by Shey Stahl
He swallows. “He was just in town for spring break, and every year he comes back. He doesn’t know who I am, and honestly, I stay clear of him for fear I’ll actually kill him if I have the chance.”
I draw in a deep breath. “Have you guys talked about it since then?”
“No. I’m not one to hold grudges. It’s a waste of energy. We were young. She was sixteen when we got together. I was seventeen. Then one day we started growing apart. I thought maybe she wanted marriage. I even bought a ring. The night she left with Liam, I was going to propose to her.” Moving from where he was pacing around the living room, he sits down on the couch and I do the same. “When I saw her leave with him, I destroyed my dad’s bar.”
I gasp, my heart heavy and breaking for him.
He drops back against the couch, frustrated. “I threw the ring in the ocean, and it was over for me. She wanted to make it work after that, but… I couldn’t. Sometimes there’s things you just can’t fix.”
There are things in this world that can break your faith in love into pieces at someone’s feet. This is one of them. My heart aches for him, for Rylee, for me, and a little for Amara. Strangely.
Jake’s brow scrunches, his eyes watering. “God, I loved her so much. I would have forgiven her. I wanted to be blind to it. But she did it right in front of my face. She wanted me to see it. To hurt me. She held my heart in the palm of her hand, and I watched her strangle it.”
Reaching over, I rub his back, like I’d done for Rylee the other night. “I’m sorry, Jake. I never….” I draw in a heavy, shaking breath. “I’m such an asshole. I wasn’t thinking when I left with him. I was scared.”
“I can’t blame you for that.” He shrugs. “You didn’t know it was Liam, or anything about my situation.”
“Stop forgiving people so easily. There’s some things that are unforgivable.”
He stares at me, watching my face. “You should try it.”
“What?”
“Forgiving people. Especially yourself.”
I know exactly what he’s referring to. My mother.
“Why did you come after me then when I left with Liam?” I ask, needing to know. He let Amara go so easily. Why me?
His eyes meet mine as his face twists into a tight grimace of pain and regret. His head shakes. “I don’t know.” And then he asks, “What exactly did you want me to feel for you?”
I swallow, as if I’m trying to swallow sand. “I’m not sure, but I didn’t expect to feel anything for you.”
His eyes soften, and his head hangs. Staring at the floor for several seconds, he breathes out a shaky breath. “I never meant to hurt you, Kendall.”
“I meant to hurt you, as shitty as that sounds. Because I was scared of falling for you.”
He nods, as though he totally understands what I’m saying. “You leave in two days, right?”
I nod, my voice lost.
He turns, his hand on my thigh. “Go to dinner with me tomorrow tonight.”
“I don’t know, Jake.” I sigh, unease washing through me. “I just—” I stop when his fingers press to my lips.
“Don’t say no to me. I’m only asking to take you to dinner on your last night here.” And then he reaches down to the coffee table in front of the couch, retrieving his keys. “I’ll take you back to your hotel.”
On the back of his bike, leaning against him and with my cheek pressed to his back, I close my eyes and wonder if I will ever feel this way again about someone. I hurt for him, for me, for Rylee, for everyone who’s ever been hurt by someone with vicious intentions. I hate myself for leaving with Liam the other night, and even worse for how that must have made Jake feel. I often think that to love someone in the ways you need to, you need to have been broken before. Burned. It gives you the chance to heal and love in the ways you never thought you could. Think about it this way, or at least I have, say you get into a car accident. You braked too late, or maybe they did. Anyway, you get your car fixed, maybe got a ticket, and you’re back on the road. When you get behind the wheel again, you’re cautious, whether you know it or not. Maybe for good reason because you are more aware now. You know what the consequence is and what can happen. Those who have never been in a car accident can’t relate. They can see it and maybe even sympathize with you. But they don’t know until they’ve been there.
I hadn’t realized how much that mattered until tonight. Jake and I aren’t that opposite after all. We’ve both been in fender benders… only, instead of metal on metal, it was heartbreak on heartbreak.
1 part bourbon
1 part Southern Comfort®
1 part orange juice
1 part orgeat syrup
½ part fresh lime juice
1 dash Angostura bitters
Mix all ingredients together with ice, serve in a double rocks glass, garnish with an orange peel.
Jake Pierce is a lot of things I’m not. Complicated, undefined, things I will never be out of fear losing control. I say “fear” because I want to be like him. I want that freedom, but it terrifies me. There’s something so devastatingly beautiful about him.
Where one of us is scared, the other wasn’t. In a lot of ways, we balance each other, and that’s strange for me to understand because I’m the type of woman who doesn’t need anything to balance me. I balance myself.
The only problem is—you can’t keep those thoughts from your mind. Before I met Jake, I’d never known this feeling. I never knew it was possible to feel these things and break in the ways I have. I never knew what it felt like to feel a touch like his, a strong, addicting grip you would beg for, something you needed to breathe in the dark and guide you back to the emotional places being with him took you.
I spend the afternoon packing first, knowing I won’t have time later, and then getting ready for my evening with Jake. He wouldn’t tell me where he’s taking me, and part of me—okay, all of me—is nervous.
It’s the longest two hours ever as I wait for seven to come. I shower, shave, pluck hairs, and then work on my hair. Which is useless, considering as soon as I step outside, it will be ruined.
It’s like I’m getting ready for prom, constantly checking myself in the mirror obsessively and watching the clock. I stare at myself for a while in the huge mirror in the bathroom, wondering who I am. I look different in my eyes. My skin is a little more sun-kissed, as well as my heart. But you know who I don’t see? That isolated and overprotected girl I’d been growing up, and I have Jake to thank for that.
He sends me a text when he’s in the lobby, and I hurry downstairs. He’s waiting outside in the pull-through drive, and when I spot him, I can’t breathe. It’s worse because, like something out of a James Dean movie, he leans against the side of the car and crosses his arms over his chest. Jake knows when to be sexy and when to turn the appeal up a notch. Like now.
Relaxed against the side of the car, he has his right hand in the pocket of his black slacks and his left hand holding a cigarette to his lips. His white dress shirt has the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his tattoos, as well as the ones on his chest, since he’d left the top few buttons on his shirt open.
I blink a few times, unnerved by the fact that I’m leaving this tomorrow. Is he trying to make it harder for me? Oh, yeah. He’s getting even with me, I’m sure.
Walking to the car, I slip when my heel catches a rock, naturally. But Jake catches me, holding onto my elbows.
“I got you,” he whispers, pulling me into him, the smell of smoke and cologne surrounding me.
Oh, yeah. He has me, all right. He has me wrapped around his heart and body, forever.
“Are you okay, ma’am?” a bellboy asks, rushing to my side. I wave him off and keep my eyes on Jake.
Jake smiles, his eyes sad. “You look beautiful.”
“So do you.” I run my hand over the coarseness of his scruff.
Winking, he helps me to the car, where he opens the door to the jet-black Mercedes.
“Wh
ere the hell did you get this?”
He shrugs. “Stole it.”
“You did not.” I laugh, taking a seat. One by one I position my legs inside.
“So I tell you I stole a car—” he chuckles, holding back a smile, his eyes on my legs, “—and you call me a liar. How’s that right?”
“Because you wouldn’t steal a car.”
“You’re right. It’s my dad’s.”
Jogging around the other side, he gets in. He leaves the windows down as we drive. The air is warm and saturated, heavy, just like my heart.
“Where are we going?” I finally ask.
“There’s this place near Caves Point. Sapodilla’s.”
I nod but don’t say anything, my eyes taking in the turquoise waters below the bridge.
“I’m sorry about last night,” he says, reaching over to touch my thigh. “I shouldn’t have acted that way. It wasn’t… me.” There’s an undisclosed honesty and vulnerability in his every word. “It was a real shit move I pulled against the side of the house.”
Jake waits for me to speak, and knowing he’s waiting for it drives me back into the emotions I’d been feeling all day. I can barely get it out. Finally, I find the courage. “Jake—”
“Just let me get this out, okay?” Keeping one hand on the steering wheel, he touches my face with his left palm.
“Okay….”
He sounds sad, and I think I know what he’s going to say next. The realization that it’s coming tightens my throat and burns my eyes with tears I don’t want.
He waits until we pull up to the restaurant. Turning off the engine, he stares out the windshield as he speaks. “When you first walked into that bar, part of me knew exactly what you were looking for. I was ready to be that for you. I wasn’t lying when I said I would be anything you wanted. But then you came back the next day.” His voice has a hint of anger behind it you can’t miss. “I was actually upset that you came back the next day.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to be anything to me.”
“That doesn’t make any sense, Jake.”
“Listen to what I said.” He pauses, my eyes drifting to the blackness under his left eye, a reminder last night really happened. “I told you I would be anything you wanted. Not anything I wanted.”
The realization slowly hits me.
“I never wanted you to be anything to me,” he repeats, slower this time.
“After one night I meant something?”
Jake nods, his eyes on mine.
I don’t reply, and he doesn’t wait for one.
He’s quiet for a moment, staring at me, before he finally asks, “Were you with Liam? I have to know.”
“No.” I frown, thoughts of last night running through my mind. “I wasn’t.”
An audible sigh leaves his lips. The breath he’d been holding awaiting my response is enough of a reaction to calm both our nerves.
Had it really only been days? How could I have fallen so hard and so deeply in love with this man in such a short timespan? There’s a saying that goes something like “the heart knows what the heart wants,” and I think that, in this instance, both of our hearts were speaking the same language.
No words can touch this. Whatever these feelings mean, I know now there’s a place in this world that will be our special place… untouched and pristine like the tropical paradise we’re in. But how can we find a balance between what our hearts crave and need versus the reality that we live in?
Inside the restaurant, I’m once again in awe of the food here. Everything I taste is so amazing, and combined with the atmosphere and the live music, it’s everything I hoped for my last night here. I said this before, but there’s something so refreshing about Jake that I need. We both know that. The way he thinks, his incorrigible passion, and his take on life is something I needed to experience. I met him for a reason.
“I hate that I’m leaving tomorrow.” I sigh and blink slowly, taking in the dim lights and romance.
Sitting across from me, Jake reaches forward and runs his hand over my hair, keeping his eyes on mine, silently letting me know he’s listening to me.
“I’m scared that when my plane leaves, I’ll never feel like this again.”
He smirks. “You could stay.”
I contemplate my response because, believe it or not, I have thought about this a lot lately. “I can’t. I don’t really have a choice.”
He sits back in the chair, his head tilted to one side watching me. “There’s always a choice.”
“No—” I start to argue, and he smiles.
“Yes, there is. You can choose to make a choice. You can choose to be who you are or someone different. That’s on you. Don’t say it’s not, because you know I’m right.”
“I was talking about leaving, Jake. Not the choices I make about myself.”
“It’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.” I stumble around the words, caught off guard.
He regards me silently before speaking, tossing his napkin on the table. “Dance with me.”
“Right now?”
“Yes. Right now.”
I do, and as soon as he draws me near, his face presses into my cheek, followed by a soft kiss and a sigh.
We sway with little motion, my arms wrapped around his neck with my head on his shoulder. His head is bent forward, his lips at my exposed shoulder. “When you leave,” he mumbles, “I’m not going to know what to do without having someone to argue you with and tease.”
Pain shoots through my chest immediately. I’m going to miss him more than I can ever imagine. I don’t want this to end; this feeling has gripped my entire being. I want it forever. I want to bottle it and take it with his smiles and winks.
You don’t fall for someone like Jake and not feel it in every part of your body. He controls me. There, I said it. I’ve let him control me.
My hands shake as I pull back and look into sky blue, sadness dragging through me. I know what it’s like to lose control now. I know what it’s like to be so far gone you think there’s no return. I know that now because of this feeling I have in Jake’s arms.
“I don’t want to let you go.” His lips press into the side of my neck, whispering, “I’m gonna fucking miss you.” He draws back then, frames my face, his eyes on mine, a serious, soul-deep connection trying to be made.
I think if I would have asked him to, Jake would have begged me to stay. And I would have.
1 strawberry
2 parts tawny port
½ part lemon juice
½ part simple syrup
Muddle strawberry with lemon juice. Add remaining ingredients and ice. Shake well and strain into a double rocks glass. Garnish with a strawberry.
I spent the morning on the balcony with Rylee eating breakfast. We sit there talking for a few minutes. Then I sigh. “I don’t want to leave.”
There. I said it. I’d been thinking it for a while.
Rylee smiles. It’s the first one I’ve seen in a while. “We’ve talked about this. You know that you can be an assistant anywhere, right?”
“I know.” I shrug, watching the palm trees swaying in the breeze.
“But do you?” Rylee stares over at me. “It seems that you’re just settling for the fact that it won’t work out.”
I know exactly what she’s referring to. Jake. And staying here. Other than Rylee, what do I have that ties me to Phoenix? Nothing.
I can stay. I can take Stevie up on that job offer if I want to. “It might not work though.”
“But then again, it might.” Rylee always looks at the positive aspects of everything. A lot like Jake does. She wants me to see that, should I want to stay—and let’s face it, I do—that I can. “Now I need to go pack my shit. Meet us in the lobby?”
Nodding, I stare at my bags, which I’d packed last night. There’s one last thing I need to do before leaving. Say goodbye to Island Boy.
When I get to the bar, Ja
ke looks sad. The expression is genuine and seems to consume his eyes. He tries to wash it away, blinking, but doing that only makes it that much more obvious.
In eleven days, my life had changed completely. When I think of loving someone, I think of myself as holding a firecracker in my hand and that person has the lighter. Some people close their fists around the firecracker. Others just let it sit there knowing damn well they’re going to get burned, but wanting to limit the damage. People like Jake, they close their fists automatically. They don’t care and go into it knowing there’s a possibility of losing their hand, but they do it anyway.
Love is strange. It can break apart your life in ways you never thought and sink your soul. It can bring you to your knees and make you hate yourself for believing in it.
The moment I step foot on the deck, Jake spots me, his eyes following me as I sit down at the bar in front of him.
“I’ve got one last drink for you to try,” he says, smiling over the sadness.
“I’ve tried them all?”
He nods. “You have. But I have one more for you that’s not on the menu.”
“Okay, which one?”
His smile is there, but it isn’t anything like it had been that first night when I showed up in this bar. “Port of Call.”
“What’s in it?”
“A strawberry, tawny port, lemon juice, and simple syrup.”
I watch closely as he makes the drink, reminded of that first night. Him singing Boyz II Men, the body shots, our first kiss on the beach, and our night together. All great memories. It hurts to even think about leaving; I have to stop myself from reflecting for that reason.
We talk at the bar, I finish the drink, but I can tell he’s busy and I’m delaying the inevitable here. “I need to get going.”
Jake nods and comes around the other side of the bar. He puts his arm around me and leans closer, his breath hitting my skin as we walk to the edge of the deck. “I’m a selfish man, and I don’t want you to leave.”
Crap. I’m going to cry. Goddamn it. “I don’t want to leave, either.”
“Do you think you’ll ever come back?”