In Over Our Heads

by CJane Elliott

  Oh. My. God. The kid was delusional, for one thing. And it was sweet and flattering and all that, but I certainly wasn’t whoever he was making me out to be.

  I gave a semihysterical laugh. “Miles, doll. That’s so nice! But come on. You can do much better than me.”

  He ran his hands up my arms, giving me an embarrassingly fond look. “You sell yourself short, Tony. You’re incredible. And I wanna be the one to remind you of that, every single day.”

  Help! It was a silent cry to the universe. Get me out of this! The ocean waves crashed behind us, a constant roar and then pause, roar and pause.

  Knowing I was making matters worse by not cutting it off, I opened my mouth to deliver some home truths. “Listen. Miles. You’re fantastic, but you and me… that’s not going to happen. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

  “Why not?” Miles pooched out his lips into a delectable pout.

  “Because. I’m too old, I live in Boston, and I’m in love with your brother.”

  Miles blanched and reared back like the words had hit him in the face. “What did you just say?”

  I was asking myself the same thing, only louder, as in, What the fuck did I just say?

  “Um, wait. That is, I mean, what… that didn’t come out right. Not ‘in love’ kind of love, no, I… I used to care for him a lot. He made a big impact on my life, so of course seeing him again has stirred up all kinds of shit—emotions and baggage and all that—but I have no intention of… I mean, ‘love’ doesn’t really come into it. I don’t think.”

  I trailed off because my word vomit had only deepened the misery on Miles’s face, and I wasn’t getting any clearer about why that dratted phrase had escaped my lips.

  Miles let go of my hand and stared out to sea. “It’s always been this way. My whole life. Walter always got there first. Walter was the tortured genius, so when he’d come over, he got to have the living-room couch and his TV shows and whatever the fuck he needed to keep being a genius. While I—Mr. Lightweight—never amounted to anything. Modeling? What the fuck kind of work is that? So why should I be surprised that the first person I’ve been into in ages is already in love with Walter? Ha!” He gave a bitter laugh.

  “I’m sorry, Miles. You’re not a lightweight. Not at all. You’re just young.” At his wince, I hastily added, “Which is good! You’re just beginning to see what your life has to offer. My God, I sound like a pompous old fart. Believe me, you’re so far beyond where I was at twenty-two. I had no earthly clue beyond partying and hooking up. My only awards were in eyebrow shaping and blowjobs! By the way, your eyebrows are fabulous, and I mean that sincerely, babe.”

  His lips twitched, which I prayed meant he was suppressing a laugh.

  “So please forget about me as anything other than your ridiculously misguided older-man crush, one you’ll look back on with horror.”

  That did get a laugh out of him, although he got somber again too soon. Shaking his head, he said, “I’ll try.”

  “Good, doll. Believe me when I say I’d love nothing more than to jump your bones, but can we agree to leave it at friends and… and dance partners, and even drinking buddies, at least for the next week before I leave?”

  “I guess.” The trace of sadness in his face impelled me to keep talking—not like that was a rare occurrence or anything.

  “About your brother and me. I had no idea he was about to fall back into my life. And I doubt anything is going to come of it. I don’t even know if I want anything to come of it, but I’ll admit I’m still hung up on him. I’m kind of bummed at the timing, though.”

  “What do you mean?” The look he gave me was on the edge of vulnerable, just a wisp of hopefulness, and it about broke my heart.

  I gazed into his eyes. “It messed with me having what would have been the best booty call of my life with a fearless, fabulous, beautiful person.”

  Miles rolled his eyes and then averted them, but his lips curled into a definite smile for a second. I counted that as a win.

  He drove me to the condo in the red sports car and waited until I unlocked the door. Then he spoke. “Do me a favor, Tony.”

  “What’s that?”

  His gaze was piercing. “Talk to my brother. You two need to figure yourselves out.”

  The least I could do for sweet Miles was to agree. Besides, he was speaking the truth. It was beyond time for Walter and me to figure ourselves out.

  WALTER PEEKED out from the kitchen and watched Anthony leave with Miles. He hadn’t shown his face in the bar tonight, instead doing inventory in the supply room. After that he’d moved to the pantry and started putting cans on shelves. The truth was, Walter had wanted to avoid Anthony after upsetting him so much during the dive trip. He didn’t regret ensuring Anthony’s safety, but that thing he’d said to him on the boat? About not losing him again? Anthony had been right—it was out of line, especially when Walter was the one who’d left. If only Walter could explain…. But he’d never been great with words, and so here he was hiding out in the pantry while Anthony had some kind of date with Miles. Miles had even come in to ask Walter to stay at the houseboat tonight, “just in case.” Jesus God. Walter returned to the box of canned goods he’d been unpacking, hoping that stocking the pantry would provide a distraction from his unruly thoughts. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Anthony.

  Let it go, he advised himself. The dive is over and Anthony survived, so time to get back to normal. Anthony would be gone soon. Walter picked up a can of peaches and almost dropped it when a vivid picture of Anthony kissing Miles assaulted him. Stop. He needed to stop this obsession, but he had no discipline where Anthony was concerned. It was wreaking havoc on his well-being. He hadn’t had strong emotions in so long he had no idea what to do with them. They were storm clouds swirling around with no rhyme or reason, and Walter couldn’t seem to calm them, let alone control them.

  Take Miles, for example. From the time he’d intruded on Walter’s well-ordered life as a squawling baby, Miles had often irritated him, but never had Walter felt such lacerating anger toward him as in this past week. Ever since Anthony had shown up at Walter’s bar—against all-but-astronomical odds—and Miles had started hanging around him with his tongue hanging out, Walter had barely been able to see through the haze of jealous rage.

  It was completely illogical—Walter knew that—but logic and higher-level thinking hadn’t helped one percentage point. Walter had given up trying to chart the emotional storm he’d been experiencing. Too much, too frequent, and what was the point? It was like tracking weather. Charts had no effect on the occurrence itself.

  Reminded, Walter set the can on the shelf and grabbed his phone. He pulled up the weather channel and studied the trajectory of the threatening hurricane with a frown. It seemed to be gathering force as it hovered just beyond the Virgin Islands. Unpredictable course. As unpredictable as the lashings of Walter’s emotions.

  If the hurricane did make landfall on the Keys, Walter at least knew what to do with it—batten down the hatches and ride out the storm. That was akin to what he was trying to do with Anthony being around. Ride out the storm, betray nothing of the internal battering he was taking, and endure until Anthony left to go back to Boston.

  “You sticking around, boss?”

  Walter started at Bootsie’s voice and almost dropped the phone. “What?”

  “You don’t need to do that restocking now. Leave it and I’ll have Darren do it tomorrow.”

  He wanted to protest, but Walter was suddenly hit by a wave of weariness and realized he was done for tonight. “Thanks, Bootsie.”

  “No problem, boss.”

  Walter might have been done, but he was in no hurry to go home with nothing to distract him from his thoughts. He pulled himself a beer, sat at the bar, and spent another hour shooting the shit with Bootsie and some locals. Then he left, determined to get some sleep and think no more about Anthony Vallen.

  As he neared the houseboat with his bicycle,
the sight of a dark figure on the deck slowed his pace. Then he saw the glow of a cigarette and knew it was Miles.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Chilling.”

  For one wild moment he pictured Anthony inside (naked, in Walter’s bed, he and Miles having just….) and had to stop himself from asking where Anthony was as he walked onto the deck and locked the bike. No need to ask. Things must not have gone as Miles had hoped if he was here instead of with Anthony.

  Sitting on the other chair, Walter said, “Give me one of those.”

  Miles frowned at him. “You don’t smoke.”

  “I know. Give me one anyway.”

  Miles shrugged and handed one over, then lit it for him. “I want to go on the dive that Patricia’s doing on Saturday with the Pellegrini party.”

  “Sure, sure.” Walter inhaled, ignoring the protesting of his lungs, then paused. “Wait. Why? You don’t generally enjoy the scuba dives that much.”

  “I’m going to enjoy this one.” Miles waggled his eyebrows in a ridiculous manner. “Anthony’s going.”

  “To dive?”

  “Yep.”

  “I thought he said he wasn’t going to do another dive.” Walter’s stomach heaved. The cigarette wasn’t helping. He clamped down on the queasiness as Miles went on in an infuriatingly cheerful voice.

  “Well, he told me he loved the first one and wanted to do another… without interruptions, if you know what I mean.”

  Walter clenched his fist so he wouldn’t slap the brat. “And you want to go to… what? Ogle him in his wetsuit?”

  “Ooo, projection! You’re the one who wants to ogle him, right?”

  Walter felt his face turning to stone as humiliation ate at his insides. He took another drag, trying to ignore Miles, who seemed to be watching him for his reaction. Miles wasn’t usually this hateful about trying to get a rise out of Walter. Wait. That wasn’t logical. Miles didn’t know about Walter’s Anthony obsession.

  “Anyway, I thought it would be nice to tag along. Patricia is letting me dive with them!”

  “She needs a second person to stay on the boat!” Walter barked.

  “I know.” Miles’s tone was the equivalent of an eye roll. “Camila is coming too. I’d just like to go along, if that’s all right with you.”

  Walter bit down on his lower lip, hard, then released it. “Fine.” As soon as he finished this crappy cigarette, he was going to kick Miles out and get some sleep.

  Miles kept stealing glances at Walter until Walter couldn’t stand it.

  “What now? Why are you looking at me like that?”

  Miles fixed him with a steady gaze. “When are you going to stop torturing yourself and talk to Tony?”

  Tony. My God, but they were on cozy terms. “I’ve talked to him. We saw each other in the Daily Grind the other day. We talked.”

  “What about?”

  “What? Nothing important. Why?”

  “Because I think you should, like, really talk to him. About what you’re feeling for him.”

  “What I’m…. Why do you care, anyway? You’re the one who’s….” Walter smashed his cigarette into the ashtray.

  “Who’s… what? Who’s sleeping with him?”

  Little shit. Walter shrugged but couldn’t make his voice work to respond.

  “You’ve got it all wrong, Walter. And if you weren’t such a motherfucker, I’d explain things to you.”

  That got Walter’s attention. Miles could get exasperated with him, and often did, but he rarely called Walter names. “Explain what?”

  Miles stubbed out his cigarette and rose. “Forget it. You’re not worthy of a guy like Tony if you can’t figure some things out for yourself. So put that oversized brain of yours to work and figure it the fuck out.”

  He stalked down the gangplank and into the night, leaving Walter alone to seethe.

  Chapter TEN

  THE NEXT day I was sitting at a table in the coffee shop, putting the finishing touches on a sketch of a fisherman I’d made on my walk earlier, when Walter came in. To be honest, I’d been hoping to see him, despite the sourness between us at the end of the diving expedition. The man made me crazy at times, but still.

  The declaration that had burst out of me on the beach with Miles last night burned inside. In the light of day—and unimpaired by mojitos—I’d say “love” was going too far, but I couldn’t deny that I still wasn’t over Walter. No wonder I’d never wanted anything beyond the casual hookups and the Mr. Right Nows that had wandered in and out of my life. I’d been convinced I wasn’t interested in happily ever after, when all along a part of me had been waiting for my prince to return.

  Not that I was going to ever tell Walter this much. No way! Walter had dumped me twice, and I wasn’t going to give him another chance to tell me “it’s not you, it’s me.” Except… I looked at his broad shoulders and remembered the way it felt in the pool to have his hands on me, calming me down. I thought about Jonny’s and Sophia’s conviction that Walter still cared about me. But I also remembered Marco maintaining that Walter needed to make amends before anything else could happen. Yes. I hadn’t been waiting for my prince to return as much as I’d been waiting for him to throw himself at my feet and beg for forgiveness.

  I took a deep breath and tried to dispel those distracting thoughts as Walter walked to the counter and greeted Guillermo. Instead I focused on Walter’s hunky bod in his bathing shorts and tight tank top. He was so fine. Maybe I could screw him once or twice, casually, just to get him out of my system. Right, Anthony. In what universe would Walter and I ever be casual? When he saw me, he seemed worried, but his face cleared when I waved and pointed to the seat beside me, and damn if that didn’t melt me. Uncertain Walter got to me every time.

  “Hello there!” I called as he neared the table. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  Walter turned and studied the day outside the window. Lord, he took everything so seriously. “Yes,” he said with a decided nod. Oh, okay, glad we got that settled.

  “Take a load off and tell me what’s new.” I flashed him a hopefully appealing smile.

  “Not a whole lot. Working. You know.” The color rose in his cheeks as he sat. He took a sip of his coffee.

  “Not really. Tell me, what’s a typical day in the life of Walter Elkins?” I put my chin in my hands and assumed a rapt expression.

  The poor guy blushed more. He hated talking about himself. “Uh. Well. You’ve seen how the dive instruction goes. And the cruises. I don’t… um, normally I don’t do those myself, but I make sure they’re staffed and run properly.”

  “Why, yes. The ones we’ve done have gone so well! But that’s because you were doing them, I’m sure.”

  He hummed noncommittally, shifted in his seat, and tapped his fingers on his cup. “So, are you enjoying your vacation?”

  “Are you kidding? Key West is to die for! It truly is paradise.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily, though. “I’m still amazed you landed yourself here, of all the places in the world! How did that happen? But wait! Tell me why you left Boston first.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t really want to talk about Boston. Bad stuff happened at work, and when I left that job, my parents gave me such crap about it that I decided to get out of there completely. I’ve actually never been back.”

  “Oh, hon. You’re estranged from your parents?”

  “Yep.” He clamped his lips together for a moment. “They were mad I was going to throw away my career—you know, after they’d paid for MIT and all. Dad wasn’t so bad about it, but my mother was enraged. Then she wanted me to stay and join her commercial real estate firm. Like that was ever going to work. She hasn’t spoken to me since.”

  “I’m sorry.” Wanting to steer away from what was clearly a painful subject, I started babbling. “Parents are a challenge, that’s for sure. Did you know what a bastard Jonny’s father was to him and Marco? Of course you haven’t heard this!” I told him the
story of Frederick Vallen, Jonny’s horrible father, and his attempts to punish Jonny for falling in love with Marco. By the time I concluded with the happy ending of how Sophia and I had helped them to win their fight with Frederick, Walter seemed much more relaxed. “So tell me what happened after you left. I’m still dying to know how you got to Key West!”

  “Well, after I left Boston, I bummed around the world for about six months. Someone I met in Crete lived in Key West. She was a certified dive instructor and told me to come visit and check out the reef here.”

  “When did you start scuba diving? You never said anything about it back in high school.”

  “Yeah. I’ve always loved the ocean, though. Remember how I used to drag you out to the Cape?”

  “Yes, now that you mention it. I’ve been spending oodles of time on Cape Cod myself lately. Well, in the last few years. Jonny owns a cottage there.”

  “That’s good. The ocean is beautiful.” Walter’s eyes seemed dreamy as he looked at a seascape picture on the opposite wall. “I even thought at one point I wanted to be an oceanographer, but chemistry won out. Anyway, MIT has a scuba club.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “Hey, scuba diving is a big part of certain scientific endeavors, you know.” He gave that almost-smile. “And I like fish.”

  I couldn’t help squeezing his arm for a second. I’d almost forgotten how adorable he could be. “So you learned to dive at MIT, huh?”

  He stared at his arm where I’d touched it, then seemed to shake himself out of a daze. “Um. Yeah. I loved it. And when I met the gal from Key West and she invited me here, I figured why not? It wasn’t like I had any other plans at that point. I never thought I’d wind up owning a dive shop and bar, though.”

  “A very successful dive shop and bar.”

  He shrugged. “It’s been an experience. Or maybe I should say ‘experiment.’ I’m glad I did it.”