by Elks, Carrie
“He’s really good looking too. For an older guy.” Ember turned to Ally. “Just how old is he, anyway?”
“I don’t know.” Ally’s brow crinkled. “That’s not the sort of thing you ask somebody.”
“He has a sixteen-year-old daughter. He has to be forty, right?” Brooke said. “Not that he looks much over thirty-five. Either way he’s hot.”
“He’s my boss,” Ally pointed out. She wanted this conversation to end now. Everything felt so jumbled up. She couldn’t live in her apartment, she couldn’t run. She couldn’t even work. And now her friends were talking about the one guy she was trying not to think about.
“Doesn’t mean you can’t look.”
“Or touch,” Ember added, grinning.
“Can we change the subject, please?” Ally snapped. Seeing her friend’s shocked expressions she immediately felt bad. “Sorry, I’m just a bit…” she trailed off, trying to find the right word. “Confused.”
“Confused?” Brooke echoed. “What about?”
Ally inhaled deeply, staring ahead at the ocean as it gently lapped against the shore. Her chest tightened at the thought of admitting her feelings out loud. As long as she kept them buried they weren’t real. But out in the open…
They could hurt her like a knife.
“Are you okay?” Ember asked softly. “You’ve got the strangest expression on your face.”
Another deep breath, this one so big it almost hurt her chest. Ember and Brooke were staring at her with pinched brows. They were her best friends. They’d kept each others’ secrets since kindergarten.
She could trust them, she knew that.
“I like him,” Ally said. “I like my boss.” And it was as simple and as complicated as that.
“Ohhhhh.” Brooke dragged the simple word out for a few syllables.
Ember gave her a sympathetic smile. “I could have told you that when we were in the hospital. In fact, I did tell you that if I remember correctly.”
“Telling is one thing,” Brooke said gently. “Realizing it for yourself is a whole other pack of cards.” She turned to look at Ally. “Does he know how you feel?”
“No.” Ally shook her head rapidly. “And I want to keep it that way. It’s just a stupid crush. I’d hate for him to find out.”
“Maybe you should relax and see where this goes. You never know, he might feel the same way as you do.” Ember shrugged.
Ally thought about last night and how he’d traced her cheek with his finger. Had that meant something? She wasn’t sure. All she knew was that he hadn’t done it again and yet she could feel the heat of his touch for hours.
“There’s nowhere good for this thing to go,” she told them. “He’s my boss, and we all know what they say about doing the deed where you eat. It’s asking for trouble.” She gave a little shudder. “But more importantly there’s Riley. She’s so vulnerable right now. She thinks I’m her friend, and what kind of friend goes behind your back and starts something up with your dad?”
“A bad friend?” Brooke suggested. Her voice was low, as though she really didn’t want to say it.
“Exactly.” Ally pressed her lips together, thinking about it. “Remember how I hated Marnie?” she asked them, reminding them of her dad’s ex-girlfriend. “And she hated me, too. It was awful and I could never do that to Riley.”
“You’re nothing like Marnie. She was just… ugh.” Ember shuddered. “And she was way too young to understand what you were going through. Let’s face it, she thought she’d signed up to live happily ever after with your dad, and then…” she trailed off. “You came along.”
“And brought all my baggage with me.” Ally hated thinking about those terrible days after her mom died. She could still remember the pain and the anger. All those arguments between her dad and Marnie when he told his girlfriend that his teenage daughter would be moving in with them. “And I could never do that to anybody else. Especially not Riley. She’s so hurt and lost, but underneath all that she’s a good kid. She deserves all her father’s attention.”
Brooke was holding Ally’s hand and she squeezed it gently. “But you’re not Marnie. Don’t you see? More than anybody you understand what Riley’s going through. You could be good for her, for both of them. If you’d just let yourself go.”
“I wish it was that easy,” Ally said.
“It is that easy. What’s stopping you?” Ember finished her coffee and put the cup on the table in front of them.
“The same thing that stopped you when you fell for Lucas, I expect,” Brooke said to Ember. “Fear.”
“I’m not afraid,” Ally protested, her brows knitting together. “What makes you say that? I’ve dated, I’ve had boyfriends. I’m not afraid of being with somebody.”
“When was the last time you had a serious relationship?” Brooke asked. She was always so gentle, and yet her words cut deep.
“I don’t know.” Ally bit her lip. “It’s been a while. Angel Sands is very short on good looking guys.” She glanced over at Ember. “Even you had to widen your search if I recall.”
“It’s not the good looking guys that’s the problem,” Brooke told her. “It’s the fact you didn’t feel very much for them.”
As much as Ally hated to admit it, she was right. Casual dating was easy when your heart wasn’t on the line. If you didn’t care if they led to another date or not. When you weren’t spending your time constantly checking your messages to see if they were thinking of you.
But there was nothing casual about the way she felt toward Nate. Seeing him every day made her leg muscles quiver with the need to run it off. It made her chest ache in a way she couldn’t ever remember feeling.
“I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice small. “So scared of getting hurt. Scared I’ll mess this up the way I mess everything up and I’ll end up at rock bottom again.” Her voice wobbled with emotion, and tears stung at her eyes.
“Oh, sweetie.” Brooke scooted off her chair and knelt in front of Ally’s, enveloping her in a hug. “Of course you’re scared. You’ve been through so much. But if you let fear stop you from doing anything you’ll never let yourself be open to happiness.”
“She’s right,” Ember said, her voice thick as though she was crying, too. “I should know. I was scared of telling Lucas how I felt. Imagine if I hadn’t. We wouldn’t be living together now.”
Ally wiped her tears away, not wanting to stain Brooke’s blouse. It felt strange to be this honest about her emotions. She’d spent more than a decade covering them up, not wanting people to see how she was really hurting inside. She never wanted to burden them with her fears.
Brooke leaned back, flipping her blonde hair over her shoulder before cupping Ally’s wet face with the palm of her hands. “You’re a catch,” she told her. “You’re beautiful, you’re funny, and you work harder than anybody I know. And even though you don’t like us to see it, we know how much you care. So does Riley, and she knows you won’t do anything to hurt her.”
“Of course you won’t,” Ember agreed. “It would be like hurting yourself. She’d be lucky to have somebody like you dating her dad.”
“I think we might be going too far here,” Ally said, her voice gritty with tears. “I have no idea how he feels about me.”
“Well the main thing right now is to decide what you feel,” Brooke said, smiling at her. “It’s the only thing you have control over.”
“You’re right. How did you get so wise?” Ally asked her, allowing her lips to curl up in a watery smile.
“At prenatal classes.” Brooke shrugged. “They take you aside and tell you all the secrets of the universe.” She folded her arms in front of her. “If you’d both just listen to me more often, you’d be a lot happier.”
Ally laughed again, and it felt good. She felt lighter, too, despite the cast on her leg. As though she could breathe easily again without worrying that her chest was going to explode. Maybe Brooke was right.
She had no idea how N
ate really felt about her. Whether that touch the other night meant anything at all. But maybe, just maybe, if she tried to relax and enjoy the ride, good things could happen too.
And if that didn’t work? Well at least she could blame Brooke and her damn prenatal classes.
13
Lifting her head from the pillow, Ally checked her watch. It was only 9 p.m., but fatigue was already weighing her down. The past few evenings she’d been like this – lethargic and slow after dinner, and then at midnight it was as though somebody had turned a switch on inside her and flooded her with lights. She’d sleep fitfully through the night, all ready to be tired again the next evening.
Maybe it had been a good thing Nate had been working late since Monday. Something to do with a quarterly business meeting with the bank, or so he’d told her as he ran out of the door early that morning, muttering something about needing to check some spreadsheets. By the time he’d gotten home in the evenings, she’d inevitably been in bed, and he’d wished her goodnight from the doorway – never once venturing into her bedroom.
Ally didn’t mind. She’d felt calmer ever since she’d talked with Ember and Brooke. There was no fight going on inside her anymore and it was liberating. Whatever happened with Nate happened. But she wasn’t going to resist the pull to him anymore.
“Hey.” Riley walked into her bedroom. “I’m bored. Want me to paint your toenails?” She lifted a bag full of brightly colored polishes.
Ally wiggled her toes. The movement didn’t hurt anymore. “How did you guess they needed painting?” she asked. “Is it something to do with all the chipped color on there?”
Riley shrugged. “Nope. I heard you complaining about your pedicure on the phone.”
Ah yes, she’d spoken to Ember earlier and moaned about not being able to make her feet look pretty. Thank God she hadn’t spoken about anything more personal. She made a note to herself – Riley had the hearing of an elephant. Or were they the ones with good memories? Ally wasn’t sure. All she knew was they had huge ears.
“So, what’s your favorite color?” Riley asked, pulling some bottles out. “I love black, but there’s this bright pink if you want to be girly.” She held up a pale taupe. “Or if you prefer neutral, I have this one. This was my mom’s favorite.”
She said it lightly, but Ally could detect the emotion in Riley’s voice. “Your mom had good taste.”
“Yeah, well.” Riley shrugged. “I’d guess you’re more of a pink kind of lady.”
Ally nodded. She really didn’t mind what color Riley used, but she was wary of saying the wrong thing. “You choose,” she said. “I’ll go with whatever you think is best.”
“Pink it is.” Riley pulled out a bottle of remover, shaking it before pressing it against a cotton pad. She rubbed the cotton against Ally’s big toenail. “You want me to trim them, too? I used to do Mom’s when…” she trailed off and looked away for a moment, before glancing back at Ally. “She said I did a good job.”
“That’d be great.”
“If you like your toenails, maybe I’ll do your hands tomorrow.”
Ally smiled. “That would be nice.”
Riley finished removing the polish and threw the cotton pads in the trash. Then she got to work with a nail file, shaping Ally’s toenails into soft squares with a rounded edge.
“How’s school?” Ally asked, as Riley massaged some foot cream into her skin.
“It’s okay.” Riley shrugged. “A couple of the girls I was at the cliff with apologized to me about trying to make me jump. Laura and Alice. They even asked me to sit with them at lunch.”
“They did? That’s great.”
“It was just lunch.” Riley shrugged. But the corner of her lip pulled up into a half smile. “They also asked me if I’d go to the movies with them on Saturday night.”
“Ooh. What are you going to see?”
“Probably nothing. Dad grounded me after you broke your ankle. I’m pretty sure he won’t let me go.”
“Oh.” Ally mashed her lips together. “That’s a shame.”
“I probably deserve worse.” Riley shrugged, but Ally could tell she was disappointed. “Anyway, I’m going to put a base coat on first, so this pink doesn’t stain your nails.” She pulled the bottle open and painted the clear polish on each of Ally’s toenails. “You have really pretty feet.” Riley frowned. “Well, foot. I can’t see the other one very much.”
“It’s almost the same as this one,” Ally said, wiggling the toes on her unharmed foot. “Except in mirror image.”
“Well, duh!”
The front door slammed, making both of them jump, and the shock made Riley’s hand brush the nail polish onto Ally’s big toe. “Frick. It’s lucky I’m still on the clear polish,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “Otherwise you’d have pink feet right now.”
“Anybody home?” Nate called out. Ally tried to ignore her body’s response to his deep, warm voice.
“We’re in Ally’s room,” Riley replied. A second later, he was standing in the doorway, a bemused expression on his face as he looked from Ally to his daughter. “Everything okay?” he asked.
“Fine. We cooked spaghetti,” Riley said. “There’s a plate in the refrigerator for you.”
“Oh right.” He blinked a couple of times. “Thanks.” He ran his thumb across his chin. From where she was sitting, Ally could see the shadow of beard growth that had come in since his morning shave. “I was going to order takeout.”
“No need. I asked Ally to show me how to make it, and now I know.” Riley grinned at her dad. “I can make it for you whenever you want.”
Nate turned to look at Ally. “What have you done with my real daughter?” he teased.
Riley groaned. “Dad.”
“I should work late more often,” Nate continued, ignoring her. “If it means I get to come home to this.”
“It’s just dinner,” Riley told him.
But Ally knew that wasn’t what he was talking about. She could tell from the expression on his face. The stubborn, gruff daughter had lightened up, for as long as teenage hormones permitted.
As if the universe was listening to Ally’s thoughts, Riley’s phone started to ring. She pulled it out of her pocket, her eyes widening when she looked at the screen.
“Hi, Laura. Just a minute, let me take this in my room.” She walked over to Nate. “You’re up,” she said, putting the bottle of pink polish she’d been holding into his hands. “Two coats and a topcoat, okay? And don’t let her move until it’s dry.” Without waiting for a reply she put the phone to her ear again, resuming her conversation with Laura. “Yeah, that assignment was tough. I managed to find all the answers though. Which one are you having trouble with?” Her voice faded as she walked down the hallway, then disappeared altogether after she slammed her bedroom door shut.
Ally bit down a smile and looked at Nate, who was still hovering in the doorway.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to paint my nails. I can probably manage if I bend over enough.”
He looked at the bottle Riley had shoved in his hands. “It’s a nice color.”
“Riley chose it.”
He took a step inside then hesitated, looking over at Ally. “Is it okay if I come in?” he asked.
“Of course it is. It’s your house.”
“But it’s your room.”
His words made her feel warm. As though she finally belonged somewhere.
“Come in. It’s nice to have the company.”
He walked up to the bed, and looked down at her feet. “Let’s do this thing,” he said, sitting down in the space his daughter had vacated. “I don’t want to incur the wrath of Riley.”
“Do you even know how to paint nails?” Ally asked, trying to keep her voice even. It felt so intimate, having him here in the room when she was wearing only a tank and sleep shorts. God only knew how much more intimate it would feel once he touched her.
And if he painted her toes, he’d definitely hav
e to touch her.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“I used to paint Riley’s when she was a little girl,” Nate admitted. “She’d insist on having beauty nights when she stayed over.”
“Did you let her paint yours?” Ally asked.
Nate shook the bottle and unscrewed the lid. “I’m gonna plead the fifth on that one.” He reached out for her good foot, sliding his palm beneath her sole. She held her breath for a moment as he gently pulled it toward him, resting her heel on his leg. “You have soft feet for a runner,” he told her.
“I try to take care of them,” she said, attempting to ignore the way his leg felt under her foot. Warm and muscled. “Apart from going head first over rocks that is.”
He gave a little laugh. She liked the way it sounded. “Could have happened to anybody,” he said.
“Nope. I’m pretty sure it’s just me.”
He angled her foot toward him, and pulled the brush out of the bottle, wiping the excess on the edge. He frowned with concentration as he painted her nail with three strokes.
“You do know what you’re doing,” she said, surprised at his deftness. “Most guys I know would have covered half my skin as well as my nail.”
“I’m a man of many talents.” He finished painting the rest of the nails on her good foot and eased it off his leg, pointing it upright so the polish didn’t smudge. “So how was your day?” he asked her. “Get up to anything good?”
“Oh, I managed to kill two hundred evil soldiers, save thirty children and their orphanage, and then I had a little nap.”
“All that with a broken leg. Impressive.”
“How about you?”
“I made some coffee.” He said it deadpan, but there was a smile at the corner of his eyes that made her heart take a little gallop.
He moved across to her other foot. This time he didn’t put it on his thigh. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”
“It’s fine. Riley did the base coat and I didn’t feel a thing.”
He painted her nails in quick succession, once again avoiding getting any on her skin. “I’ll let the first coat dry for a minute before I put the second on.” He replaced the lid on the polish. “That’s if you want a second coat.”