I started pulling at his clothes, hoping he’d be on the same page as me. As he stripped off his shirt, it was clear that he was. I ran my fingers down his taut abs, appreciating every line, tracing that wonderful tattoo. Specks of sand drifted from my hands to his chest. We were going to have sand everywhere after this, but it would be totally worth it.
Jake brought his mouth to my neck. He kissed me a couple of times, sending lightning bolts down my body, then murmured, “Salty,” in my ear.
With a laugh, I let my head fall to the side so I was looking out at the ocean. The vast nothingness was a comfort now, since it confirmed that no one would see what we were about to do. Only . . . it was no longer a tranquil sea of nothing. There was something out there, and it was coming closer.
I jerked upright to a seated position, almost smacking Jake in the head in the process. “What?” he asked, sitting beside me.
“There’s something . . .” Narrowing my eyes, I stared out over the shimmering water, trying to understand what I was seeing. It had to be an illusion, because it sure looked like . . .
“Oh my God, a ship,” Jake said, jumping to his feet as he confirmed my suspicions.
My heart started pounding in my chest as hope and adrenaline surged through me. Jake began waving his arms over his head, yelling at the top of his voice. I did the same. Desperation started overwhelming me. They had to see us, had to see our signal. They were so close . . . if they shot right by us, it would be soul crushing.
I screamed and waved until my throat was raw and my arms were too tired to lift. As I panted, trying to restore my energy, I saw a smaller boat on the water. This one was heading right for us. Tears leaked down my cheeks as relief flooded through me. They’d seen us. They were coming. We were going home.
Jake saw the rescue boat too. He turned to me with shimmering eyes. “We did it, Valerie. We made it.”
We’d done it; we’d made it. All of this was over. But . . . not all of this had been bad. A flicker of fear dashed my joy as I watched Jake grab his shirt and slide it over his body. Our last intimate moment flashed through my mind. Was that the last time I’d ever hold him, kiss him . . . make love to him? Were we over, now that we were going back home . . . to my sister?
Not wanting to comprehend the magnitude of that potential loss, I grabbed his hand and squeezed. He clasped me back just as fiercely, then swept me into a hug. His body was vibrating with emotion, but I wasn’t entirely sure what emotion he was feeling. Happiness to be leaving, sure, but happiness to be returning to Kylie, or sadness that the inner fire we’d been building had just been quenched? Maybe both. I knew I felt like sobbing and laughing.
It felt like it took forever for the small boat to inch up to the shore. Jake and I sat on the beach as we waited. Holding his hand, I rested my head against his shoulder and silently prayed that somehow this wasn’t over between us. I wasn’t sure how I could go on without him. Not after I’d allowed myself to fall completely in love with him. But I couldn’t be with him either. I couldn’t do that to Kylie.
The men on the rescue boat didn’t speak English, but their faces were sympathetic as they handed us water and blankets, so I knew they understood our situation. They urged us onto the small boat, then pushed the boat into the water . . . and then we were gone, forever sailing away from the place that had changed our relationship. I watched the island get smaller in my vision with mixed feelings. Surprisingly, sadness was the most prevalent one.
Jake squeezed my hand, and I looked over at him. He had the same melancholy smile on his face, like he was going to miss it too. That made me feel a little better. At least I wasn’t alone with these odd, conflicting feelings.
The small boat reached the larger boat, and we were hoisted up. Once we were on the deck, I looked back at the island. It seemed so tiny now, with only a trail of dark smoke to indicate it was even there. I suddenly wished we’d had a chance to collect some of our things—bowls Jake had made, shells I’d collected—but none of that stuff was truly important, and most of the things on the island hadn’t been ours anyway. We’d just been allowed to borrow them for a time, and I would be eternally grateful for that.
A lot of the crew didn’t speak English, so at first we didn’t have a way to explain what had happened to us. It took a few minutes, but eventually they found a man who could speak our language. We brokenly told him our story, and he let us know where the boat was headed—Los Angeles. We were indeed going home. After all this time, it felt a little surreal.
Jake hugged me tight when we were on our way, and I clung to him with an almost maniacal desperation. I wanted to talk to him about us, about what we were now, but my throat was too tight for words, and my heart was too fragile. I couldn’t handle having that conversation yet, so I didn’t say anything.
Chapter Fourteen
I was a nervous wreck on the ride back home. Both because I was trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean again and because I wasn’t sure what to expect when we finally arrived back home. Jake and I talked about a lot of things during the journey, but not about us. He tried to open the conversation a few times, but I didn’t let him. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, and I was certain that was what was going to happen. Kylie loved him, and since it had only been a few months, there was no way she’d given her heart to someone new. She needed him, and I wasn’t about to stand in the way of her happiness.
I never would have let anything happen between Jake and me in the first place if I’d known we’d be rescued. Both of us had convinced ourselves that this day would most likely never happen, but now it was here. We were back in LA.
Jake stepped up to my side as I watched the pier getting larger and larger. “Surreal, isn’t it?” he said, taking in the hustle and bustle of the city we could see around the waterline. “It all seems so crowded after the jungle. Noisy.”
I smiled up at him, then leaned into his side. “Yeah. I always thought there was nowhere on earth I could live other than LA, but now . . . now I’m not so sure.”
He nodded as he wrapped his arm around my shoulder. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss the quiet.”
Closing my eyes, I enjoyed his embrace. Was this the last time I’d feel it?
“Valerie?” Jake softly said, squeezing my shoulder. “We should—”
Shaking my head, I slightly pulled away from him. “No, we shouldn’t.”
Jake sighed, then turned me to face him. “You can’t keep running from this. We’re almost home.”
“I’m not running, Jake. I’ve already faced this, and I’m fine.”
“You’re fine. And what exactly are you fine with?” he asked, lifting an eyebrow.
Ice poured through my veins. I did not want to talk about this. I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that this was over. That we were over. “Going home . . . going back to our old lives.”
“Going back to our . . . ? Valerie,” he said with a sigh. “I don’t even know what—”
“Jake,” I said, stepping away from him. “I’m fine, and I don’t want to talk about this. Let’s just be happy we’re back and not worry about . . . anything else. Okay?”
The look on his face was forlorn, sad, but he nodded and gave me space to process. We didn’t say anything more to each other while the boat docked, and I felt the wall of tension between us. It was like a burr under my skin, foreign, irritating, and unescapable. I hated it, but it was what it was, and there was nothing I could do to change it.
When it was finally time to go, I hugged all of the crew, and even though most of them couldn’t understand me, I thanked them for picking us up. It would have been a simple thing for them to ignore our call for help, and I would be forever grateful that they hadn’t.
Jake followed me down the gangplank. I found myself continuously wanting to wait for him, hold his hand, but it was time to return to the real world, and in the real world, we weren’t together. And not holding his hand turned out to be a good thing, because an unexpected sight greeted us—
a crowd of people and reporters, including my mom and dad, all my friends . . . and my sister.
Someone on the boat had clearly contacted the authorities, let them know they’d picked up a couple of strays. I was so shocked to see people I knew that I was frozen in place. My sister’s eyes locked on mine. Hers were red, like she’d been sobbing recently. She started crying again as I stood there staring at her. Then her eyes flicked past me to Jake. I couldn’t turn, couldn’t look at his reaction. All I knew was that he’d stopped when I had stopped. Was he silently supporting me . . . or was he just as stunned as I was?
I snapped out of it when I noticed my parents step up beside my sister. Mom was crying; Dad was rubbing at his eyes. Seeing them so emotional—seeing them at all—made hot tears prick my eyes. I’d missed them, of course, but it wasn’t until this very moment that I realized just how much. I swallowed back the sob building in my throat, and then I rushed forward to meet my family and wrapped my arms around all three of them in an awkward group hug.
“Valerie, oh my God, we thought you were dead,” my mom was saying. Kylie was sobbing incoherently, unable to form any words, and my dad was trying to keep it together. And failing.
As Mom kept repeating that she’d thought I was dead, I heard Jake next to us, greeting his own family. Kylie gave me one last squeeze, then tore away from me to go to him. I didn’t want to watch their reunion, but it was impossible to ignore them.
Still sobbing, my sister jumped into Jake’s arms, almost knocking him over. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, clinging to him with every inch of herself. I watched as Jake closed his eyes, squeezed her, and let out a long exhale. A smile formed on his face, and he looked genuinely at peace—like he could finally breathe again. It tore me open, and I half expected the ground around me to be covered in my blood.
Jake slowly opened his eyes, and our gazes locked. His expression shifted to one of pain and uncertainty. His mouth opened, and knowing an apology was about to come out of it, I quickly turned around to greet my friends. Jake had nothing to apologize for—as much as it hurt, he belonged with Kylie.
Alicia and Chloe both grabbed me at once; they were sobbing as they hugged me. Stephanie looked like she’d been crying, too, but while she waited her turn to hug me, her gaze shifted to Jake and Kylie. When she returned her eyes to mine, there was worry in them. She knew.
Bunching her brows, she mouthed, “Are you okay?”
The tears I’d been resisting poured down my cheeks. “No,” I mouthed, shaking my head. Steph sighed, then moved Alicia and Chloe out of the way so she could comfort me.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered in my ear. Her words made me cry even harder, so much so that I was shaking in her arms. Steph pulled back, sympathy on her face. Then she gave me a sad smile. “I am really glad you’re alive.”
“Me too,” I said, a chuckle escaping me.
Steph hugged me again, and then Alicia and Chloe joined her. As the three of them squeezed the life out of me, reporters tried to sneak through the crowd of people to ask Jake and me questions. “What happened to the boat? How did you survive? What happened on the island?” Not wanting to answer any of those things right now, I kept my mouth shut. So did Jake.
“Leave them alone. They’ve been through enough,” my dad barked, pushing the shoulder of a particularly aggressive reporter.
Shielding me from the press, my mom started leading me to their car. “She’ll talk to you when she’s recovered from this shock. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we need to get both of them checked out at a hospital. They have to be malnourished, exhausted . . . half near death.”
The reporters let us walk away, and I shot a glance at Jake as he followed behind us, walking hand in hand with my sister. Physically, Jake and I were far better than anyone would probably believe—thanks to the bunker and its ample food rations—but emotionally . . . yes, I was wiped.
Jake and I were separated at the hospital. My friends and my parents wouldn’t leave my side; Kylie wouldn’t leave his. The entire time the nurse checked my vitals, I imagined Jake and Kylie kissing. Voraciously. It made me sick to my stomach.
“I just can’t believe you’re alive,” my mom murmured, stroking my hair. “We thought for sure . . . we had a funeral for you. And for Jake. Your sister . . . she’s been doubly devastated.”
Guilt tore through me at what Kylie had gone through. What she had to be going through now. What she would go through if she only knew what had really happened on the island. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, not sure who I was talking to.
My mom let out a single sad laugh. “You’re sorry? For what? You didn’t do anything wrong. All you did was survive,” she added, wrapping her arms around me in a hug.
Right. If she only knew what had happened with Jake, she might think differently about the situation. Or maybe not. Maybe she’d understand; maybe she’d forgive me. I could almost hear her saying, It’s fine, sweetheart. Just don’t let it happen again. Jake belongs to Kylie.
But was that still true? It had been months. Kylie had completely believed he was dead. They’d had a funeral. Maybe she’d met someone else. Maybe she’d fallen in love again. It was a little soon for that but not completely out of the question. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, but since I was genuinely concerned about my sister, I quietly asked, “How is Kylie? I mean . . . I saw how she is now, but how was she before she knew we were alive? How was she a few days ago?”
Mom bunched her brows, like she wasn’t sure what I was asking. Then she sighed. “We’ve been really worried about her, actually. She never really . . . accepted that you and Jake were gone. She’s been clinging to the past, drowning in her pain, and not . . . moving forward.” She smiled. “But I’m sure she’s going to be fine now. You’re back, Jake’s back . . . everything is perfect again.”
Clinging to the past? Drowning in her pain? Not moving forward? Every word Mom said was a dagger to my heart—she’d gone through so much. But Mom’s comment about things being perfect now? Hardly. Because as relieved as I was that Kylie would be getting better now, I couldn’t stop feeling Jake’s hands on my body, his mouth on mine. I’d gotten so used to it that it felt unnatural now to not hug him, hold him, kiss him. No, we couldn’t all be happy in this situation. One of us—or maybe all of us—was going to be in misery.
The doctor gave me the all clear, and my parents took me home. With them. Because I no longer had a place of my own. Upon my death, my apartment had been given up, all my things given away or sold. I was starting life over again. At least I hadn’t had too much to begin with.
The first thing I did when I got home was take the world’s longest shower. It felt incredible to be really clean again. We’d had soap and shampoo thanks to the bunker, but a waterfall just wasn’t a shower. When I got out, I saw that Mom had stacked a bunch of her clothes on the bed in my old bedroom. She’d even given me a pair of flip-flops to wear instead of my ancient military boots.
She knocked on the door once I was changed. “How was it?” she asked, a huge smile on her face.
“Absolutely amazing,” I said, grinning. Sitting on the bed, I looked around the empty bedroom. Besides some furniture, the only things in here were some neutral pastel paintings on the wall. Everything I’d once had was gone. “Was all of Jake’s stuff sold too?” I asked, looking up at her.
Mom shrugged. “Yeah. Kylie had a really hard time with that. She wouldn’t let his parents get rid of anything for the longest time, but eventually . . . they did. I suppose he’ll be staying with her now.” She pursed her lips, like she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. I knew how I felt about it. Sick. He could be making love to her right now. I thought you were dead, but you’re not sex—the ultimate makeup sex. I was going to throw up. But I shouldn’t be sick. This was how things were supposed to be. Jake and Kylie in love and headed toward marriage. And me . . . trying to move forward without him.
After a dinner large enough for six people, Mom and Dad went to b
ed. I sat on the cold mattress, wondering how I would ever get to sleep. I’d gone to bed with Jake by my side for months now. Even on the boat, when we hadn’t really been speaking, we’d cuddled at night. This would be the first time since the island that I’d truly slept alone. I hated it.
The hours ticked by, but still sleep evaded me. I tried everything. Lying still for an eternity, counting sheep, trying to completely clear my mind. But Jake was at the forefront of my brain, and nothing but him would fill this hole.
Maybe I should call him. Maybe his voice would be enough to ease my spinning mind. But neither one of us had cell phones at the moment, so I’d have to call my sister to talk to him, and that would be hard to explain. Sorry, Kylie, I just can’t sleep until Jake tucks me in.
With an annoyed sigh, I looked over at the clock. God. It was just a few hours until morning. I was at the point where I might as well just stay awake, but I didn’t want to stay awake. I wanted to fall asleep . . . with Jake by my side. And that was when I heard him.
“Valerie.”
I sat up and walked over to the window, where I could hear his voice. Opening the curtains, I gaped as I saw Jake standing there, holding my window screen. “Oh, good, this is your room. I had a horrible vision of waking up your mom and dad.”
After unlocking the window, I slid it open. “What are you doing here?” I asked, truly mystified.
Jake motioned inside. “Can I come in?”
I numbly nodded and stepped aside. Maybe I had fallen asleep and was dreaming. Yes, that had to be it. That was the only thing that made sense. Jake was supposed to be with Kylie right now, not crawling through my window. He slid it closed behind himself, then turned to face me. I was still gaping at him, stunned. “What are you doing here?” I asked again.
Jake cringed, then walked over to my bed. “I couldn’t sleep. I think I got used to being next to you.” Sitting on the bed, he looked up at me. “Did you know I’d never lived with a girl until you?”
Smiling softly, I sat next to him. “No, I didn’t know that. I couldn’t sleep either. It’s so weird—I’m home, but I feel . . .”
Something Like Perfect Page 14