Shy Girl

by Katie Cross

  He looked at my lips, then back to my eyes. His chest rose and fell. My mind couldn’t get around the insecure high school girl in my mind.

  Jayson. Hernandez. Just. Kissed. Me.

  “Was that okay?” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  He came back.

  This time, he pushed me back until my body crashed onto the sand. Water slipped by with a gentle hiss. The kiss was hungry, his lips hot as the sun. All my resistance to what would happen when we returned to Pineville faded as I wrapped my arms around his neck and closed all space between us. His skin, slippery from the salty ocean, burned on top of mine.

  Words tied up in my throat until I couldn’t have spoken if I wanted to. They didn’t need to be said. Jayson was like a tidal wave with power of his own. His lips kept mine, gentle as the breeze. I grabbed his shoulders to cling to him as the water rushed around us. The warmth of the sun was nothing compared to his body over me. Nothing to the heat that boiled under my fingertips on his skin. The electric feeling of his lips finally on mine.

  The sense of this being a dream, a vivid recollection of what I’d always wanted but never believed would happen, washed through me. It swept me into the moment and I let go.

  My hands threaded into his hair with all the pent-up ferocity I’d held back since high school. A subdued cry followed from somewhere deep in my chest. I kissed him harder, and he responded. I held him tighter, and he clutched me to him. The waves and the water and the ocean ceased to exist as I melted into Jayson Hernandez.

  I gasped when he finally broke us apart. He leaned to the side, his forehead pressed to my shoulder, as I gathered my brain back together. Water glided past again, gentle this time. A subtle reminder of our tie to the world. My heart slammed in my chest. The sea had begun to calm, the sun to sparkle as the storm passed fully through.

  “Wow,” he whispered.

  I held myself against him because my heart had crumbled into pieces, and his power was about to sweep them away.

  Just like the tide.

  14

  Jayson

  We didn’t speak for an hour.

  After I held her in the waves while my body calmed down and my mind spun, we walked slowly back to the bungalow. Silently, she released the hand I’d forgotten she was holding and faded into her room with a hesitant smile and no eye contact. I stared out at the ocean, water pooling on the wooden floor beneath me.

  My mind had broken.

  Kisses were nothing new, and something I’d always taken for granted. A quick fix, maybe. A way to have the thrill, make a claim, something. They certainly weren’t startling. They weren’t powerful. They weren’t . . . connecting.

  Until Dagny.

  I stood at the window, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. Although I looked right at the sparkling ocean, I didn’t see it. My mind shifted back to the salt water taste on her lips. The feeling of her hair in my hands. Her body pressed against mine.

  What had I done?

  All those years, Dagny lived under my nose like a shadow, never stirring anything up, never really known. We’d lived around each other, but never really spoken to one another. Now, she stood like a startling beacon of everything I could have ever wanted in my life.

  And I’d wasted all that time.

  An hour later, her bedroom door clicked open.

  I stood up from where I sat on a wicker couch full of overstuffed pillows. Dagny stepped out in a fluttery sundress the color of an emerald, with a diamond pattern of light green and gray. She wore her glossy hair down past her shoulders, where short sleeves barely capped the top of her arms. Her face looked bronzed from our time in the sand earlier, and my heart did a double beat at the sight of her.

  Somehow, in the last hour, I imagined all that had been a dream. The kiss. The fun. The ease of being together. Her touch felt so natural in a world where I’d been trained to keep my distance. Until Dagny’s hand had been in mine, I didn’t realize how thirsty for physical connection I’d become. Seeing her stand before me made it clear that this was no dream.

  Or it was the best dream ever.

  “Hey,” I said as I stood. A stupid, lopsided smile was on my face, but I couldn’t have taken it off if I wanted to. Vik would have laughed at my less-than-smooth greeting to such a lovely woman. She stood just outside her bedroom, an expression of indecision on her face while she chewed on her bottom lip.

  “Ab-bout earlier?”

  I nodded to encourage her, but didn’t dare move. Her nostrils flared. She opened her mouth, then closed it again with a perplexed expression. To my surprise, I thought I knew exactly how she felt. I wasn't even ready to go there yet.

  “How about we go to the dinner,” I said, “and talk about this later? It was just a kiss, right? Doesn’t have to mean anything.”

  Something I couldn’t read flickered through her eyes, then faded. Her shoulders slumped a little, but she gave a little smile.

  “Y-yes, p-please. Th-thank you.”

  I felt like an idiot as she fidgeted with her fingers, then tried to hide doing so. Did I take it back? Elaborate? No, that made everything worse. What had I been thinking? Only an idiot would say that.

  Of course that kiss meant something—it meant everything—but she looked so frustrated that I wanted to spare her the agony of getting the words out. The pain of commitment when that wasn’t what she wanted. For all I knew, she only wanted a vacation and couldn’t have cared less about me.

  Relieved for an out, I held out my arm. “Then let’s get to the fondue. Thankfully, it’s not my turn to make a toast yet.”

  Dagny put her arm through mine and we stepped out of the bungalow to head toward the hotel. The sun hung in a bright blue sky as we joined several other couples making their way across the sand and toward an atrium in the middle of the island.

  “S-sand in fl-lip-fl-lops is so annoying,” she muttered. Grains of sand skittered ahead of and behind her as she waded through.

  “You can go barefoot, you know. It’s an island. No one cares here.”

  She smirked, but it seemed half-hearted. Dagny always struck me as an introverted person, but she’d spoken more than I expected on our trip. I began to wonder if she’d been hiding all this time. A reaction to her speech impediment, or something. Tonight, after playing so much in the sun and enjoying the sound of her voice, the quiet between us seemed all-encompassing.

  Even a touch tense.

  A few minutes later, we stepped into the hotel atrium.

  Everything sparkled, from the glasses on the table to the silverware that looked like actual silver. Dagny’s gaze darted from person to person with that keen curiosity she usually had, but never truly indulged through conversation. Waiters bustled around with covered trays or glasses of champagne, and the general air of money lingered in the room.

  It only made me more tense.

  Victoria's words when she broke things off with me whispered through my mind far too often. There's just no stability in law enforcement, whether it's time or money. I want someone that can be with me and provide for all the things that I want and need. I don't think you can do that on your salary.

  A direct jab to a man's pride, particularly when the backdrop of her life was this. To her credit, she'd been right. My world would never collide with this one. For that, I was immensely grateful. No pressure to be and provide something I couldn't in a relationship, but it took coming back to this to realize it.

  I held Dagny's arm a bit closer to my side.

  “It's l-lovely,” she said quietly.

  “A bit much, if you ask me.”

  She smiled a little, but didn't disagree. Several long tables filled the room with their white tablecloths and elegant arrays of flowers in the middle. A sideboard across the room dripped with platters of hors d'oeuvres near which a few people mingled. Waiters swished in and out of the kitchen, bringing more food to people in the crowd.

  “Wh-what would you p-prefer to this?” she asked.

 
; “A beer at the Diner.”

  “N-not c-coffee at the shop?” She attempted to sound scandalized, but it came out as more of a laugh than breathy shock. I grinned.

  “Black, n—”

  “No c-cream or s-sugar,” she said, interrupting me. Her voice dropped an octave in a poor imitation of me. “L-like a man. Five stars.”

  I laughed. “Okay, point taken. I have my patterns.”

  “Y-yes,” she murmured, “you do.”

  A bright red, sequined dress slipped close out of the corner of my eye, and I looked over in time to see Victoria approach alone. Before this trip, I'd rarely seen her by herself. Men or other women always accompanied her. She reached out to put a hand on my arm, but I grabbed a passing wine glass and she withdrew a second before the rejection would have been blatantly obvious.

  “You look as handsome as ever,” Victoria said to me, as if Dagny weren't standing less than an inch from my side. Dagny's smile had become fixed, but I could have sworn I saw more intrigue than concern.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  Victoria paused, as if waiting for more, then motioned to the table. “I've already claimed a seat at this table.” She motioned to a round one not far from a table with seashell clasps holding cloth napkins together. “Would you care to sit next to me?”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but another couple in deep discussion slid into place instead, oblivious to Victoria's attempts. Someone rapped a fork on a glass in a delicate tinkle that floated above the crowd.

  “Attention!” called a distant voice. “Ladies and gentlemen?”

  People quieted as they looked to the front of the room. The rest of the attendees funneled to tables nearby, or crossed the room to their seats. Victoria pressed her lips together, but before she could respond, Dagny motioned to two seats on the other side of the table.

  “H-how ab-bout across from you?” she asked Victoria.

  Victoria gave a bland smile. “Perfect.”

  After everyone found a seat, a quick thank you speech came from Grady's parents who ran the dinner. An army of waiters appeared from a pair of swinging doors at the back. The cleared area between tables filled with the delicious smell of food and the song of ice water filling glasses. Dagny leaned closer to me.

  “D-do you know anyone here?” she asked.

  I shook my head.

  Her nose wrinkled. “Is th-that normal for a B-best Man?”

  “Probably not.” I muttered. “Grady could have chosen someone more immersed in his world for this job. I'm more a remnant of his past than a daily part of his life now. But the Merry Idiots have never done anything the normal way.”

  Her face illuminated as she grinned and quietly said, “Touché.”

  Victoria's voice sailed over the clink of plates and silverware as a salad plate appeared in front of us from our right hand side. “So,” she said brightly, her lips pulled into a candy-apple-red smile that matched her dress. “Tell us what you do for a living, Dagny.”

  The other four people at the table gazed politely at us. Dagny's face heated a little, but she responded easily.

  “I'm a b-barista.”

  Victoria's eyebrows rose. “Oh? Like at a coffee shop?”

  Dagny nodded.

  “Interesting.” Victoria leaned forward. “And are you doing that while you attend college?”

  “Y-yes. I'm d-doing an online d-degree. The sh-shop is my f-full time j-job.”

  “What is your major?”

  “C-construc-ction m-anagement.”

  Victoria's gaze became one of polite disinterest. She had a sip of water. The two women to my left—Grady's distant cousins, I thought—fell back into conversation together. An older couple with white hair and bored expression acted like they couldn't hear us.

  “That's lovely,” Victoria finally said, but her smile cut in a frosty way. Dagny ignored it and reached for her water. “Is Jayson a customer of your store?”

  “It's n-not m-my store.” Dagny had a casual sip. “I j-just work there.”

  Victoria's smile became more polite. I almost reached over to grab Dagny's hand in a show of solidarity, but held back. Her stare had honed in on Victoria as well, as if the two of them sensed something in the other. Whatever was about to happen here, I had no idea.

  “Of course,” Victoria purred. “I'm sure it's lovely having a job with so little personal responsibility. Do you live at home?”

  Dagny's hand on her lap clenched. “No, I rent a studio.”

  “Ah.”

  Victoria gazed away, as if she couldn't find another topic for the two of them to discuss. I let out a mental sigh of relief. If that was—

  “And what plans do you have for your future?” Victoria asked.

  Dagny hesitated, and I couldn't help but feel curious myself. How had I not asked her the same question?

  “I'm an o-o-open b-book,” she finally managed, her voice thicker than before. Victoria smiled, and the acerbic tension seemed to catch the attention of the older guy next to her. He frowned at her.

  “How very lovely for you,” Victoria purred. “I imagine it's an interesting life when you can live so simply and without much progress into more important things.”

  Dagny's nostrils flared. “Th-that dep-p-pends on your d-definition of p-p-progress.”

  Victoria brightened. “Indeed. Shall we debate the point?”

  “Ah . . .”

  Confusion clouded Dagny's features. Victoria had set her off course a bit, and probably on purpose. Victoria waved a hand as if to dismiss the suggestion before Dagny could respond.

  “No, of course not. That wouldn't be fair to you after all my extensive debate experience. Can you tell me more about how you and Jayson met? If these questions are too difficult or make you uncomfortable, do tell me to stop. I imagine it must be hard for you in social settings.”

  My nostrils flared and I opened my mouth to say something, but Dagny put a hand on my leg. The weight and warmth startled me out of my thoughts.

  “N-not at all,” she said brightly. “D-does my st-stutter bother you, Victoria?”

  The direct jab back brought everyone at the table into the conversation. The two women next to me stopped pretending to be in discussion and instead looked at Dagny and Victoria. The older couple blinked back to life, mouths half open and slack.

  Victoria's smile dropped into an expression of horror.

  “Of course not! I'm impressed that you manage to get out at something like this and still get your point across. I do a lot of volunteer work with clinics that serve people who struggle with what you have. Very brave.”

  Dagny's nostrils flared, but she didn't even credit that condescending comment with a response.

  “You l-lived with th-the D-dunkins, I heard?” Dagny asked. “Wh-what a l-lovely p-privilege, to b-be the r-recipient of such h-hospitality.”

  Victoria’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. The old man coughed into his water. Eyes riveted on Victoria, his wife gave him a hard pounding on the back that only made it worse.

  “They were very kind,” Victoria said graciously.

  “W-were you unab-ble to f-find a j-job after c-college?”

  “A brief sabbatical, if you will, before I began my career.”

  Dagny smiled, but it had a touch of use. “H-how n-nice to live s-s-so simply and w-w-without much progress into m-more important things.”

  Victoria’s nostrils flared. The old lady let out a squeak. Grady’s cousins clear their throat, heads turned to the side and lips twitching. Only extensive training and years of law enforcement work kept me from hooting laughter. Dagny didn’t even flinch—her gaze had honed in on Victoria like a pointer. The two of them stared hard at each other until I loudly broke the tense air with a comment directed to the woman at my left.

  “You're Grady's cousins, right?”

  She smiled. “Yes.”

  We fell into a polite back-and-forth until the general air of tension dissipated in t
he crowd. Dagny motioned for a waiter to refill her glass. Victoria gazed out, as if bored. Despite the repartee clearly meant to embarrass Dagny, she maintained a serene-like expression. Her attention turned to the older woman next to her, whom she trapped in conversation about a broach she wore. Victoria's stare flitted to me every other second, but I ignored her. Thankfully, she remained silently brooding, overlooking the crowd here and there. Grady's two cousins ignored her entirely.

  Beneath the easy conversation that resumed at the table was a low-level hum of something. Frustration, perhaps. Maybe even astonishment. Then again, maybe that was just the way I felt about the situation.

  Dagny laughed at something the older woman said, and the sound sent a jab through my heart. My gaze fell on Victoria, who brightened a little when she caught my stare. Her lips moved, silently saying, “My room. Later.”

  I gazed away in a pointed no.

  She smiled a little too widely for the next hour.

  By the time we broke free from the rehearsal dinner, the clock betrayed a late 10:30. Hours of smiling, talking, and monitoring a very quiet Dagny on my arm had exhausted every mental resource I had. All I wanted to do was drop into a deep sleep.

  Or kiss Dagny again.

  Could go either way.

  When I guided Dagny out of the atrium and into the moonlit night, she gave no protest. Her eyes were drawn and tired, like she had a headache, and I wanted to get her back to the bungalow before someone else who was half drunk trapped us in conversation I didn't care about. Three hours of this was more than enough for any Best Man. Where Sebastian and Vik ended up, I had no idea. Somehow, I’d only caught glimpses of them all night. My friends hadn’t even crossed my mind since I saw Dagny on the beach in her tankini and wanted to spend time with her. What a strange feeling.