Chapter 8
Harbor
I thought we were getting heavy and heading for a conversation about the meaning of life. Nope. Her mood goes from introspective to animated with a wave of her hands. “Where do you live?” she asks.
Taking her in is a treat I didn’t expect to get tonight. I gulp some water and return the glass to the ring formed on the table from condensation. “I’m in an apartment a few blocks from here. The house out in The Pointe wasn’t ‘conducive’ to my behavior a few years ago. My dad’s words.”
Not missing a beat of what I mean, she says, “That’s a nice way of phrasing it.”
“I don’t blame him. I was a freshman at the university and wanted to party.
” Shame rattles through me as if I’m saying something I shouldn’t.
I would never want to make my family look bad.
At least, not more than I already have. But, if my honesty ends what Lark and I have started, then it’s best she knows to get out now because I can’t change my past. I am who I am. “I partied hard.”
“A lot of people do,” she says, not a word of mine fazing her. “I have good friends who still do, but I guess if there were ever a time, it’s this time in our lives.”
“You sound like you didn’t.”
She ponders the question, a family walking by drawing her attention to the window. “I drink occasionally, but otherwise, I never had the time to party. Even most weekends now, I work a catering shift.”
“Is it hard to see others go out when you’re working so hard?”
“I need the money, so I have to work. But it’s hard to hear about the fun after the fact. My roommate goes out all the time. She’d love for me to go out after my shift.”
“But you don’t?”
“It sounds so bad because I’m young, but I’m exhausted most of the time.
” Her eyes return to me, and she smiles, but some of the joy is lost. “Getting home at midnight, pulling on a dress and heels, full face of makeup, and doing my hair,” she says, her arms making circles in front of her, “and then going to party after all that? I don’t have the energy. ”
“Sounds like a lot, but you know, you don’t need all that. You always look great.”
Her chin dips to her chest as she hides her smile. “Thank you.” Taking her water, she sips again, and then says, “You didn’t finish the story about when you moved out.”
“Right,” I start where I left off. “My dad had a point. He didn’t say that, but I knew I wasn’t setting the best example for my younger siblings.
So instead of living by the rules, I decided to move in with my older brother who was already in the apartment.
It’s two bedrooms, so that made the transition easy. ”
“And that’s Loch?” Even though she sometimes appears shy around me, she’s not shy about asking exactly what’s on her mind. Adding that to the list.
“Yeah, Loch is my older brother.”
“I met him yesterday. He was nice.”
Not sure why, but she’s easy to talk to. I think it’s because she appears genuinely interested. Most girls I know don’t have that skill or natural inclination. “He’s a good guy. I also have a younger brother. Noah. Don’t know if you met him.” I’ll kick his ass if he hit on her.
“No, I didn’t.”
Thank fuck. I can give that kid some credit where it’s due. We’re all talented in the charisma category, but Noah’s turning into the biggest charmer of us all. “My little sister is Marina, and now you know my family tree.”
She laughs. “I have a feeling there’s more to the Westcott family tree, but since you’re giving me the short version, how about we talk about that some other time?”
“I like the sound of ‘some other time’ when it comes to you.”
She shrugs. “Well, I do owe you a dinner now, so I figure we don’t have to learn our whole life stories tonight.”
“True.”
Clasping her hands together on the table in front of her, she says, “But I need to know because I’m sensing a pattern. What’s up with the water names? Harbor, Marina, Loch—”
I chuckle. “There’s more, but I’ll leave it for some other time.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Lark smiles, leaving the topic where I left it. “How about you and Loch. You live together, but do you get along?”
Nodding, I reply. “Yes, ever since he moved out.”
“Ah,” she says, not surprised at all. “I hear siblings can be a pain in the ass.” Touching her chest, she adds, “Not that I would know since I’m an only child.”
“He graduated from Beacon U. two years ago. Now he spends most of his time in New York City, my dad’s right-hand man in the Manhattan office. He stays at the house when he’s in town.”
“That’s exciting.”
I shrug. “Loch is working on his career, networking, doing everything a good son does for his family.” Her smile falls. “What is it?”
She sits back and adjusts the napkin on her lap. “That sounds like a good employee more than a son.”
As an outsider, she doesn’t understand the full scope of Loch’s role in our family.
But she just nailed me, undermining all my brother does for us.
She sees me so clearly. I have a feeling I can’t pull anything over on her, so I straighten my shoulders and try to ignore the unsettling feeling creeping up the sides of my spine.
She asks, “What are your plans after graduation? Following in the family footsteps?” There’s no judgment in her tone or the way she looks at me, like what I say next will give insight into who I am.
Despite being called on my BS, she gives me the floor to say what I’m comfortable with sharing. “No. I’ve chosen the noble profession of medicine to pursue.”
Her mouth falls open, her lips parting in such a deliciously subtle way. “You’re going to medical school?”
I shift across the vinyl, still trying to come to peace with the decision I’ve made regarding my future. “That’s the plan.”
As if I’ve made her day, she says, “Incredible. I’m also going to medical school.
Well, trying to. I’m working on applications and took the MCAT over the summer.
” Resting her arms on the table, she sits on the edge of the seat and closes some of the space between us on the table.
“I can’t believe we have that in common.
You’re a senior and pre-med, right? How have we never met? ”
The heat of my stalkerish ways begins to catch up with me. Do I confess now or do I surprise her in the morning? There’s just something about her that makes telling the truth easier. “Guess it just wasn’t our time, but you know what’s even more mind-blowing?”
“What?” she asks with anticipation filling her eyes. “We actually have a class together.”
“We do?”
Taking my glass, I pull it across the wooden table. “First class. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”
Disappointment wedges into the greens of her eyes, darkening them just enough to wish I hadn’t said anything. I prefer the happiness found in the brighter version.
Row 14.
Seat 20.
I keep that to myself and instead offer her an out. “I sit in the back, and you sit closer to the front.”
The dim restaurant has only flickering candles on the tables and soft lighting above our heads. When she smiles, her beauty can’t be hidden in the shadows or by low lighting. “So you were stalking me?” She’s clever, entrapping me from our earlier conversation when I denied everything.
“If you want to get into the weeds, I noticed you versus the alternative.”
A rosy color fills her cheeks, and although she’s usually been bold in our interactions and quick with comebacks, she seems to be without any for the time being.
But there’s no fear or concern written on her face either.
She takes a sip of water and then rests forward again, keeping our conversation quieter between us. “I—”
“Here you go.” The server sets down the plates in front of each of us. Lark’s eyes are on him but move to the food, completely stolen from me. Resentment fills me but dissipates just as quickly, knowing I’ll have her full attention again in a minute.
As soon as he’s gone, she picks up her knife and fork. Her lips twist to the side as if she’s fighting a smile, but she says, “I have a secret I’ve been keeping from you, Harbor.”
I hate secrets. Secrets cause more problems than they solve. Like now. A thousand possibilities cross my mind of what she might tell me, but I land on only one, hoping I’m right. Did she notice me like I did her? Please say yes. “Tell me.”
She looks around, and then a devious smile crosses her lips. “I had dinner two hours ago.”
Fucking hell, she’s cute. I pretend to take this matter very seriously, though. “You misled me, Ms. Summerlin.”
Already spinning pasta around her fork, her shoulders pop up and down twice. “My apologies, Mr. Westcott, but how could I say no to this?” She takes a bite, her eyes practically rolling back in her head as she moans in ecstasy.
Fuck. I shift in a poor attempt to create more room in my pants. “You couldn’t.”
She chews, and then when she’s ready for another bite, replies, “Exactly. I couldn’t.”
I cut through my lasagna as if I don’t have an erection hiding under the table. Before I take a bite, I ask, “And why exactly couldn’t you say no?”
“Because of the company, and . . .” With another fork full of creamy pasta, she adds, “and did I tell you how much I love carbonara?”
“You did mention your love of carbonara. Since that ground has been covered, let’s talk about the company you couldn’t resist.”
She giggles. “That escalated quickly. That’s a big leap from not being able to say no to the company I keep to said company being irresistible.”
“Not much of a leap, but to be honest,” I say, and then smirk. “It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been called irresistible.”
This time a bellyaching laugh escapes her. So much so that she sets her utensils down and covers her mouth as she falls back. When she calms, she waves her hand erratically in front of her, still giggling, but says, “Thank you. I needed a good laugh.”
“Glad to oblige, but care to share what’s so funny?”
Catching her breath, she settles back at the table and picks up her fork again. “I have no doubt you’ve been called that many times over, but that aside, I’m so glad I came out tonight. This is the good time I didn’t know I needed.”
She’s refreshing in her honesty.
A natural beauty.
And not afraid to say whatever is on her mind.
“I’m glad you’re having a good time, but let me include you in on a little secret, Lark.”
Her brow rises, and she whispers, “Go on.”
“I’m having a good time with you.”
This night feels different.
And I have a strong suspicion that Lark Summerlin is proving to be just the distraction I need.