The Weight of Forever: (Grand Harbor: Book Two)
Page 6
“Why did you bring me here?”
I stared back at him, feeling his question inside of my head as if it held some deeper meaning. Yet, there wasn’t. He couldn’t hurt me here. He was just simply passing through, like a storm.
“I brought you here because you asked me to,” I replied softly. “No one has ever asked me that before. And also…because you’re temporary. You said so yourself. That means this spot will never have to save me from you. That changes things.” I offered a weak smile, but I knew it wasn’t convincing. I believed him earlier, though. He’d never settled down anywhere before. What were his exact words? Staying in one place made him feel stuck. No temporary boy could affect my forever spot.
“Right,” he said quietly.
Chapter 5
My shift at the bar passed by quickly and was pretty uneventful. Weeknights were pretty tame, and although I didn’t make as much as I did on the weekends, I still did okay. I texted Miles around 1:15 to let him know I was cleaning things up and should be finished in the next twenty minutes. Sure enough, about fifteen minutes later, he walked into the bar holding a giant plastic package.
“What’s all that?” I gestured toward the bag.
“Burgers from Josie’s, which we’re going to eat in your living room.”
I cracked a smile. “That’s what you really want to do?”
“No man alive is going to turn down eating burgers with a gorgeous girl in yoga pants. It’s everything we dream about.”
“Let me grab my bag.” I laughed, reaching down under the bottom shelf behind the bar where I kept my purse. “I’m out of here, Blaze. Thanks for closing. Have a good night.”
“See you Friday night, hun,” he replied, wiping down the counter.
We headed out the front door. “That guy, with all the muscles and tattoos, his name is Blaze?” I thought I detected a hint of jealousy in his voice as he asked, but I wasn’t certain.
“No, it’s just a nickname. His real name is Kent, but that didn’t sound tough enough for a bouncer, so the owner gave him a nickname. He does that to everyone.”
“Yeah? What’s your nickname?”
“No, it’s embarrassing. We don’t need to go there. Hey, can we do something real quick?” I had to change the subject. “The storms, remember? It’s getting windy. I want to show you something, follow me.”
“I’ll come with you, but only if you agree to tell me your nickname when we’re done.”
“Fine,” I said begrudgingly. “But you can’t chicken out. You have to do exactly what I tell you to do.”
“You have my attention,” he replied with a skeptical grin.
“Put the food in the car. Hang on one sec.” I ran back into the bar, grabbing a couple of towels from the back room. I rejoined Miles, grabbing his hand, leading him over to the pier across the street.
“Tell me we’re not jumping in.”
“No way, people die all the time doing that. I’m not totally crazy - just a little. This is mild, I promise.” We walked down the pier and I set the towels down on a small bench along the way. The wind was picking up and the waves were violently crashing into the side of the pier.
“This seems like a terrible idea,” he shouted back in the wind.
“Just trust me. It’ll only take a second.”
We walked down toward the end of the pier, and I squeezed his hand. “Stand still. Wait for it.”
“Wait for wh…”
As he said it, a giant wave crashed over the end of the pier, spraying us with water.
“It’s freezing!” He was still smiling nonetheless. Our hair was dripping with water beads, and I loved the joy on his face as he looked back at me.
“This used to be one of my favorite things to do as a kid,” I said nostalgically. “It’s even more fun if you close your eyes, so you can’t see it coming.”
“You were right, you are a little crazy,” he teased. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me in.
His clothes were completely wet, and sure, it was a little cold, but I didn’t care. He leaned in to kiss me, right as another wave crashed into the pier. We were sprayed with water again.
“Now we’re soaked,” he said with a laugh.
“Good thing I have a dryer.” I raised my eyebrows suggestively.
“All of a sudden, I think I like storms too.” He kissed me, then escorted us back down the pier, away from the water. The wind chilled my skin. We grabbed the towels, wrapping them tightly around us. We climbed into his car and he cranked the heater.
“Now you have to keep up your end of the deal. You have to tell me that nickname.”
“Great, here we go. He calls me Kitten. It’s dumb, see? No one else calls me that. He’s just an old, strange guy. He’s like eighty, and barely ever comes in.”
“Kitten,” he repeated with a stupid, animated grin.
“Don’t you dare.”
“It’s kind of adorable.”
“There is nothing adorable about it,” I said in a mocking tone. “If you ever call me that, I’m not answering. I’m serious, it’s a stupid name. Don’t do it.”
“Then what should I call you?” He pulled out of the parking lot.
“Olivia always works,” I teased. “No need to get creative. Livi is fine too, but that’s it. If you call me by an animal name, this is over.”
“But everyone calls you Olivia,” he replied, shaking his head as we made the short drive back to my apartment.
“Isn’t that the point of a name?”
“I’m not everybody,” he snickered. “I’m temporary, remember? Like a henna tattoo that you’re just going to eventually wash away. I think that means I should get my own temporary nickname for you.”
“This sounds like a bad idea.” I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Ollie,” he stated, pulling into my apartment lot.
“Not a chance. I was named after my Uncle Oliver, who they all call Ollie. Until I’m a fifty-five year old man with unruly ear hair, I’m not feeling it. Olivia. Say it with me. It’s simple. Easy. O-liv-ia.”
“V.” He nodded, looking proud of himself as he shut off the engine. “I’m calling you V.” He leaned over and kissed me.
“You’re relentless.”
“Good thing it’s only temporary.”
*****
The sunlight filtering in through the kitchen window woke me up. I always remembered to close my shades before bed, but clearly I wasn’t in my bedroom. Instead I was wrapped up in a blanket on the living room floor. I rolled over, just to find myself staring at the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen. His hair was messy in all the right places, mainly because I recalled my fingers being the source of said mess, and his skin looked soft in the sunlight. His nose twitched ever so slightly as he quietly breathed. His bare, strong arms were wrapped around his pillow and he looked like a dream I couldn’t wake up from.
What was I doing? This guy was nothing but trouble. His past sounded questionable, and his career sounded shady as hell. An investor at twenty-five? Was that even a thing? I had so many questions, but staring into his eyes every time we spoke, I forgot to ask the right ones. This whole notion that he was just passing through – I clung to that, as if that was my only rationale to be going through with any of this in the first place. We could keep it casual, right? He had no roots. No plans. Unfortunately he had no flaws either when it came to how he made me feel. He was kind. Funny. Gentle. Honest. Seemingly perfect. That face.
Dammit. This all still felt like a trap. Worse than that, I wasn’t all that bothered by that thought.
“V,” he whispered, reaching out a hand to me. His fingers traced around my shoulder.
“Good morning,” I said somewhat awkwardly, unsure as to how we got so comfortable with each other so quickly. Living room sleepovers? Nicknames? This was spiraling out of control. “Do you have to be at work or something?” The mere fact that I didn’t even know the answer to that question proved this was moving too fast.
“Are you always like this?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, comfortable? Nonchalant? Unaffected?”
“What? Unaffected? What makes you think I’m unaffected…”
“Because I’m over here freaking out, wondering what on earth we’re doing here, temporarily, and you’re like…thinking about brunch.”
“Sweet Pete, I love brunch. I make the best pancakes. I need a pan.”
“That’s what I mean!” I didn’t mean to raise my voice, but he wasn’t helping me. “You pick me up from work in the middle of the night, and give nicknames, and make pancakes, and you drive an adorable sports car, and you, your chiseled torso, and your face…”
“Are we just listing things in a haphazard order? You have cool pillows on your couch. They’re insanely soft, which I find comforting. And your hair smells good. Like really good.”
“Stop,” I giggled. “You’re making this hard.”
“Watch your adjectives. It’s early.”
“Don’t be funny either. You’re just adding to the list, and that makes this difficult.”
“The way I see it, there is nothing difficult about this. You actually make this pretty easy.” He pulled me in and kissed me.
“That’s because I’m pretending.” I slowly pulled away from him. “I know, it’s only been like thirty-six hours and I’m overreacting. I get that. But truthfully, I’m not good at any of this. I’m emotional, and crazy, and I feel all the feels. I pretend to do ‘casual,’ but really that just means I’m saying everything is okay to your face while talking bad about you to my friends when you don’t call. I know this to be true, because it’s what I’ve been doing. For years. I finally decided I was ready to give all that up, and then forty-five seconds later I ran into you. Literally, your chest hit my face in the parking lot outside the bar as I was swearing off men. What are the odds? Besides, you’re leaving, so this is supposed to be laid back. No big deal. But I know myself, and I know I’m not good at casual. It makes me sad all the time, and I hate it.”
“Then casual is off the table.” He sat up and grabbed my hand. “What do you want, Olivia Prescott? Say it.”
“What if I don’t know the answer to that?”
“Everyone knows the answer, V. People are just too afraid sometimes to say it out loud. What do you want? You should never be afraid to say it. It’s not like wishing on a star or a birthday candle, where if you say it aloud, that means it can’t come true. You just have to say it.”
“It doesn’t work like that.”
“But it does.”
“How do you know? Do you have everything you want?” I stared squarely back at him, expecting him to hesitate before answering – but he didn’t.
“I thought I did when I woke up this morning.”
“What?”
“I looked at you, and I thought yes, this is it. Finally. But honestly, now you’re scaring me.”
“You couldn’t possibly know that yet,” I said bashfully. “We barely know each other.”
“That’s kind of the point.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I think people have it all wrong,” he continued. “Everyone is so focused on knowing all the answers. When people meet each other, they always wonder if he or she is ‘the one’ or whatever, right? I hear women talk about that notion all the time, but I don’t think that’s how it works. It’s not about when you know, but it’s about never not knowing. You could be that girl – the one who’s supposed to tilt my entire world. The girl who’s supposed to make me see everything differently. The one I can’t imagine life without. Or maybe you’re not. But until I’m certain you’re not, I’m all in. It’s not about knowing you’re the one. I don’t think it really happens that way. It’s about giving it your all until you know they’re not.”
“Who are you?”
“Tell me what you want, V.”
“I want to believe everything you just said,” I said softly.
“So believe it.”
“I want to wake up like this all the time, without questioning what I’m doing. I want to eat hamburgers at two in the morning, and stand outside in the middle of a storm, and I want to you to call me V, because you’re right, no one ever has before so that makes it completely yours, and I want so much more to be yours already, even though that seems completely insane.”
“What else?”
“I want you to tell me you’re not leaving Grand Harbor. I want you to tell me you’re staying. I don’t want this to be temporary, I want this to be real. Transparent. Honest.”
“It can be all of those things, V,” he replied, whispering into my ear. “If that’s what you want, it’s yours. All of it.”
“You’ll stay?”
“If you ask me to, I will.”
“Stay.” It was barely a whisper, but I felt the words exit my lips.
He responded by leaning forward, pressing his mouth to mine. His lips were warm, intense, and I wanted every bit of it. It wasn’t just his words that reeled me in. When his hands touched me, I felt what he felt. He made me smile until my face hurt. He made me feel like I really could be myself, without pretending to be perfect or unaffected by the things happening around me. All of that mattered.
One average morning, before any brunch – just like that, we were all in.
Chapter 6
Girls night in at Lexi’s place was my favorite weekly tradition. We would eat cookie dough, drink cheap wine, and cry together at chick flicks we’d seen dozens of times. I loved that we had no intentions of changing plans, even when we were dating. That didn’t matter to us, and we never picked a guy over these nights together, and anyone we were seeing would simply have to understand that. We loved our time together and I was so thankful that would never change, no matter what else we had going on in our lives.
“So, you and Miles…” Lexi commented as Sophia thumbed through the movies.
“It still feels too good to be true,” I admitted. “It’s like there has to be a catch, but I haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Stop trying to find a way out,” Sophia cut in. “You do this, Olivia. Every time. There are good guys out there you know. For once just let go and trust that you found one. It’s so much better that way.”
“I know, he’s just…he’s amazing. It’s hard not to question it all. I’m so scared to wake up one day and realize he’s not this insanely incredible person.”
“Just cut him some slack, on the chance he does in fact have an imperfection or two,” Lexi stated, handing each of us a glass of pink sparkling wine.
“I know, I have plenty myself,” I admitted. “No doubt he has his own. It’s just hard to feel settled about it.”
“Those are butterflies,” Sophia chimed in, “and it’s the best part. Don’t look back.” We clinked our glasses together and Lexi hit play on the movie.
Just like that – the world was exactly as it should be.
*****
“You’ve never played beach volleyball?” I stared back at Miles in disbelief.
“Did I mention I’m from Utah? So no, the rest of the world, people who’ve also lived in, say, Idaho for example, like myself, they aren’t necessarily well versed when it comes to beach sports. I understand the game, I’ve just never played.”
“He’s on your team, Olivia,” Lance joked, grabbing a ball from our towels spread out on the sand. This was the first weekend we’d all hang out together, outside of our brief encounter at the art show, and I was really excited about it.
“Fine, then we get Nathan,” I pointed, peeling off my swim wrap.
“Y’all are going down,” Nathan replied jovially. He was six-foot-five, so undoubtedly he was an asset. “Three on three, let’s go. Sorry, Lex, but we’re not lovers right now. Forgive me for whatever happens.” He kissed Lexi briefly and sent her to th
e other side of the court. “Game on.”
We must’ve played at least seven games. The sun was high and felt good on our skin, and everyone was in great spirits, like always. We had so many laughs, as many good plays as bad ones, and the teams were pretty evenly matched. For never having played beach volleyball before, Miles was naturally athletic, and he did just fine. He fit in extremely well with the group, and I was so grateful for that.
Later that evening we went out for tacos and margaritas at a small local restaurant next to the water. We had wonderful conversation, and Miles really opened up to all of them as they asked him questions.
“You lived in Arizona before this? Where else have you lived?” Lance asked as we waited for our food.
“Everywhere, it seems. California, Idaho, both Carolinas, Florida, Georgia. Even a brief stint in Kansas. Indiana is the farthest north I’ve ever been,” Miles explained. “Until Grand Harbor, or course. Lake Michigan is more like the ocean. It’s insane how big it is. It reminds me of California a little bit, other than the cold.”
“Later this summer, let’s take a boat over to Chicago,” Sophia suggested. “Maybe we can spend a long weekend there. Wait until you see Lake Michigan from Navy Pier. There’s this massive beautiful glowing skyline in one direction, and then endless water out in front of you as you turn around the other way. It’s incredible.” Everyone agreed, though we didn’t set a firm date just yet. We threw around the idea of a Chicago weekend in early September. I loved talking about future plans like this, but it also seemed so far away. I loved the way Miles seemed on board with it though, despite how far out it was.
We eventually parted ways with the group after dinner, and Miles and I discussed where to head next.
“There’s a decent band playing at Schmitty’s tonight,” I suggested. “We can check it out.”
“I actually have to work later tonight,” Miles replied, checking his phone.
“You work this late at night?”
“It’s kind of like a networking event,” he said cautiously. “It’s up the North Sixty, at one of those big houses on the hill.”