“I think it’s obvious I’m not the one hitting the pipe.”
“Let the record reflect, you’re the one who wanted a break. Okay? I swear, you can drive a guy absolutely frickin’ nuts. Just being around you is like—it’s like—”
“Like what?” she demanded to know. “Because no one is asking you to be around me, Matt! I only came over here to get a beer. You’re free to go.”
“I realize that,” he said, narrowing his eyes sharply. “But some people don’t just run away from every little conflict or difficult conversation.”
“Oh, and I do? Is that what you’re saying?”
“Actually no. You said it—not me.”
His sudden calm demeanor only infuriated her even more, especially when he was kind of right.
“You act like you want certain things, Rory…with me, or with us. You give every sign and indication and then, suddenly, when we’re actually close to maybe being at that place? You don’t.”
“If you want to talk about repeating patterns of behavior, Matt, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror!”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?”
“It’s like you go out of your way to choose the biggest bimbos you can find, like you enjoy parading them around wherever I’m going to be. Maybe that’s what you really want. I don’t know. Either way, it’s kind of pathetic if you ask me.”
“Yeah, like that’s really my criteria—what would Rory think? Talk about an exercise in futility. We’ve been broken up for how long now? And I still have no idea what you want from me.”
“It’s simple. Nothing. That’s what I want from you. Okay?”
“See, you say that.” His eyes narrowed again. “Yet then you do things like get pissed off every time you think I might be kissing someone else.”
“I couldn’t care less who you kiss.”
“That didn’t seem to be the case when you were home last. Of course, you were the one doing the kissing then.”
Her lips parted, eyes narrowed, instantly betrayed by the flush of heat creeping up her face.
“Really? Because I seem to recall it the other way around. You were kissing me. In fact, if you want to talk past history, Matt, it’s almost like you’re physically incapable of not kissing me.”
He gave her a look to indicate she might be hitting below the belt, but Rory didn’t care.
“Funny how I seem to be resisting the urge just fine right now,” he shot back with a scowl. “In fact, my lips couldn’t be happier at the moment—way over here, nowhere remotely near yours. My lips are actually whistling they’re so happy not to be kissing you.”
With that, he began to blow out the notes of an upbeat musical tune. One eyebrow arched, Rory only watched him for a moment with a deeply disturbed frown.
“You should really talk to somebody,” she muttered finally.
“Maybe I will!” he said without missing a beat. “Because that’s just one more thing my lips would rather be doing!”
She rolled her eyes, shoving her cup of beer at him before turning away. “Speaking of things I’d rather be doing.”
His shoulders slumped, glancing down at the cup in his hand with some confusion. “Where are you going?
“Anywhere you’re not!” she tossed back over her shoulder.
“Fine!” he shouted back. “Because I won’t want to kiss you there either!”
Rory stopped, lifting her hands to let them drop.
“You know, you are just so…”
“So what?”
Turning around, she marched straight back to him. Grabbing the front of his shirt in both her fists, she lifted up on her toes while pulling him down, her mouth meeting his in a searing, soul-baring lock of lips.
***
Rory rolled over, adjusting the down pillow under her head to gaze up at the ripples of sunlight on the ceiling, listening to the soft crash of the surf. Stretching her legs to slide against the cool cotton sheets, she moved to the edge of the bed to dig through her bag for her phone.
There was a message from Jonathan, as expected, probably asking when she would be arriving back in New York. But Rory wasn’t going back yet.
Dialing work, she maneuvered her way through the somewhat complicated voicemail system until she reached her manager, and then the human resources manager, to leave messages that she would be taking some time off due to an unexpected family emergency. She realized no one was going to appreciate this abrupt short notice, and supposed the fact she was lying about it all would be appreciated even less.
She then scanned down to a more familiar number.
“Hey.” Jill sounded groggy and a little out of sorts.
“Did I wake you?” Rory asked.
“No.” She paused to yawn. “I’ve been up for a while. Trevor just left to take his parents to the airport and I think the sheer overwhelming sense of relief momentarily exhausted me. How’s your day going so far?”
“So far? It sucks.”
“Can you be more specific?”
“Not really. It sucks in general.” Rory ran her hand through her long hair as she sighed, hesitating a moment before she continued in a lower voice. “I met her finally—Amanda. I ran in to them downtown.”
“With your car?”
“No.” She rolled her eyes. “Not with my car.”
Jill laughed sleepily.
“Well, how did that go?”
“I don’t know.” Rory exhaled slowly, watching the bedroom curtain rise and fall in the breezy salt air. “It was like…they looked like a couple. I guess I didn’t expect that.”
“Engagements have been known to do that to people.”
“And so there’s this party this afternoon,” Rory continued, “at her parents’ house. I guess it’s sort of a pre-wedding meet and greet for the families and friends. And I have to go.”
“Matt asked you to?”
“No. Amanda is the one who invited me.”
“And, you’re going?”
“Well, yeah,” she replied with a reluctant frown. “Now I have to.”
“Of course, you do,” agreed Jill. “It’s too late now to get off that collision course with catastrophe you set for yourself.”
Rory tilted her head, hearing sounds of movement from the kitchen.
“I’ll call you later?”
“Yeah, okay. Let me know how it goes.”
***
Trudging tiredly down the steps from his apartment, Matt emerged out onto the sunny morning. He rubbed his hand over his shower damp hair, approaching his truck parked curbside on the street. He needed to stop by the bar, pick up some ice and cases of beer and wine, make sure his employees were all set with coverage for the day’s shifts, and then head over to the Benson’s to help set up.
In fact, Matt had so much to do to get ready for the party later this afternoon, it occurred to him he should probably stop wasting so much time worrying and wondering if Rory was going to be at it.
Heaving out a quiet sigh, he drove away past the crowded summer marina. There was a new place on Water Street right around the corner that opened just before Memorial Day. The owners had gone with a tropical beach decor, with lots of theme parties and watered-down cocktails in plastic cups. They weren’t really playing to their audience, as it were—perhaps better suited to a spring break locale than the small, quintessential New England harbor town of lobsters and prepsters. So far they weren’t giving him much competition.
Slowing to a stop at the intersection, he glanced over to check the place out. This weekend it was a beach party volleyball theme. There were a few guys outside now, raking the sand across their outdoor patio.
Watching them, he briefly drifted off into his thoughts.
***
Anger and defiance were easily conquered in the clash of passion and, instead of standing his ground, Matt felt his knees buckle, totally unprepared for the rush of heat and energy she could still ignite within him. Once again, the friction between them sp
arked a fire of an entirely different kind.
He knew he was probably going to run into her tonight, here at his brother’s party, but couldn’t have predicted it would be with his lips.
Matt tried to fight it, struggling against every natural urge and instinct before finally letting go to fling himself on the flames. His hands traveled all over that smooth, soft skin in warm caresses, fisting strands of her long, silky hair, his tongue sliding hungrily against hers.
She still drove him crazy, in every sense of the word. Things had changed, but that had not. He never knew what she wanted, and half the time he didn’t know whether he wanted to be fighting with her or kissing her.
When Rory broke away with a gasp, she simply pushed him off and turned to go. Speechless, Matt could only stare after her as she disappeared back into crush of party guests crowding the sand-covered courtyard. He would have to amend that.
Given the choice, it would always be the kissing.
***
Zipping up a sweatshirt over her tank top and pajama shorts, Rory walked out into the kitchen.
“Good morning!” Danny glanced up from the stove. “How did you sleep?”
“Great, thanks.” She said, slowing to a stop as she placed her hands on her hips. He had three pans going at once. Mrs. O’Shea had taught her sons well. “Look at all this.”
“Kevin told me you went out and bought all these groceries.” He grinned. “Hope you don’t mind.”
“Are you kidding? I was hoping someone might put them to good use.”
“Well, it’s almost ready. Grab yourself some coffee and relax.”
Rory poured herself a cup, wandering over to the kitchen table to curl up in one of the seats.
Eileen came breezing down the stairs a moment later in running shorts, typically fit and athletic, her hair smoothed back into a ponytail. She stopped short when she saw her.
“Oh, Rory, you’re still here. I didn’t realize you were staying past the weekend.”
She gave her a small smile over her coffee mug.
“Good morning, Eileen.”
In the past, she’d often felt a weird sense of competition, even jealousy, coming from Danny’s longtime (and long-suffering) girlfriend. Though she was fairly certain she didn’t do anything to inspire such feelings, Rory had a sneaking suspicion it might have something to do with the way his parents always treated her. In the O’Shea household, Rory might as well have been another daughter.
Eileen had nothing to worry about now, however. Those days were long over. Rory wasn’t sure if Matt’s parents even liked her anymore.
Kevin came shuffling into the kitchen next, yawning loudly as he walked past Danny to the coffee. He gave Rory a sleepy grin as he dropped down into the chair next to her with his mug, resting his head on her shoulder.
“So, what’s the deal today?” He glanced back towards Danny at the stove. “How are we supposed to dress for this shindig? Yard formal? Or lawn casual?”
“You tell me,” he said with a low laugh.
Kevin turned back to Rory. “Hey, Joshua is actually coming today, just for a little while. He was glad to hear you’d be there, too.”
“You’re coming to the party, Rory?” Eileen butted in to ask.
“Um, yeah.” She hesitated. “I guess. Amanda was nice enough to invite me.”
“I’ll say,” Eileen replied with a little laugh. It seemed like she tried to make it sound like a joke, but that might have been giving her too much credit. “Does she not mind about you and Matt? Or does she not know?”
“I’m…I’m not really sure,” Rory answered in a smaller voice, sneaking a glance at Danny. His face was almost too impassive, nearly expressionless, as if he were trying not to show any visible reaction at all.
Suddenly, the sound of the door pulled her from her thoughts and then Matt himself appeared in the kitchen. He looked especially handsome, freshly showered, his dark hair still slightly damp, wearing tan chinos and a pale blue polo shirt.
His gaze was directed only at her, past everyone else, as he smiled tentatively.
“Hey.”
“Hi,” she replied softly, managing a smile as well.
There was an unspoken apology exchanged in that moment, a truce called, but it certainly didn’t make Rory feel any better. In fact, being reminded of just how simple it used to be, when they were that close, only made the hurt worse.
There is a unique dialogue that arises from childhood friendships, a shorthand language of looks and gestures that evolves over the years. Perhaps at first a result of the impatience and meager attention span that marks that youthful period, saving each other the time and effort of unneeded and lengthy explanations. Then, more intimately, you might grow to know someone so well that words become sort of unnecessary.
Rory never knew how much she might someday regret all the things they used to never have to say.
Danny glanced over at him. “Want some breakfast?”
“Nah, thanks. I can’t stay,” Matt said, lifting his hand to rub it over his hair, causing some of it to stand up in boyish spikes in a way that made Rory’s heart melt just a little. “I’ve got Amanda waiting. I just wanted to make sure you guys were all set for today? You know how to get there, right?”
“It’s right off Rock Harbor Road, isn’t it?”
“Yep, third house down on the beach side. The one with the circular drive,” he confirmed, motioning towards the door. “I’m going out there now to help set up.”
“See ya there, bro,” Kevin called out.
Matt started to leave but paused in the doorway. “Rory, we’ll see you there, too?”
She smiled and nodded, wishing her answers for him had always been this easy, and wondering how different things might be right now if they had been.
EIGHT
Thunder and lightning cracked overhead, rumbling across the gray sky as rain-soaked clouds rolled in over the beach bluff.
They hopped and skidded over slippery rocks, trying not to land in the murky depths between. The waves crashed around them with increasing fury, churning up the rising tide into angry, spitting foam. At one point Rory felt her foot sliding back, her wet flip-flops offering no traction, but Matt quickly grabbed her hand, dragging her after him.
It had been Murph’s grand idea, on this steamy hot afternoon, to sneak a quick dip in the crystal cool blue pool of one of the luxury homes in the summer enclave out past Rock Harbor Road. The house was unoccupied for the week; he was sure of that. His uncle was a landscaper in the exclusive neighborhood, which supposedly privileged him to this insider information.
Of course Rory was reluctant at first, but it was one of those sweltering days when it felt like the air was too thick to even breathe, the breezes all disappearing out to sea.
As she feared, they did end up caught—only it wasn’t by a person. In one moment, while the others practiced their dives off the board, she was immersed in the refreshing blue, treading water and gazing out beyond the manicured lawn at the bright town harbor and hazy sky. In the next, they were scrambling for their discarded things, an ominous mountain of dark clouds moving in to snuff out the sun and light up the sky in electric sparks.
A deluge of rain followed instantly, pouring down buckets on their heads. They’d originally hopped the back fence along the craggy coastal rocks to get into the secured backyard of the waterfront home, and were forced to flee in the same way.
Loud shouts came from somewhere, something about private property, which caused them to scatter. Murph and Johnny ran one way; Matt and Rory the other.
He held her hand tight, giving her a boost up to higher ground as the stormy sea swept in. “Over there!” He pointed. “Come on.”
Rory saw that they were headed directly into the backyard of another private property.
“Matt—no!” She tried to hold him back. “We’re just going to get into trouble!”
He threw a brief grin over his shoulder, dark hair matted to his head as the
angry sky swirled behind him. “Meaning we aren’t already?” He then tilted his head towards the house. “Look.”
Rory did as instructed, noticing that the windows of the large mansion were all boarded up. She finally acclimated herself to where they were and realized this was the old Seaview Inn at the end of the bluff, currently up for sale. The main house looked fairly impenetrable, but there was a row of tiny attached guest cottages out back. She didn’t even want to question how Matt managed to get one door unlocked.
Blowing out a soggy sigh once they were safely inside, she swiped the damp hair out of her eyes.
“This is what I get for hanging out with a bunch of boys.”
Matt regarded her with a faint grin before he edged over to the window. Dark clouds completely blanketed the horizon of ocean and sky, stretching as far as the eye could see.
“Well, better get comfortable,” he said, dropping his nylon cinched backpack to the floor. “This doesn’t look like it’s going to let up for a while.”
“Great.”
Hunching her shoulders together, Rory wrapped her arms around her chest to glance around. Dark shadows collected in the corners of the musty room. She flinched as another lightning bolt ripped across the sky outside with a flash of that eerie light.
“This is even worse than the pool,” she pointed out. “This is officially trespassing, Matt.”
He just shrugged it off, checking out their accommodations. “Desperate times…” He gave her a quick glance. “You should probably get out of those wet clothes.”
She threw him a small smirk over her shoulder. “Nice try.”
“I’m serious. It’s not helping any, and it’s not like you don’t have anything on underneath. We can hang them up to dry.”
Rory had to admit she wasn’t very comfortable. Matt came over to help her peel off her wet shirt, easing it over her head, before she dropped her tiny shorts to the floor. He draped each item over the sink basin and cramped shower stall in the tiny adjoining bathroom, removing his own shirt as well to hang it on the doorknob.
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