by L. J. Evans
We made our way down to the sand, barefoot, heading south along the shore. The mugginess almost as heavy as the air between us.
“What’s in Nashville?” he asked finally. He had been listening to the conversation with Lacey. I realized that Eli really listened all the time. To words. To bodies. To life.
“I have a job and classes already set up.”
“How’d you get a job without being there?”
“Andy. He’s got a brother that owns a coffee shop. It has open mic nights on Wednesdays, and employees get preference.”
“Do you have a place to stay already?”
“Are you always this practical?”
He stopped, and I stopped with him. He didn’t look at me, though; he looked out at the sea. Melancholy in a way that didn’t fit him. He’d been serious and commanding, but sad had never really rippled off of him until now.
“After my dad died, I had to grow up fairly quickly. Mom did her best, but she was struggling too, and even with the death benefits, things could get tight. Mom had always had a minimum wage job at a bookstore, mostly to get out of the house, but after he died, it was our main income. We kind of took care of each other. So practical was kind of built into me.”
My heart stopped and started as I watched him, watch the sea, compassion and understanding filling me. Except I hadn’t been forced to grow up too fast. Instead, my dad had practically refused to let me grow up at all.
“Did your dad die in the Coast Guard?” I almost didn’t need to ask. It was so obvious now that he said his dad had died.
He nodded.
“Got shot boarding a drug boat.”
I could still hear the loss in his voice. The anger. The sadness. But it didn’t match his expression, which was blank.
“How old were you?”
“Ten.”
I’d seen compassion in his eyes last night when Mac had asked about my mom, but now I knew that it had been empathy and not sympathy. He felt the loss as much as I did.
He turned and looked down at me, eyes dark from the sun’s disappearing path and from his emotions. “At least I got to know him a little.”
I shrugged. It was a reference to my mom. I turned and started back the way we’d come, and his long legs easily caught up to me.
“The thing that sucks most is not being able to talk to anyone about her. She has some cousins still alive, but Dad didn’t stay in touch with any of them. I think he burned out his welcome with the family.”
“How do you know that? You were a baby.”
“I know my dad. I see how he is with anyone in a power position. I’ve seen the pictures. Whenever my grandfather is in them, my dad is right next to him, beaming as if he’s just met the pope.”
“Who was your granddad?”
“A senator. From North Carolina.”
“Is that supposed to be a big deal?”
I looked up at him in surprise and saw that rare Eli smile on his face. He was teasing me, bringing us back from our serious moments.
“Well, it’s not as big as being “The Boy Who Lived,” but it’s pretty big around these parts.”
He frowned.
“Have you even read Harry Potter?” I asked.
“Sure, but it was a while ago.”
“Like how long ago?”
“Ten years?”
“Do you even read at all?”
“I just told you my mom worked at a bookstore. How can you even ask that question?” he asked.
“That doesn’t mean you have to read. What’s your favorite book?”
“Case Closed, Volume Six,” he responded immediately. My turn to stop.
“Wait, like a comic book?” I was trying not to laugh, but I could see this was not going to go over well. He wasn’t going to take my making fun of his favorite book lightly.
“It’s manga,” he sighed. “And if you tell the guys, I will have to murder you in your sleep.”
I lost it, laughing so hard that I had to double over to catch my breath, and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms, and he was charging toward the water. The waves hit me, splashing on my skin and clothes. Once we got deep enough, he dropped me.
I hit the water, and the coolness took my breath for a moment, reminding my body of the loss of air from yesterday and the sore muscles that I had because of it. I was still smiling.
I sunk to the bottom, holding my breath and waiting. Eventually, I felt his arms reach down and pull me to the surface.
My smile widened when I saw the worry on his face. My smile turned his worry into a growl, and he pushed me under again.
I came up splashing this time, soaking him from head to toe as much as I was soaked. My clothes were clinging to me just as his T-shirt was clinging to him, outlining his cuts and contours as the sun set behind us, turning the sky pink and purple.
I thought to myself, There will never be another moment like this. Full of wants and desires and loss and freedom and hope. So much hope.
Before I could even think about it, I leaped into his arms, where he caught me as if I’d always been doing just that. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck and planted my salty lips against his.
His lips opened in surprise but were still stiff and unyielding, all the reasons why we shouldn’t still floating on the air between us. I just didn’t care. I wanted this moment. This kiss. I slipped my tongue into his mouth and was rewarded with a groan.
His arms tightened around me. Giving in. Returning my kiss with ferocity. The energy that had throbbed between us becoming this one huge torrential wave that was igniting into a hurricane force.
He tasted of salt and beer and salsa. He tasted like a place I’d never known I needed. His tongue took control of mine, demanding more, demanding all of me. Taking things I’d never known I could give. Soul. Heart. Life. His kiss returned things, too. His soul. His heart. My body burned with desire, as if there would never be enough time for us to assuage the need in us.
I don’t know how long we stood there, wet, bodies twined together, tongues dancing in the twilight, and hearts meeting somewhere in between. Finally, he started to slow the pace of our dance and then removed his lips from mine.
He buried his face in my neck, breathing me in like I seemed to breathe him in.
“You’re beautiful, Ava.”
His low, gritty voice could barely be heard over the crash of the waves. I heard the “but” in his voice without him having said it. I turned my face slightly so that I could place a kiss on his head that was still nestled against my skin.
“Don’t freak out, Mr. Grumpy. It was just a kiss.” I tried to lighten the mood. But the truth was, we both knew that it hadn’t been just a kiss. It was souls speaking. It was lives blending. And it was going to tear us both apart when we said goodbye after knowing each other a mere three days.
He squeezed me so tight that I thought I’d lose everything that was me and simply become part of him. Then, he let me go, and I slid down him, feet landing in the ocean once more, body wavering so that he had to catch me at the waist to steady me again. As he had since I’d met him.
I realized that I needed that. Someone to steady my torrents. To stop me from going over the rail. I’d never had it. I’d just had my dad forcing me to live the life he wanted and never preparing me for the life I wanted.
Our eyes found each other’s again. We stared for what might have been a hundred and eighty seconds or maybe more. Finally, I caved, reaching down and swooping up a handful of water, splashing him once more before I took off toward the shore and the beach house. And he let me go.
Chapter Nine
Eli
LITTLE MORE SUMMERTIME
“She might have stayed forever
And never ever left these arms
If only I…
Had a little more summertime.”
—Performed by Jason Aldean
—Written by Flow
ers / Martin / Lee Mobley
I watched Ava walk down the beach toward the house, and I purposefully waited until she’d hit the shell path before I made my way out of the water to the sand. My body was awake in every possible, painful way. Just with a kiss.
A kiss that had seemed to take every sane thought from my head and replaced it only with desire. Desire to know every piece of her, inside and out. A kiss that had been unlike any other kiss I had ever shared with a woman in my life. There’d always been desire, but not the passion and out-of-control feeling that I’d had with Ava. Never. I’d always been in control.
Now, I was hard, uncomfortable, and regretful at the same time. I shouldn’t have kissed her back. I shouldn’t have let her think there could ever be more than that kiss. Even that had been too much.
You mean too little, my body said. My mind answered back its own chant: enlistment contract, enlistment contract, enlistment contract.
I groaned and headed for the house.
When I got there, she’d already started the shower. I grabbed dry clothes from the drawer and hesitated by the bathroom door, my hand reaching for the handle, knowing what waited on the other side. More kissing. More skin. More Ava. More life. More freedom.
My hand shook at the thought of tasting her lips again, of tasting more of her skin, of hearing that husky voice say my name as I touched all of her.
My phone rang.
The water turned off.
“Eli?” Ava called out.
“Just getting clothes. I’m going to shower in the guys’ bath.”
Silence. A battle she was fighting herself on the other side of the door. Maybe just like me. Hands shaking. Desire coursing through her.
My phone again.
It was Mom.
I turned and left, heading into the guys’ bathroom, before answering it.
“Hey, Mom,” I said, fighting for control of all my emotions and desire.
“Hi. You okay?”
I ran my hand over my head. No.
“Yeah, just got back from a run on the beach. What’s up?”
“Can’t I just call to hear your voice?”
“Of course you can, but you never do at nine o’clock on a Thursday. Why aren’t you at Leena’s Bunko night?”
“She’s in Kansas. Her mom’s dying. Only has a few more days.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Will you let her know for me?”
“That’s actually why I’m calling. I think I’m going to go out there to help her get through those last days. Help her with the funeral and going through all her mom’s things. I’m going to be there for a few weeks.”
“That’s good. I’m glad you’re going.” Leena had been a lifeline to us when Dad died. She’d been my babysitter and second mom. She’d made sure my mom didn’t come to a full stop. Leena was part of our family, and now she was losing part of hers. In many ways, I wanted to be there, too.
“Anyway, I might not be back by the time you get into port in Massachusetts.”
My stomach clenched. I was looking forward to seeing her at the end of the cruise. Both of them. The plan had been for her to drive up from New London to get me when we docked in Buzzard’s Bay. I’d wanted to stay with her for a few days before catching a flight back to Texas.
“It’s okay. I’ll just see if I can change my flight.”
“I miss you,” she said. I knew it was true. Just like I knew that she was going to help Leena for legitimate reasons, but I also knew that she hated seeing me in my uniform. Hated that I was following in Dad’s footsteps. That she didn’t want to see me walk off a ship.
“We’ll figure out a way to see each other before Christmas,” I told her.
She was quiet. “I love you, Doodles.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
Then we hung up. We did love each other, and we told each other almost everything. Just not the things that might make the other person sad. We’d gotten so good at making sure each of us survived the loss we both still felt in our lives to this day that we’d drifted into a place of perpetual “goodness.”
I showered and made my way out to the main room, expecting Ava to be sitting on the coffee table. Except she wasn’t. I walked back to the master bedroom. The lights were off, and I could see the shape of her, on her side, in the bed. I stood there, staring at it. Wanting to join her. Wanting to feel again that vibrancy—that life—that I’d felt when I’d kissed her. That I hadn’t felt in so long that I’d forgotten what it felt like. To feel free with nothing tethering you to the dock.
I took a step toward the bed, and the sheet stopped moving its regular rhythm, as if she was holding her breath. Then I thought of my mom, and everything she’d lost because of the Coast Guard, and how it would be unfair to bring someone into that life. I thought of how close I was to making my own dreams come true, and I turned and left, shutting the door quietly behind me.
I sank down on the couch. My mom thought I was just joining because of Dad, as a way to honor the man I’d lost, and that was true. She’d also thought that because we lived in New London, where life revolved around the Coast Guard and the Coast Guard Academy, I hadn’t experienced anything else. It’s why she made me promise not to go to college there, even though I could have gotten a full ride.
She wasn’t thrilled when I accepted the A&M offer, but she was happy that I’d at least gotten out of Connecticut. She’d been hoping that I’d see something that would drag me away from my quest. The truth was, I wasn’t just doing this because of Dad. I’d always felt a calling to the sea—to the water. And also, to service. To do for others.
It was what I’d wanted with every breath of me since before Dad had died. It was just stronger after he’d gone. Another layer of meaning added to the desire.
I laid my head on the back of the couch and closed my eyes. I was exhausted. I felt more tired than if I’d been on the boat for eight weeks.
I felt like I’d disappointed two women tonight, even though the disappointment my mom felt had been running between us for almost four years. Ava’s disappointment in me was fresh. A wound that I knew I’d regret years from now no matter which way I had let the situation go.
If I’d joined her in that bed and then she’d left, or I’d left, I would have regretted that. To have that intimacy, to touch her soul and then leave… that would have hung over me for years. But somehow, not joining her, not melding our souls, was equally painful.
When I finally dozed off, the turmoil in my brain turned into fitful dreams of my dad, and the ocean, and something I couldn’t reach in order to save him.
I woke to my phone ringing and that dream still in the air. I hadn’t had a dream about my dad since I was in high school. Not in a long time. They usually came when I was making big decisions. I wasn’t sure how sleeping or not sleeping with a girl could be a big decision, but as soon as I thought it, I knew it was a lie. Ava was a huge decision. Life altering.
I couldn’t go down that path. I wouldn’t.
I answered the phone without looking. “Hello?”
“Cadet Wyatt?”
I sat up. It was Professor Abrams. Ava’s dad. Shit.
“Yes, sir.”
“One question. Did my daughter, Ava, show up there?”
I hesitated way too long, and it cost me.
“Goddamn it,” he hissed into the phone. “Why didn’t you contact me?”
“I wasn’t aware you didn’t know, sir.” The lie fell from my lips before I could stop myself. Protecting my own ass. Protecting Ava’s. I wasn’t sure.
“Because I’d really send my teenage daughter to a beach house with three stupid-ass male recruits. What kind of father do you think I am?”
An asshole of one, my brain said as I bit my tongue. I didn’t know everything that had gone down between Ava and him. Only that she felt the need to run away. That there was fear and anger and hurt in her eyes when she thought of him.
He didn’t seem to care that I hadn’t responded. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in less than four hours. You tell her that if she ever wants to see one penny of her trust fund, she better be there when I get there.”
I grunted in surprise at his tone, his anger, and his words. Still unsure how to reply, I said nothing.
“You got that, Cadet?”
“Yes, sir.”
He hung up.
“Shit.”
I was on my feet and into the bedroom with Ava before I could even think. My bursting through the door jerked Ava out of her slumber. She sat up, eyes wide.
“What?”
“Your dad.”
Panic hit her eyes. I’d never seen such terror on her joyful face. “He’s here?”
“No. But he’s on his way. He said less than four hours.”
Fear radiated from her. I wondered again if he’d done something to her—physically. Panic invaded my soul at the thought. After a moment of stunned silence, she jumped out of the bed, her bare legs and her butt cheeks greeting me. Her graceful sway drawing me toward her as she started stuffing her belongings into the suitcase she’d left open on the floor.
I stilled her hands with my own, worry coursing through me. I had to ask. Had to ask what he’d done to cause this strong, carefree woman to panic. My thoughts were not pleasant ones. Abuse could come in so many forms. “Ava. He didn’t… He doesn’t…”
The words evaded me.
She shook her head, looking down at my hands and then back to my eyes. “No.”
But it was quiet. I wasn’t sure if I believed her. And I’d never not believed her. She was nineteen. She was old enough to be on her own. I didn’t get it. I didn’t get the fear.
“You’ve run away. You’re afraid. Why?”
She pulled away from me, going back to stuffing her case. “He’s controlled my whole life. Every detail of my day. Every moment had to be accounted for. He’d check my phone. My GPS. If I was ever anywhere he hadn’t said I could be, I’d be grounded for weeks at a time. He’d take away my phone, my keys, my guitar. The only time I ever got to breathe away from him was when I was with Jenna.”