“You know, I’ve always hated that song,” I said.
He turned his head from the computer in exaggerated slow-motion and looked at me in disbelief.
I tucked my legs beneath me on my favorite plushy chair. “What?”
“Don’t you dare knock Jerome Kern.”
“Who’s Jerome Kern? The writer or something?”
He sat up, indignation splashed all over his face. “Yes, the writer! Geez, Ava.”
“Did he write the music or the lyrics?”
Eric opened his mouth, then closed it again. His brow furrowed.
“Ha! You don’t even know.” I got up from my chair and sat by Eric on the bed as he turned back to the computer, no doubt to look it up. “It’s not the music I have issues with, it’s the lyrics.”
He looked at me. “What’s wrong with the lyrics?”
“I dunno. The song just bugs me. Like the guy wants the girl to look the same forever. He doesn’t want her to change. It’s like he won’t love her when she looks different, which, duh, she’s going to eventually. It’s called ageing.”
“That’s not what the song’s about,” Eric protested. “It’s about a man wanting to remember one night, one perfect moment with his love, forever. He wants to capture it for later, when he’s depressed or having a hard time or something.”
“Yeah, but if they’re still together, what does he need that for? He’s got her. She can still cheer him up, even if she doesn’t look as young and beautiful as she used to.”
Eric looked into my eyes. “But what if he doesn’t have her anymore? Doesn’t he deserve that one beautiful memory?”
* * * * *
At the time, we were just having one of our usual disagreements over a song. Neither of us knew what would soon happen. Listening to the violins slide the tune from their strings in a ballroom that looked like heaven, I wanted to laugh at the memory. Or cry. I wasn’t the same now. So different he never would have known me. But I had that one perfect moment with him locked away.
I think that made me hate the song even more.
Maybe Eric carried a memory like that of me as well, of the way I looked one night a long time ago. It was all I could really ask for now.
A hand slid into mine. I turned my head. Dark brown eyes stared back at me. I felt a pang of disappointment that they weren’t Eric’s deep blue. And then I told myself to get it together.
“Dance with me,” Gage said. His lips moved in a way that was more inviting than the request.
I let him lead me onto the dance floor. He swept me into his arms, one hand sure on my back. We circled the floor and his eyes locked on mine, unwilling to let go. I searched his face, but I couldn’t shake the memory of Eric.
Gage seemed to sense my absence. He pressed his cheek on my head and started to hum. “Nice song. What is it?”
“‘The Way You Look Tonight.’” I closed my eyes. “By Jerome Kern.”
He let out a small snort of surprise. “A favorite?”
“I hate it, actually.” I looked up at Gage to see his eyes widen. “It’s a long story.”
“Ah. An ex.” His face softened. “Bad memories.”
“No. I’ve never liked the song, that’s all.”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me.”
I pressed my lips together. There was no point arguing.
“Let me help you forget.” Gage pressed his body into mine. My heart quickened, beating past the tempo of the song and our movements. The memory of that conversation with Eric began to slip away. For a second I considered grabbing it, clutching it to myself. Instead, I let it go and it wavered away. In front of me was only Gage.
“I want you for myself, Ava,” he said. “Now and always.”
My lips parted. Gage took the opportunity and filled the space, his lips blending with mine—a perfect kiss in a perfect ballroom against the backdrop of a song I despised.
In that moment, I couldn’t remember why I despised it.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Where are we going?” I stared out the window searching for clues. Between the shops, restaurants, and other entertainments, nothing stood out.
Gage parked the car in a random parking lot. Most of the vehicles around us had surf racks on their roofs and colorful bumper stickers on dirty fenders.
“You’ll see.” He shot me a grin before stepping out of the car. I followed suit as he popped the trunk. Inside sat a bag of groceries and a sports bag. It reminded me of our first date at the park. Gage pulled both from the trunk before slamming the lid shut.
“Follow me.”
He paid the meter and then we headed out of the parking lot and across the street where the land ended and the ocean began.
“The beach, huh?” Not very original for once, although I never said no to the beach.
“You think that’s the big surprise? Give me some credit.”
“Where then?”
He grinned again and flicked his eyebrows up and down. A few minutes later, as we wound our way down to the boat dock, I realized this wasn’t about the beach at all.
Gage removed his shoes and stepped carefully onto a sleek silver and blue speedboat. “Welcome aboard!”
“Wow.” I knew nothing about boats, but this thing, with all its shiny dials and leather seats, was beautiful. “Is this yours?” I asked, wondering how he could afford it.
He shook his head. “Borrowed it.” He offered me his hand. I took off my sandals, holding them with one hand and grabbing him with the other. I stepped onto the boat, stumbling just a little.
Gage grabbed me by the waist. My stomach fluttered. “Told you I would always catch you,” he said before pressing his lips to mine.
The boat was more amazing than I could have imagined. The back seats raised to reveal stairs that led to a teeny living space inside. Leather couches, a bed, a bathroom, mini-kitchen and even a TV waited for us underneath. After Gage showed me around and stowed the food in the fridge, we went back up. He started the boat, the engine purring like a kitten as we slid from the dock. He pushed the gear forward and we hurtled out into the open water. We were in the middle of nowhere in a matter of seconds. The thing was fast.
I laughed in delight, my hair whipping around in a frenzy. Gage drove us around the ocean, speeding and doing donuts—anything that might make me shriek. The yachts and sailboats we passed were little more than a blur. We left behind us a long white trail that quickly disappeared, leaving no trace that we had ever been there.
After a while, Gage slowed the boat and then put it to a full stop. “Ready for lunch?”
“Definitely.”
“Inside or out?”
“Outside.”
I helped Gage bring up our lunch, a mixture of cold wraps, fruit salad and water.
“I would have brought wine,” Gage said, relaxing onto one of the chairs, “but I know you don’t drink it.” He swallowed half a wrap with one bite.
After a minute, Gage said, “I packed you a bathing suit. In case you wanted to swim.”
I blinked. “One of mine?”
“Nah. I bought you one.”
That was a first. “How do you know if it will fit?”
“It will. And if it doesn’t…” His look was full of suggestion. “No one can see you this far out. Except me.”
When I saw the bathing suit he bought for me—a neon pink, teeny tiny bikini—I seriously considered throwing it overboard. It was the kind of suit Beth or Lacey would wear, not me.
I popped my head out of the hatch and held the bits of fabric in the air. “I don’t think I can wear this.”
“Why not?” Gage frowned. “Don’t you like it?”
“It’s a little skimpy.”
Gage leaned his face close to mine. “It’ll look great on you.” He kissed me, a de
ep and passionate kiss that left me breathless. The kind of kiss that let me know he wanted me out of my clothes altogether.
I came back up a few minutes later in the bikini, completely self-conscious. Gage’s mouth dropped open.
“Wow. You look incredible.”
I sat on the bench and stretched out under the sun, closing my eyes against his lingering gaze. I felt a hand brush up my leg toward my thigh. My eyes popped open.
Gage smiled at me. “Hey there.”
I leaned in and brushed a chaste kiss across his lips. “How about a swim? Do you think the water’s really cold?”
His smile faded a little. “Probably.”
“I’ll give it a shot anyway.” I balanced on the edge of the boat, then dove in. When my head broke the surface, I gasped.
“Cold?” he asked from his leather seat on the boat.
“Oh yeah.”
He snickered. “Have fun then.”
“You’re not coming in?”
He shook his head.
I stayed in the water for about twenty minutes, swimming, treading water or just floating on my back. The bottom was unreachable and I soon grew tired. Gage helped me back into the boat, wrapping a towel around my shivering body.
“I’m glad you’re back.”
“Why didn’t you come in with me?”
He shook his head. “Too cold.” He rubbed his hands vigorously over my arms to help me warm up.
“Baby,” I teased.
“Guess I am.” He looked me in the eye. “I’m your baby.”
“Seriously?”
“Come on.” He laughed. “You secretly love it.”
“About as much as I secretly love piranhas and eating gigantic tubs of butter.”
“Butter does a body good.”
“You tried that one on me already. You got it wrong both times.”
“Guess I’ll have to come up with something better.” Grabbing me around the waist, he pulled me down on the bench beside him. He tapped a finger on his lips, pretending to think. “What about, ‘I’ve got a thirst, baby, and you smell like Gatorade’?”
“Please. I can do better than that.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Bring it.”
I let the towel drop and faced him. Looking up from under my eyelashes, I bit my lip, then let my mouth slowly spread into a sexy grin.
Making my voice all breathy, I went in for the kill. “If you were a booger, I’d pick you first.”
He paused. Then burst out laughing.
“Terrible!” he exclaimed.
“As bad as yours.”
“No chance. Way worse!”
I pulled my towel around my shoulders. “Why don’t you try being sincere for once?” I said, half-serious.
“I’m almost always sincere around you.” He wrapped me in his arms. “You bring out the best in me, Ava. You’re a lot like my dad.”
“I think that’s the first time I’ve been compared to somebody’s father.”
“Don’t be offended,” he said hastily.
“I’m not.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “From the way you talk of him, it sounds like he was a great man.”
“He was.”
The boat rocked, a gentle sway. I settled into him, draping my legs over his, trying to draw his warmth into my own body. Like a gourmet meal, I wanted to savor the feel of his skin against mine.
“Even though he was so busy, he always made time for me.” His fingers trailed back and forth over my leg. “Even when I was young. He would try his hardest to be at home at night so we could have dinner together, or help me with my homework. He didn’t want me to be alone.”
“What happened to your mom?”
“She left when I was little.”
I put my hand over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath my palm. “I’m sorry.” I knew what it was like, how hard it could be to grow up without a mother.
“My dad never made me feel like I was missing out. Sometimes, we’d talk late into the night, even when I should’ve been in bed. He always had the best advice.”
His fingers skipped up my leg, over my hip and across my stomach. I reveled in the sensation, the trail of fire his touch left behind.
“I want so much to be the kind of man he was. I hope I can live up to that. I hope I can make him proud.”
“I’m sure you already have.”
He shrugged and looked away.
“Guess what?” I said, changing the subject, hoping to put a smile back on his face. “I got a job!”
His face lit up. “What is it?”
“I’ve been offered two teaching jobs, one at USC, and one at an arts high school in LA.” Much to my surprise, I’d nailed both interviews. Making the decision had been tough, but I was excited to have an actual job, hopefully the start of a career. I felt so adult.
The grin faded. “Teaching.” He said it like a curse.
I stiffened. “Yeah, teaching.”
“You took the USC job though, right?”
“Wrong.”
“You’re not serious. High school?”
I scooted away from him on the bench, withdrawing my hand from his chest. “I’m one hundred percent serious. I thought a lot about it. USC pays more, and I suppose it’s more prestigious. But it’s not where I want to be.”
He shook his head, his stare incredulous. “You’ve thought a lot about it? For what, five seconds?”
I stood abruptly but stumbled at the rocking of the boat. Turning away from Gage, I steadied myself on the back of the captain’s chair.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be…” His voice trailed off behind me.
Obnoxious? Condescending?
“I just don’t understand why. Teaching high school, it’s so…”
I spun to face him. “So what?”
His eyes darted as he searched for an answer. And then he squared his shoulders. “Unambitious. You’re better than that, Ava.”
Gage was insanely hot as always, but something new had appeared. Nothing had changed about him physically, but a different man stood before me. A man who cared more about status than merit.
Right then in Gage I saw the parts of Aunt Rose, and my Dad and Beth that I hated the most. The parts that had forced me away from them.
“Take me back.”
“Ava.” He stepped forward, holding his arms out. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad.”
“Just take me back.”
“No. I’m so sorry.” He tried to pull me into his embrace but I resisted. “If teaching high school is what you want to do then great. I’m happy for you.” He tilted my head up with one finger. “Honestly, I’m just worried that it will take you away from me. That we won’t be able to see each other as much. You ever hear how much overtime those people have to put in?” He leaned his forehead against mine. “That scares me, more than you know.”
His lips caught mine and though I was hesitant at first, I didn’t resist. The kiss tasted both fruity-sweet and ocean-salty. His arms tightened around me and he drew me down onto the bench and into his lap. My mind fought against the man I worried he might be, but my body had other ideas. It gave in to his touch. Our kisses sped up and his hands roamed over my back. Slowly, he started to lean over me, gently pushing me down onto the leather seats.
His skin was hot against mine, his hands trailing fire down my arms and over my hips. An ache spread from my chest to my stomach and lower, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, eager to bring him even closer. He burrowed his face in my neck, his tongue drew lines over my skin and I shivered.
“Ava,” Gage moaned.
Eric.
I froze. My eyes popped open. His lips left my skin and he looked up at me in confusion.
“Sorry,” I managed while trying to find
my own breath again. I put my hands against his chest and pushed him away.
He sat back, letting me go, his face unreadable.
I sat up, embarrassment covered me with an awkward burn. At least I hadn’t said Eric’s name out loud.
“What’s wrong?” Gage said behind me. His hand rested on my shoulder.
I didn’t want to turn around and look at him, afraid he’d somehow see Eric in my eyes. “Sorry. I just can’t—”
“Don’t worry about it.” He sighed, his breath tickling my shoulder. “Ava, please. Look at me.”
I turned around and slowly raised my eyes to his.
“It’s okay.” He gave me a tight smile. It didn’t seem okay. “Let’s go for a swim.” He went to the edge of the boat, struck a pose that made me laugh, and then back flipped into the water.
I hesitated. Thoughts of Eric swirled through my brain and I wanted to run away from them, and from Gage. Eric never cared about being low class. Eric wouldn’t disapprove of teaching. There was more to Eric than his fame. What about Gage?
Things I didn’t want to acknowledge tried to push their way to the forefront. Nervous panic settled in the pit of my stomach. I was stuck on a boat and had nowhere to go. Trapped and confused.
Gage popped his head out of the water. “Coming?”
I pushed all thoughts of Eric aside. My feet teetered on the edge of the boat. In that moment, I had no choice but to take the plunge. I just hoped that once I did, I would figure out which way was up.
Chapter Twenty-Four
On my way to my next orchestra performance, my phone rang from somewhere in my bag. I reached over to the passenger seat and dug inside, cursing that I’d brought my huge Chloe bag instead of one of my smaller purses. By the time I found it, I’d missed the call.
It was Aunt Rose. I hesitated, but finally decided I’d better call her back.
“Sorry,” I said when she picked up. “I’m driving and I couldn’t get to my phone in time.”
She spoke right over me. “Ava, I have wonderful news.”
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