and I honestly don’t know anything about the sellers. I did the showing in person, which they were absent for, and the rest was done remotely.
She gets to the living room, to where I have a couch set up with a big-screen TV. Across is a wet bar, already filled with a few bottles of my favorite rum.
“How?” she asks.
I wait for her to finish the question, but she doesn’t. “How what?”
“How does it already feel like a home?” Her voice is full of awe.
Her question knocks me on my heels. Does it feel like a home to her? It feels like more to me. It’s the exact sensation I want to convey.
I shrug, not wanting to betray how meaningful the comment is.
“I’ve watched the renovations happen and I thought it would be soulless. But it’s not.”
“Thanks. I’ll be here for a long time. I want the place to reflect that,” I say.
“I’ll have to get your list of contractors. My place needs a few updates.”
“How long have you lived there?” I ask.
She bobs her head. “The math is fuzzy. My parents bought it when they were newlyweds. It’s mine now, outright. I moved in full-time about seven years ago.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.” I don’t know anything about her family situation.
She looks at me strangely. “Oh, they’re not dead. Just the world’s messiest divorce.”
“Right.” I wonder if that’s the reason she’s so against relationships.
“So, we’re good?” she asks, coming out of whatever surprised her so much.
“We’re good.” We’re good enough for now, anyway.
She moves to leave but turns back to me. “Oh, I was at Paradise this afternoon. It’s the beach bar I mentioned to you.”
“I do know it.” I might as well come clean. “I haven’t been yet. I should confess—the owner was the best man at my sister’s wedding.”
“You know Alex?”
“Yes.”
“You didn’t tell him about us, did you?”
“No.” I narrow my eyes. I told her I wouldn’t.
“Oh good. I would rather no one know. I didn’t even tell Haley.” She sounds relieved.
She hides from her friends and overshares with me. Great . “You said that before.”
“It’s just…you know Alex—he can be a bit meddlesome. And if there was any hint of attraction between us, he’d play matchmaker. It’s his thing.”
That seems right. He introduced Brooklynn and her husband, Spencer. “Does he know where you live?” I ask.
“Yes, he’s been over a million times,” she says.
“Strange he’s never mentioned you to me, since he knows I bought this place.”
She rolls her eyes. “Exactly. No reason to give him more to work with.”
If he had told me my charter guest was my neighbor, that night would have gone differently. He had to know.
“Anyway, back to Paradise,” she continues. “My friend, Christian, owns Wendell Beach Rum Works. He had me taste his new batch. I think you’d like it.”
I look at her and smile. She was drinking rum and thinking about me. I’ve suspected she says one thing and thinks another. This is the moment when I have absolute proof. “Thanks, I’ll check it out.”
She smiles at me and then turns to walk out my front door.
“Carina, wait,” I say. She turns with a confused look on her beautiful face. Her eyebrows scrunch together, making her nose look adorable. “You know I won’t go easy on you.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you I see the hiding you do from everyone. You won’t be able to hide from me.”
I don’t know how things will go with her living next door to me. I will focus a lot of attention on getting to know her. It’s probably a terrible idea. I need to focus on other things, but I won’t be able to get the feeling of Carina moving beneath me out of my mind for an extremely long time.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says.
The slight smile on her face tells me she likes that I see her when no one else does.