Confession

  “After high school though …?” I leave the question open for his response.

  “After high school for sure. Every day, and hopefully many more times before that.”

  He pulls me over so my body is lying on top of him. I rest my head on the tops of my hands and stare down at his face. He runs his fingers along my forehead and down to my lips. I close my eyes with his touches.

  “Did you ever think we would do what we did last night?” he asks me.

  My eyes pop back open. “Two years ago? One year ago? No. I mean I wanted to do what we did. I just didn’t think it would ever happen, but six months ago? Two months ago? Yes. At some point.”

  “What changed?”

  I cringe at the thought, bringing my nose and mouth up to my eyes.

  Bodhi laughs. “That’s a very cute face you’ve got going on there, but seriously, what changed?”

  I kiss his lips. “Porter. I realized by dating him, that I couldn’t be without you forever.”

  Bodhi sighs and brings his lips to mine. “I was always yours to have.”

  I rest my head on his chest. “We both knew that. How badly we belonged together.” I then look back up at him. “You know when you were little, and at school or something? And you were sick, and the only thing you wanted was for your mom to come pick you up and bring you home so you could put your pajamas on and snuggle under a blanket on the couch, and feel warm and cozy and safe?”

  Bodhi nods his head.

  “That’s how I feel when I’m with you. Warm, and cozy, and safe. Home. You’re my home, Bodhi. I’ve always felt that way around you.”

  Bodhi pulls my face to his and kisses me. “I couldn’t have said it better if I tried, Eva. I really don’t deserve you.”

  “Stop saying that, Bodhi. Yes, you do.”

  His fingers run along my hairline. “I’m not at all embarrassed to tell you, you invaded every single dream of mine these last three years, especially this last one.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I grin. “Were these dreams appropriate for kids to view?”

  He laughs under his breath. “Definitely not.”

  “Have I met your expectations?” I ask him.

  “Absolutely. And more.”

  “Good,” I smirk, bringing my head back to his chest.

  We stay like that, Bodhi running his fingers up and down my back, me listening to his heartbeat, for what feels like a hundred perfect hours.

  “Are you hungry?” he suddenly asks. “I’m famished.”

  “Yes,” I reply, lifting my face up to nod my head. “And I need some—”

  “Coffee,” Bodhi finishes. “I need to get some coffee back in my house.” His hands graze my lower back. “You tell me … stay in bed all morning doing this, or head out and get some food and coffee.”

  I give his lips a kiss. “Coffee. But I need to take a shower. I’m going to do that first.”

  Bodhi smirks and sighs at the same time.

  “What?” I ask him.

  “You,” he replies. “I love how you just told me you were going to take a shower.”

  “That made you happy?” I question, my eyes raising with confusion.

  “I want you to always be comfortable here,” he tells me.

  “I am comfortable here.”

  “And that makes me really happy,” he kisses my nose. “The bathroom over there has my mom’s collection of girly smelly shit under the sink,” he points to the door behind us. “Help yourself.”

  “Girly smelly shit,” I repeat, laughing.

  “She was a hoarder of all bath soaps and shampoos with senseless smells.”

  “I remember,” I grin.

  He laughs and rolls out from under me. “If you want to get in,” he says as he bends down and kisses my forehead, “I’ll go grab your clothes from the dryer.”

  I stay there for a few seconds after Bodhi walks out, wrapped up in a sheet, knowing that one day, maybe not soon but definitely one day, this exact house is where I want to call home. Bodhi and I, in this house, the house that has always felt like home to me.

  I get in the shower and let the warm water beat down on my body. I might be a little sore, everywhere. But it’s a good type of sore, and the warm water feels like heaven as it hits my muscles. I squirt some vanilla bath soap on a loofah and move it around my body as I hear the bathroom door open.

  “It smells like a sugar cookie in here,” Bodhi laughs. “I suddenly have visions of making Christmas cookies with you and the guys years ago.”

  I grin as I remember that day too. “Vanilla,” I tell him. “And there’s glitter in it?”

  “Wouldn’t surprise me,” he replies. “I’ll put your clothes on the sink. It’s a mess out there, from what I can see from the windows. Might need to navigate around down palm trees to get you back to the Halifax. Want to go to Swillerbees first?”

  Swillerbees is a Flagler Beach local donut and coffee shop. Their donuts are massive and delicious, and I can already taste the coffee on my lips. I moan with anticipation as I turn the water off and wrap myself up in a towel.

  “Yes, my god yes,” I declare, flinging the shower curtain open.

  I throw on my clothes and quickly grab the box with my name on it in the corner of the room. I peer inside for just a second, to see it’s filled with pictures, one looks to be framed, more are wrapped together with string. I tuck it under my arm. I feel like I need to look through them alone, to allow myself that time to breakdown if I have to.

  SWILLERBEES ISN’T FAR from Bodhi’s. My stomach is growling as he takes my hand and we walk inside. The line wraps around the door and is filled with all the locals waiting for their sugar rush and caffeine fix. The smell alone inside Swillerbees makes me drool.

  “We should get your brothers some donuts,” Bodhi says to me. “And your mom some coffee.”

  I almost start crying right there. I hope he doesn’t notice. I can’t even explain how much that means, that he’s thinking about my family, even if it’s stupid donuts and coffee. Porter, he never cared about anyone other than himself. I wrap my fingers in between Bodhi’s and lean my head on his shoulder. His smell, every time I smell that familiar smell, it reminds me of everything that’s right in my life.

  “They would love that,” I say.

  “Good. You smell delicious by the way,” he grins.

  I smile and give his hand a squeeze. We’re almost to the front of the line now.

  “Shit,” Bodhi mutters. “My wallet, it’s in the jeep.”

  “I’ll go get it,” I say, reaching out for his keys. He drops them in my hand and I head back out the door.

  The sun is blinding me as I unlock the jeep and reach in, grabbing Bodhi’s wallet from the cup holder and hopping back out. We parked on the side street, across from Swillerbees, as there were no parking spots available in the connected lot. I shield my eyes from the sun with my hand as I go to cross the street again, and suddenly hear tires screeching. I jump and turn, looking in the noise’s direction, only to see an old, rusted, red pickup truck a mere twenty feet away from me. Dust is flying up around the tires from the dirt that has washed down into the street with the heavy rains. I had walked right out in front of the truck. The sun had been blocking my view of him coming down the street.

  The first thing I notice when the dust clears is the swinging palm trees hanging from the rearview mirror. The second thing I notice is that the driver is wearing a khaki baseball cap. This can’t be real. This can’t possibly be the same truck that’s been following Bodhi around. He can’t possibly be stopped right in front of me, right now.

  The driver is clutching the steering wheel and his lips have formed a frown on his face. That’s all I can see of him. I can’t see his face directly as the rim of the baseball cap covers most of his eyes, but I see him look up and over at the jeep, and then back to me. He’s watching me. I’m pretty sure he knows exactly who I am. This sends shivers down my spine.

  I watch as he reaches down next to him, p
robably to unbuckle his seat belt, and this is when my mind alerts me to back the hell up. My feet move, tripping and stepping on my toes. My fingers unlock the jeep with the key fob repeatedly as I reach behind me for the door handle. The driver’s door on the pickup truck suddenly flings open and I see the driver’s legs swing out of his seat. Dark, holey jeans even though it’s already ninety degrees outside, and scuffed converse shoes.

  I suddenly hear the Swillerbees’ door open. The bell jingles and causes me to glance away from the driver. I look over to see Bodhi step out. His eyes go straight to mine, then the truck, then back to me. He’s much farther away from the truck than I am, but as soon as he realizes what’s going on, he takes off running in my direction.

  My eyes go back to the driver who is heatedly watching Bodhi now. He swings his legs back in his truck and slams his door closed, hitting the gas before Bodhi gets any closer. I know he’s hoping I don’t see him as his truck flies by in a cloud of dusty dirt, but I do. I see his face perfectly clear through the window as he’s that close to me as his truck rushes down the road. We even make eye contact. Bodhi then appears through the dust and pulls me right into his arms as I start coughing.

  “Are you okay?” he asks me. He’s looking at me all over as if I’m missing a part of my body. “Eva? Are you okay?”

  I nod and put my face into his shirt. “Bodhi. Bodhi, I saw the driver. I know who he is.”

  “You did?” he pulls me away. “Who? Who is it?”

  I put my hands on his chest and hesitantly answer him. “Your dad, Bodhi. It’s your dad.”

  chapter twenty-seven

  Bodhi

  E va and I are driving back to her house. I had stepped out of Swillerbees after I placed our order just to see what was taking her so long. Not expecting to see her standing in the middle of the road with the red pickup truck that’s been following me, staring her down. My entire body went into panic mode, seeing her standing there looking so scared. Currently, her one hand is in mine, her other is clutching her Swillerbees coffee, and a box of untouched donuts lay on the floor of my jeep.

  “Maybe it wasn’t him?” I say to her, rubbing her fingers with mine. “Maybe it was just someone who looked like him?”

  She looks over at me and raises her eyes. “Someone who looks like you? Someone who looks exactly like Calvin? Someone who’s been following you? It was him. It was your dad. I’m sure of it.”

  My dad. In Flagler. The driver of the red pickup truck that’s been following me, that almost drove me off the road, that almost hit Eva. If it’s my dad, why is he here? Why hasn’t he introduced himself? Does he know who I am? Obviously, he does. Why would he be following me if he didn’t? He sure as hell isn’t making a good first impression, that’s for damn sure.

  I pull in through the gates at Eva’s house, having memorized her gate code these last couple days, and put my jeep in park. She makes no sign that she’s ready to get out, so I wait. I’ll sit out here all day with her if that’s what she wants.

  “Don’t tell my mom,” she blurts out, glancing over at me, a worried look on her face.

  “About …?”

  “Obviously don’t tell her about last night,” she blushes. “But I meant about your dad. Don’t tell her. My dad, your dad, Owen Edwards, Mr. Channing … I know they’re all connected somehow, Bodhi. Don’t tell her we saw your dad, okay?”

  I nod. I’m still not convinced it was my dad she saw. “I won’t, babe.”

  We head inside her house and find her brothers at the kitchen table eating cereal in their matching superhero pajamas.

  “Swillerbees!” the one with the most freckles cries out. Miles? I’m pretty sure it’s Miles. “Give me! Give me!”

  “Miles, may I have one, please?” Mrs. Calloway corrects him, coming into the kitchen from the hallway.

  I knew it was Miles. I’ve got their freckles figured out.

  “May I have one, please?” he repeats.

  “May I have one too?” Rowan asks. “Please?”

  “Of course,” I reply, placing the box on the table and opening the top to reveal the dozen donuts underneath. “Knock yourselves out.” The boys both dive in for the colorful fruity pebbles ones that I specifically picked out for them. It makes me smile. These little dudes are definitely growing on me.

  “Manners?” Mrs. Calloway says to them both.

  “Thank you!” they mumble in between bites.

  “No problem dudes,” I say to them. I then pull a coffee out of the drink carrier and hand it out to Mrs. Calloway. “For you.”

  Her face turns pink. “Well, geez,” she replies, looking between Eva and I. “I can’t say I’ve ever been given coffee by a boyfriend of Eva’s before. Thank you, Bodhi.”

  “Anytime.” I take a seat at the table with the boys and pick up a peanut butter donut. “These are the best,” I say to them both as I take a huge bite.

  “No way,” Miles replies. “Fruity pebbles for sure, then chocolate sprinkles.”

  “You don’t know what you’re missing. Maybe you need to be five before you like the peanut butter ones?” I shrug.

  Eva places the box from my house on the counter and sits down next to me. Her mom joins us too.

  “We won’t be five until Halloween,” Rowan declares.

  “Well, four might be the magic number,” I say, breaking off a piece of my donut and handing it out to him. “Try it.” He takes it and inspects it in his hands. He even sniffs it. I try not to laugh at him. He slowly puts it in his mouth and starts chewing. “Well?”

  He puts his hand out for the rest of my donut. “Delicious,” he responds. I laugh and hand it to him.

  Mrs. Calloway ruffles his hair. “You’re great with kids,” she then says to me. “Most guys your age don’t even bother with them.”

  I grab another peanut butter donut from the box. “I love kids. And most guys my age probably don’t give surf lessons to kids a couple times every week, for the last few years.”

  “You surf?” Rowan questions me. “Like in the ocean with the sharks?”

  “Sure do, and I’ve only seen one shark. I left him alone, so he left me alone. I see lots of dolphins though. Every day. I think we must be friends or something,” I declare.

  “I want to surf with the dolphins,” Rowan whispers.

  “I’ll teach you,” I say to him. “You too, Miles.”

  A big smile appears on his face. “Porter didn’t surf,” Miles says. “Porter didn’t even talk to us. You’re cooler than him.”

  Mrs. Calloway stifles a laugh, while Eva’s face turns bright red.

  “Thanks, buddy,” I say, and I really mean it.

  “How’d the night go?” Mrs. Calloway asks, changing the subject. “And what’s in the box?” she points behind her.

  Eva grabs a cinnamon donut and takes a little bite. “Night went fine. Everyone made it out of Dolly’s,” she tells her mom, forgetting to mention we weren’t there to see any of it. “The box, Lenora left me some photos, so we stopped to grab them.”

  “Let’s go play race cars,” Miles says to Rowan, pushing himself back from the table.

  Rowan follows him, donut in hand. “Thanks for the donuts,” he smiles to me as he walks away with his brother.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Mrs. Calloway waits until she hears them running up the stairs before turning to Eva. “I heard from your dad this morning.”

  Eva puts her donut down. “Yeah?”

  Mrs. Calloway nods. “He called. It was quick, and the reception was bad, but he’s okay. I told him about his office and the alarm. He was just as confused as I was. I also told him Henry came over about the boat. He said Henry knew he took his boat, and to stay away from the Channings. He was very firm that we need to stay away from the Channings.”

  Eva laughs under her breath. “Would’ve been nice for dad to realize this years and years ago. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know,” answers Mrs. Calloway. “He wouldn’t say. Said
he was taking care of a couple things and would be back in a few days.”

  Eva sighs. “Well, I’m glad he’s okay.”

  Mrs. Calloway takes a sip of her coffee. “The sheriff also called this morning. He wanted a list of everyone that has a key to our house. I told him just Henry Channing does.”

  “What’d he say about that?” I ask her.

  “He’s planning on questioning Henry sometime today,” she responds.

  Eva grunts. “That’s going to go well.”

  “He might want to talk to you too,” Mrs. Calloway says to her. “If Henry says anything about you and Porter to him … I think they’re looking for any motive on why someone would cut our phone line, or go searching through your dad’s office. You breaking up with Porter …”

  Eva looks up at her mom, and then to me. “I don’t want to talk to anyone about me and Porter.”

  “I know,” Mrs. Calloway nods.

  “Maybe the sheriff should talk to Porter himself,” she tells her. “And leave me out of it. Maybe Porter can tell him what an amazing boyfriend he was, or enlighten everyone with how wonderful his dad is.”

  I can see the question form in Mrs. Calloway’s mind before she says it out loud. “Does Porter know something we don’t?”

  Eva picks at her donut and responds with, “I think Porter has heard things over the last few years that he shouldn’t have. Just like me.”

  Mrs. Calloway nods and leaves it at that.

  “What did the sheriff say about the office?” I ask her. “Or the alarm? Anything?”

  She shakes her head. “They checked the security cameras from across the street, to see if they picked up anything unusual the day of the break in. We’ve never had security cameras here until now, so there’s not much I could help them with. I told them if someone broke in, it was between nine and eleven. After I left to pick up the boys, and before you two showed up.”

  “Nothing?” I question.

  “Nothing worth investigating further,” she responds. “Sharon Granger from across the street, her cameras picked up normal traffic during that time. Delivery trucks, random cars, a pickup truck that broke down, nothing too—”