Take Me To The Beach

by K. L. Grayson, Karina Halle, A. L. Jackson, Marni Mann, Monica Murphy, Devney Perry, Kristen Proby, Rachel Van Dyken

  “Elizabeth . . . I—” I didn’t know exactly what to say. Wasn’t it obvious?

  I was dying to have her.

  Didn’t she get that?

  I always had wanted her. But it had grown into something else.

  But when she looked back up, I understood it all.

  The world dropped from beneath me, and I stumbled back the last few steps until my back was plastered against her door.

  My best friend.

  Elizabeth’s chin quivered, and one side of her mouth was drawn in as if she were chewing on the inside of her lip. But her eyes . . . it was there.

  What had I done?

  I met her gaze, searching for a mistake, for some way to take it all back to the place where it was just me and Elizabeth. Where we were friends and we laughed and we dealt with all the rest of this shit on the inside.

  But I’d crossed the line, and Elizabeth could no longer hold it back.

  “Christian,” she pled, chancing a tortured step forward. “Tell me what that was.”

  I shook my head and swallowed, wishing for an easy escape. I had no idea how to handle this.

  Because Elizabeth wanted a promise, and I couldn’t give her that. “I don’t know . . . I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but I don’t know.”

  She slowly shook her head. “I’m not sure I can do this anymore.”

  “Don’t let this mess up our friendship . . . I can’t lose that, Elizabeth.”

  Disbelief drew her brows together, wove with the sadness in her eyes.

  “You don’t want to mess up our friendship?” She shook her head. “Just go, Christian.”

  “Elizabeth . . .”

  “Please. It’s really late.” Deliberating, she twisted her fingers together. “I think I need some time.”

  Swallowing, I stepped away from the door so I could pull it open. I hesitated but could find nothing to say that would make this any better. All I could think was how much I hated myself for ruining the one truly good thing I had in my life.

  With my back to her, I paused, the murmur from my mouth rough. “I really am sorry, Elizabeth.”

  Then I walked out before I did something else I regretted, quietly clicking the door shut behind me.

  Elizabeth

  The sharp click of the door behind me nearly brought me to my knees. I clutched my stomach and struggled to hold in the pain.

  But it was too intense.

  “Oh, God,” I whimpered, holding my palm over my mouth.

  There was no stopping the sob from breaking free. It came as an offensive echo around the room.

  I wanted to stop it, go back and change it, but it was too late. The damage already done.

  I’d stumbled.

  Fallen.

  Considering how I felt, I should have known better than to let Christian through my door.

  At the party, I’d been hit with the magnitude of how deep my affections ran. Wrapped up in how bad that realization stung, it’d left me vulnerable.

  The knock on my door had jarred my hopes, flamed the fear, and stoked my need.

  I’d hesitated, quieted my breaths, self-preservation kicking in. I’d silently willed him to walk away while my heart begged him to stay.

  My rational side had little chance. The second knock beckoned me forward, and I’d peered through the peephole at the man who held me in the palm of his hand.

  Fingers shaking, I’d unlocked the door, insecurity slowing my movements as I cracked the door to stare out at Christian.

  Lines of anger had twisted his face, and I’d stopped short, confused and sad and relieved. It left me unable to comprehend the conflict he incited in me.

  He’d pushed through, and the room had filled with his presence, the air so heavy that I should have seen it as a warning and not as the comfort that came plundering through my senses.

  When his warm lips had caressed my neck, it’d almost been too much, and I’d been seconds from surrendering. A panicked voice inside me cried out to stop, to defend my heart, because I was already in far too deep, and I managed to rip myself from the grip I was falling victim to.

  I’d spun around with an accusation perched on my lips and stopped dead.

  There had been no surfacing from the flood that was Christian Davison because he’d been looking at me as if he felt the same.

  Now my body shook and tingled with his residual, this consuming desire coursing through my blood, mingling with this vast depth of misery.

  I would have given myself to him.

  Offered what I guarded and protected.

  Because to me, it was never a game. It was never supposed to be the fumble of a good time.

  It was devotion—an act of adoration—something I’d been so foolish to waste before.

  It wouldn’t have been wasted on Christian. Yet it still would have destroyed me.

  I shook my head as I made my way back to the stove, my movements jerky as I flipped off the burner. I shoved the burning pot back to an empty burner.

  Anger burned my insides.

  God, I felt so angry.

  His words had slashed me straight to the core, crushed and cut. They were all the confirmation I needed to know how easily he could devastate me.

  Low, mocking laughter tumbled from my mouth.

  He already had . . . because I’d let him.

  And I had no idea what I was supposed to do now.

  * * *

  j

  * * *

  Sleep came in sporadic bouts. I tossed through the daze that tormented the night.

  Never had I felt so alone.

  New York had once been my fairy tale. Now it felt like a place to escape. Lazy light seeped through the small window, and I rolled to my stomach, trying to press the memories of the night before from my mind.

  I didn’t want to remember.

  I didn’t want to feel.

  I’d been ignoring my phone all morning. It’d rung at least five times, then bleeped with voicemails that just seemed to break my heart a little more.

  When it rang again, I gave up and stretched out to retrieve it from the floor.

  It wasn’t the number I was expecting, though. Not another apology from Christian that I knew was truly sincere, but still could do nothing to make up for the fact that he didn’t feel what I wanted him to.

  No.

  Instead, it was my older sister.

  Still lying in bed, I accepted the call. I tried to clear the roughness from my voice. “Hey, Sarah.”

  “Are you okay?” she immediately asked.

  Apparently, I hadn’t done a very good job.

  “Yeah, I just woke up.”

  “Oh . . . sorry for waking you . . . but . . .” Excitement bled through her concern for me. I pictured her bouncing as she stood next to the phone in the small kitchen of the home she’d purchased with her new husband just the year before. “I have some really good news.”

  I sat up a bit and drew my knees to my chest. Resting one elbow on a knee, I propped my head up in my hand. I forced what I was feeling aside.

  Sarah was always so direct, a good listener filled with even better advice, but her mood rarely fluctuated from her mild manner. I knew whatever she’d called to tell me was important.

  “What is it?”

  “You’re going to be an aunt.”

  Her news shifted through me, wound with the sadness, affixed as a plaintive smile on my lips.

  A dense weight welled up inside, filled with both light and heavy.

  Distinct happiness laced with what Christian had left me with.

  “Oh my gosh, Sarah, I can’t believe you’re going to be a mom. Are you excited?”

  She laughed. “Can’t you tell?”

  “Um, yeah, I think it’s pretty obvious,” I said, warmth and joy for her filling my tone.

  “So . . .” I hedged, not sure how to phrase it. They’d planned on waiting, establishing their lives and their home before they had children.

  I think she expected my u
nvoiced question. “It was totally an accident, but after the shock wore off, I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.”

  Her happy sigh was tangible in the distance. Again, I pictured her in her kitchen, but this time with a tender hand resting on her belly.

  “I’m so happy for you.” I was doing my best at hiding my own turmoil. I didn’t want to taint this moment.

  Compared to this news, my issues were so trivial.

  Still, it was hard to hide it.

  “What’s going on, Liz?”

  “Nothing,” I rushed out the obvious lie.

  “Don’t give me that. You think I can’t tell when you’re upset?”

  My entire family was close, Sarah and I especially so.

  Five years older than me, she’d always been my confidant, my defender. She was the one to softly assert she was concerned I might be making a mistake, encouraging me to slow down and think it through, and my biggest supporter whenever I hesitated to try, afraid I would fail.

  A strangled groan rose up from my mouth. I flopped with my back to the bed, rubbing my eye with the heel of my hand.

  “This has to be about a boy . . . Only a man can make that sound come from a woman.”

  I knew this was Sarah’s attempt at lightening the mood while broaching the subject, but it felt too heavy, too much.

  “Is it that Christian guy who always seems to be invading your space every time I talk to you?”

  I bit my lip as unwelcomed tears filled my eyes.

  “Liz?”

  I tried to hold it back, but a choked sob rumbled up and tore from my throat.

  Uncontainable.

  Unstoppable.

  It hurt as it scraped through.

  Silence stretched across the line before Sarah finally spoke. “Oh, God, Liz . . . you’re in love with him.”

  It wasn’t a question.

  It was a statement.

  She had this intuition about her. She’d been the one who’d seen through my feelings for Ryan, that as much as I’d illusioned myself with being in love with him, I never had been. I wasn’t surprised she could easily tell when I really was.

  Hearing those words voiced aloud ripped and tugged, taunted me for being such a fool.

  I couldn’t blame Christian. This was all on me.

  From the start, I’d known what he was like, yet I’d pushed it, invited him into my life. As if that smile wouldn’t worm its way into my heart. As if the kindness I saw in the depths of those blue eyes wasn’t going to turn me inside out.

  Change everything—who I was and what I wanted.

  And what I wanted was him.

  She remained silent for a few minutes and just let me cry.

  “Liz.” Sympathy rolled from my sister’s tongue, quiet understanding. “I hate that you’re all the way over there and I can’t hug you right now.”

  A small jolt of laughter made its way through my tears. “I wish you were here, too. I miss you so much.”

  Sniffling, I wiped my eyes with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. I rolled to my side and hugged my knees to my chest, held the phone closer to my ear.

  “So you want to tell me about it?”

  “I don’t even know, Sarah. We were just supposed to be friends, and then it was like one day passed, and all of a sudden, I couldn’t live without him. Everything was fine until he asked me to go to this party with him last night. I should have known better than to go.”

  I sucked in a breath. “I hated it there, Sarah. I mean, I can’t tell you how it felt to stand in that room and know he’s been with half the girls there. I went to the restroom, and when I came out, some girl was rubbing all over him. I couldn’t stand it, so I took off without telling him.”

  “Liz.” Disapproval clouded her voice.

  “I know, I know. It wasn’t cool, but I just couldn’t, Sarah. Then he showed up here at my place. The next thing I knew we were kissing, and then everything escalated out of control so fast.”

  My head spun as I remembered the fear on Christian’s face when I’d asked him what it was he wanted, the way he’d stepped back to put distance between us because he no longer wanted to be in my space.

  Because he didn’t know.

  Who would have thought that word could be sharper than a knife?

  “I don’t know how I was strong enough to stop, but I was. Those words came so close to leaving my mouth.”

  The pain amplified, squeezing my chest as the word spun around me.

  Love. Love. Love.

  “I think he knew it . . . somehow saw it in me.”

  “And what does he feel?”

  “I don’t think he knows beyond the fact that he wants to have sex with me. He made that much clear.” Anger slipped into my voice. I couldn’t tell if it was directed at Christian or myself. Like I didn’t already know that the first time I met him.

  “Elizabeth, he’s eighteen. Of course, he wants to have sex with you. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about you.”

  “But that’s the thing, Sarah, I tried to force it out of him, to make him tell me what he feels. He said he didn’t know.”

  I blew out a strained breath. “He said he was sorry then left. And that was it. He keeps calling and saying he’s sorry about what happened last night, asking if we can just go back to the way we were before. He has to know that’s not going to happen.”

  It would be impossible.

  There’s no way I could ever look at him without remembering the way his mouth felt on mine. The way my body had lit on fire.

  “I’m sorry, Liz. But you are both so young.”

  I grunted.

  This coming from my sister who’d been with the guy she ended up marrying since she was seventeen. I knew she was just being rational, that we were young.

  It was true.

  But she knew me better than that.

  Age had nothing to do with it, although I could only assume it did for Christian. Selfishness like that wasn’t easily shed, maturity hard to come by when everything had always been placed at his feet.

  “Do you think I wanted to fall in love with him?”

  Sarah’s voice was soft. “No, and I wasn’t minimizing what you feel, Liz. You just worked so hard to make it to New York, and I hate to see you waste it being hung up on a guy like that. He’s obviously kind of a jerk.”

  I sighed and rolled to my back, staring at the ceiling. I’d calmed, the fog in my mind cleared.

  Talking with my sister, getting it out, had worked as some kind of soothing balm. “I’m not even mad at him. I’m just mad at myself. It’s my fault for trying to make him into something he’s not.”

  The hardest part was I saw the kind of man who could love me buried inside him, waiting to be discovered.

  For a fleeting moment last night, I’d seen it staring back at me.

  I sensed her shaking her head. “You’re kind of amazing, Liz.” Her words were filled with sincerity and comfort. “Most girls would be putting all the blame on the guy.”

  “I am kind of amazing, right?” I forced the tease.

  “Now, don’t get carried away,” she said through a laugh.

  I sighed. “Thanks for listening, Sarah. I’m sorry I made this about me. I really am so very happy for you and Greg. I can’t wait to be an aunt.”

  “Hey, I’m here for you whenever you need me. I know it has to be hard for you over there by yourself. And it’s Thanksgiving next week. It sucks you’re going to miss it. You’re still coming home for Christmas, aren’t you?”

  I couldn’t afford to make the trip back twice, and there was no way I’d miss Christmas. “Yeah, I’m coming home.”

  “Okay, good. Hang in there, Liz. It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”

  I had to believe that. “Thanks, Sarah.”

  “Love you.”

  “Love you, too.”

  When I ended the call with my sister, I felt a little better.

  Settled.

  Resolved.

 
; It was easy to admit it now, what I’d been feeling the last couple of months. The way my stomach would twist when I looked at Christian, the way it hurt when he was away, and how much I couldn’t wait until I saw him again.

  It was patent in the devastation I’d felt seeing him with another girl last night at the party. Palpable in the way I’d succumbed to his touch when he kissed me.

  I was in love with Christian.

  Completely.

  There was nothing I could do about it. No way to take it back. It was there. Strong. Interwoven and beating with my heart.

  I had to end this. The only thing I could do was guard the last part of myself I had, because it would be so easy for me to give it to him now.

  Last night, I’d come so close. I would have laid everything else aside while I let him consume me. Let him take it all.

  He’d use me. Destroy me. Not because he wanted to, but just because that’s who he was.

  Flopping onto my stomach, I buried my face in my pillow as if it could block out the depression this realization caused. Last night had cost me my best friend.

  But I had to be wise enough to know he wasn’t just my friend. He never had been. This had always been there, lying in wait, an ambush set to take us over. Being around him was no longer an option.

  My heart broke for myself because I’d fallen for someone like him. It broke for Christian because I knew there was a huge part of him who was truly kind.

  The part of him who really needed a friend.

  But I couldn’t be her anymore.

  Christian

  I lay alone in my bed while morning threatened at my window.

  Four days had passed since I talked to her.

  Each one seemed to add a new element to the sadness that had taken me over.

  I was miserable.

  There was no other way to describe it.

  Empty, vacant, that void I’d tried to fill with Elizabeth’s body now a hollow pang.

  It was as if Elizabeth had punched me deep in the recesses of my chest, her hands as frantic as mine had been as she searched and struggled. Ultimately, when she found nothing that I could give her except disappointment, she’d ripped her life from me and left this gaping hole.