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Chasing the High

Page 11

by Beth Michele


  I smacked the laptop closed with more force than I’d intended and rifled through my bag, pulling out the Stephen King book. Through the sliders, the glare of the sun bounced off the cover and I took it as a sign. Getting lost in a book was always a good escape for me and now wasn’t any different. Except when I finally got comfortable on one of the deck chairs, all I could picture was Drew’s grin as he asked me for the fifth time if I’d finished reading the damn book. I let out a frustrated groan and shrunk into the lounger.

  It hit me then, how much I missed my sister. She had always been my best friend, my confidant. And now, when I needed to ease the weight sitting on my chest, she was the one I wanted to talk to.

  I dashed inside to retrieve my phone, coming right back out into the sunshine. Sliding my finger across the screen, I pulled up the Viber app and scrolled down for her name.

  Me: MIA

  Mia: SAMMMMMM

  I smiled, plopping down on the chair.

  Me: What’s up, Tiny?

  Mia: Oh, I don’t know. Just another exciting day in NYC. I’m at a restaurant waiting for Nikki, we’re having a late lunch. How’s paradise?

  Me: Paradise-like

  Mia: Wow, that’s deep for a writer

  I laughed. God, I missed her ability to always make me smile.

  Me: I miss you, Tiny

  Mia: What’s wrong?

  Me: Nothing. I can’t miss you?

  Mia: Of course you can. Now tell me what’s going on?

  Me: I met someone

  Mia: *dances*

  Me: LOL

  Mia: And…

  Me: I like him

  Mia: *twirls*

  Me: HA, HA

  Mia: And what?

  Me: It’s complicated

  Mia: It always is, Sammy. Oh, shit. Nikki’s here. Can we talk later?

  Me: Sure

  Mia: You’re okay, though?

  Me: Yes

  Mia: You sure?

  Me: Yeah

  Mia: Okay, let’s chat tomorrow. I miss you!

  Me: Ditto

  Mia: Oh, and I hope this someone appreciates you. Because you da bomb

  I snorted.

  Mia: Tiny’s words of wisdom. I love you! Bye!

  Me: Bye babe. Have fun

  A sigh left my chest as I chucked my iPhone onto the chair. I couldn’t write, and now I couldn’t read. There was only one obvious solution—to run off the madness plaguing my brain.

  By the time I’d changed and grabbed a bite to eat, the sun was at its hottest point. But I didn’t care. I wanted to sweat. To feel the burn on the back of my legs, my body so achy I could tumble into bed and sleep for a day. Or maybe until my flight back home.

  I paused in front of the ocean. Golden sunlight sparkled as it danced off the water. Everything about the view was stunning. From the ethereal bluish-green color of the sea, to the silhouettes of surfers riding the curl of foamy white waves. This really was as close to paradise as you could get.

  Inhaling a big breath of salty air, I stuck my earbuds in and broke out into a steady run. It felt good. Sweat clung to my t-shirt as the sun beat down on my back, a cool breeze sifting off the ocean my only relief.

  My sneakers dug into the firm, wet sand along the shore, as music pounded in my ears and I let it take me away. Queen and Bowie were singing about pressure and I could relate. I smiled, though. Mia made this compilation for my birthday knowing how much I loved 80’s music. She used to tease me about secretly wanting to go back in time and date men with big hair. Of course, that made me think about Drew. How his damn hair always fell over his forehead.

  I pushed myself harder, my legs feeling a sweet ache that assured me they’d be sore as hell tomorrow. But I didn’t care. My only goal was to block out the world and, similar to writing, running allowed me to do just that.

  Not more than five minutes later, I was eating my own words. My long strides slowed when I spotted Drew sitting on a slab of rock. He didn’t see me, but I noticed him right away. He was pulling a hand through his hair repeatedly as he stared out at the ocean.

  For the first time since we met, my steps faltered. Unsure whether I should stop or keep running. Drew appeared deep in thought and I didn’t want to bother him. Uncertainty sank like a rock deep in my stomach. Given what happened between us this morning, I didn’t know if I’d be a welcome interruption and wasn’t certain how that made me feel. Just that it wasn’t good.

  There was no way I could ignore him. Pretending I didn’t see Drew was juvenile and something I would’ve done in high school. I wasn’t that person anymore. I met things head-on now and was not about to change because of my tangled feelings.

  On a large breath, I pulled my ear buds out, cutting off Tears for Fears singing about letting it all out. It was sound advice. But in my case, I was terrified to scare Drew away any more than I already had.

  Fingers twisting the cord, I edged closer with caution as if approaching a wounded animal. I knew Drew had been through a lot in his life thus far and I was expecting too much. Especially for someone who didn’t do relationships.

  A few rocks fell away as I momentarily lost my footing and stepped up to where he sat. He caught sight of me, cupping a hand over his forehead to shield the bright sun.

  “Hey.”

  “Hey yourself.” I gestured to the spot beside him. “Mind if I sit?”

  “Nope.”

  “Gotta love a man of few words,” I teased, but he barely cracked a smile. This was not looking good. His attention strayed to the water as I took a seat, stretching my legs out on the warm stone. “You look like you’re pondering the mysteries of the universe.” He didn’t respond at first, and as the silence lengthened between us, I wasn’t sure he would.

  But then he did.

  “I don’t know how to do this,” he whispered, still intent on avoiding my gaze. I needed him to look at me. Needed to see his eyes to understand what he meant.

  “Do what?”

  He exhaled like he had the weight of the world solely on his shoulders. I suppose in many ways he did, and that made my heart heavy. So much of me wanted to help him carry the burden. “This…” Another breath floated in the air above us. It was obvious how difficult this was for him and I wished I could make it easier. “Caring about someone. I don’t have… any experience. I don’t know… what to do.”

  The fact he openly admitted to caring about me stirred nervous flutters in my chest. But the flutters mixed with an ache that pushed them aside. I touched his chin, gently turning him toward me. “It’s okay.”

  “It’s not.” Pain sliced through his words and my stomach flew into a downward spiral. “I’m screwing it up. I always fucking screw things up.”

  “No. You’re wrong.” I let my hand fall away because I didn’t want him to feel like I was pushing. “You don’t have to do anything. All you have to do is be you. I really like who you are, Drew. I wish…” I hesitated, not wanting to overstep. But determination swept in and carried my words. “I wish you liked who you are. There’s so much there.”

  He cast his head down and swallowed, his Adam’s apple a thick bob in his throat. “You think so, huh?”

  “I know so.”

  God, Drew was such an enigma. On the one hand, he was cocky and confident. Larger than life. But on the other, he was just… scared. I suppose we were all scared—of something. Me, I was afraid of my growing feelings for him. The possibility that in this short of a time I could become so attached. That he could make me high.

  I’d never done drugs. They were certainly available to me growing up surrounded by such enormous wealth. Seventeen-year-olds driving Mercedes and BMW’s. Kids with way too much time on their hands and too much money to know what to do with. But this must be what it felt like. Ecstasy. Because Drew intoxicated me.

  He glanced to his left, away from me, but not before I noticed the corner of his lips edging into a smile. I had to press my own lips together to fight the joy that took over. Maybe my words
were getting through to him. I hoped so.

  Drew shifted toward me. “So what are you listening to?”

  I lifted an ear bud and slipped my fingers under his hair to put it in place, choosing a song from my playlist. He listened for a few seconds before he laughed.

  “When Doves Cry?”

  “Yeah, why? You don’t like Prince?”

  He swiped the phone from my hand and scrolled through the rest of the songs. “On the contrary. I think he was a fucking musical genius. I never would’ve guessed you were an 80’s buff though.”

  “Yeah, it’s pretty bad.” I leaned closer, lowering my voice. “If you promise not to tell anyone, I’ll admit to watching St. Elmo’s Fire more than a dozen times. I kind of have a thing for Rob Lowe. My sister teases me a lot about it. She thinks I should’ve grown up in the ‘80s. This playlist is courtesy of her.”

  He handed me back my cell. “I don’t like all 80’s music, but some of it was bomb as fuck.”

  “Bomb as fuck?” I snorted, knocking his shoulder by accident. He retaliated, and relief over the lightness of it sent me reeling.

  “Yeah.” He jerked his chin. “You never heard that phrase before?”

  “Nope. Must be a New York thing.” An idea hit me and I pushed up off the rock, wanting to get us back on track. Where we were headed, I didn’t know. The discomfort of not knowing what came next caused my gut to swell with uneasiness. “The people I grew up with were pretty stuffy. Swearing wasn’t in their repertoire.”

  “That’s too fucking bad.” A shit-eating grin engulfed his entire face. I was happy to see it return. “I fucking love to swear.”

  “I hadn’t noticed,” I deadpanned, pulling my right leg behind me, knee pointing downward in a stretch. His gaze skimmed over my body and I practically melted in front of him. “You up for doing some running, or are you too tired?”

  Drew glanced to his left then his right as if he couldn’t believe I’d posed the question. “Me? Too tired? No. I’ve got endless stamina.”

  My brows lifted, but I didn’t comment. “Okay then. Let’s run.”

  He followed me down off the rocks and onto the sand. I turned around. “Are you sure you’re up for this? I’m not going to go easy on you. Running is kind of my thing.”

  “And I’m a swimmer, remember? So give me everything you’ve got.”

  Alongside the water, we started off slow but eventually picked up the pace. Running with a partner was new for me. With the exception of Mia, who had tried but failed to keep up, I’d always run on my own. I didn’t mind because it gave me time to sort my thoughts and work out any mental blocks with my stories.

  But I could get used to running with Drew. Watching the way his muscles flexed as he pumped his arms at his sides. The single drop of sweat that trickled down his temple and trailed along the edge of his face. Seeing his lips form that heart-stopping smile. Yes, I could definitely get used to this.

  Drew barged into my thoughts. “What are you thinking about?”

  “I was thinking about how it’s nice to have company when I run. I usually just run alone. You know, listen to music, figure out my stories. Stuff like that.”

  “And I can imagine running with this view beats fucking Jersey any day of the week.”

  “It absolutely does.” Sweat careened down my cheek and I used my sleeve to wipe it away. “It’s funny, when I first got here I was sort of gun shy. I didn’t know what I’d even do here, but now…” I chanced a look at Drew, who was focused on the beach ahead of us. That made it easier to say the words. “It’s hard to imagine being anywhere else.”

  “I hear you on that,” he echoed, unsure whether he caught the double meaning in my statement. If he did, he didn’t let on. “You know, whenever I picture Jersey, I always think of The Sopranos. I loved that fucking show.”

  “I was a huge fan, too.” I chimed in. “I especially appreciated it for the writing and the characters. Actually, a lot of those exterior scenes they used were shot in New Jersey.”

  “Where do you get your ideas? For your stories?” he added, a light gust of wind off the water blowing the hair around his face. My fingers itched to brush it away.

  “It probably sounds strange, but a lot of times I just start with a scene. I might not even be thinking about it in terms of a full story. Something will come to me and I’ll write it down. Then the story develops from that one scene, as if it wraps itself around it.”

  I caught his smile from the side. “That is so fucking cool. I couldn’t even imagine writing twenty pages, never mind three hundred.”

  “You’d be surprised though. Once you get going and catch your groove, the words just start pouring out. Plus, I’m always led by what the characters tell me to do. It’s the only part of my life I can’t control.” I chuckled. “It’s frustrating. Because no matter how much I want to, the moment I try to control it, I get stuck.”

  I was rambling, but when it came to my writing I had a hard time keeping quiet. “Honestly, I marvel at it every time,” I admitted, switching my phone into the other hand. “That I actually wrote a full story. It never gets old. That feeling. You know?”

  “Yeah, I do know,” he countered, but something in his voice told me we weren’t talking about my stories anymore. Goose bumps skated across my damp skin, but I willed them away. “Can I ask you a question?” He seemed hesitant, and I nodded, curious. “Have you spoken to your ex?”

  “Glenn?” Saying his name should’ve detonated something in my chest. Fireworks. Anger. Disappointment. But there was nothing. I smiled, probably looking a little too happy under the circumstances. “No. I haven’t even thought about him actually, and I’m okay with it. I’m pretty sure now things happened the way they were meant to.”

  Subconsciously, there might have been a hidden message in that statement. The truth always had a way of coming out. I briefly flicked my gaze to Drew and he turned away, but not before I caught the tail end of his smile.

  We fell into a comfortable silence after that, and I let myself breathe. Tried not to manipulate whatever this was in my head. I didn’t plan for Drew. Didn’t have a space available for him. Yet somehow he found his way in, pushing everything else aside.

  “One more question,” he called out as we bypassed a little girl eating an ice cream cone, pink smeared across her cheeks. “Jesus, that fucking cone is bigger than her head,” he remarked, and I belted out a laugh.

  “Your question?” I prompted once I calmed down. “Are you sure you can still talk?” I teased. “You seem a little out of breath.”

  “Not I, Sam. And if that’s your way of saying you want to throw in the towel because you can’t hack it, just let me know.” Drew paused his stride and my feet came to a stop. He bent over at the waist and placed his hands on his knees. I was joking, but it was only now that I noticed he was breathing heavy.

  “Drew?” He gestured for me to wait with a finger in the air, but that didn’t stop me from resting my hand on his back. I felt the erratic rhythm of his chest. It was much too choppy. “Sit down.”

  He took my direction, kind of half-standing then plopping down on the sand. He stared up at me, an apology in his eyes. “I… think… I’m dehydrated.”

  “I’ll be right back.” I set my phone and ear buds in his lap before sprinting down the beach. We were a ways from our hotel, but I kept running until I stumbled upon another one and made a beeline for the outside bar. While waiting, I chastised myself for not bringing along water. I always carried a bottle when I ran, but since I’d hydrated beforehand it slipped my mind.

  Drew was laid out on his back when I returned. His knees were bent toward his chest, feet flat and pressing into the sand.

  “Hey.” I collapsed beside him in my sweat-soaked shirt and he squinted up at me.

  “What took you so long?” He half-grinned, and I latched onto his arm to help him upright.

  “Shut up and drink your water.” I passed him the large plastic cup and he held the straw in f
ront of his lips. He hesitated though, fixating on the group of lemon wedges visible through the plastic. Then he sipped the water slowly, keeping his gaze on mine.

  Once he drained half the drink, he held it out to me and I shook my head. “I’m good. You feel better?”

  “Yeah, much. Thank you.” His teeth dug into his lip as he circled the cup with his straw, ice rattling at the bottom. “I love lemons.”

  My eyes darted to my fingers. I watched them, mesmerized, as they made circles in the smooth sand. “I know.”

  “Sam.”

  The pitch of Drew’s voice brought my glance up. He was staring, mapping my features as if seeing me for the first time. His gaze was concentrated on my face, drifting from my eyes to my lips, then back again. He reached for me and my heart raced as I waited to feel his touch.

  Hyperaware of my surroundings, everything came into sharp focus. A splash of color as a ball flew by our heads. Waves breaking and crashing against the shore. The breeze tickling the back of my neck. My pulse rocketed the moment his hand found my face. His fingers against my skin were rough and giving at the same time. And when he leaned in to kiss me, it was so tender, I almost sighed into his mouth.

  It was different, this kiss. Because it was the first time Drew reached out for me. I felt the shift in the lazy rhythm of his tongue, the gentle caress of his fingers along my jaw. He might not have been able to form the words, but he was opening his heart to me—and that was better than anything he could have ever said.

  Warm lips coasted over mine, all the while his hand slid lower on my throat, bringing me closer. He tasted like saltwater and lemons. Like something undeniably Drew. I wanted to surround him with my body and fuse us together. But my arms stayed limp at my sides and I let him lead, willing to go wherever he wanted to take me. Ceding control for the first time in my life. I didn’t want to be in control with Drew. I wanted to be fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants crazy with him—and just hold on for the ride.

  Hoping it would never end.

  LEMONS.

 

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