He was a paparazzi.
Oh, no.
Oh, no.
What if Killian sees those pictures? He could think I was with Joel! Oh God, this was not good. I fell to the floor, the image of Killian’s face marred in disgust and anger overcoming me. When the tears hit my face, I knew I was screwed. Would he still even want me?
“I’m so sorry, Livia.” Joel was standing over me, his whole body radiating anger at the intrusion.
“He could think I’m with you, Joel. Shit! What am I going to do?”
“Sticky situation. But Killian will hear you out first. It’s going to be okay.” He knelt down in front of me and wiped away the tears that were running freely.
“I hope so. I can’t lose him. Not again.”
We stayed on the ground for some time before I got up and took a shower, feeling like a mindless zombie.
Joel dropped me off at the airport, and I watched the California landscape disappear beneath the clouds and thought of Killian’s face, but not twisted up in jealousy or anger. I remembered his face when I asked him to let me ride with him. He looked at me like I was a loon, but then when I begged him, he saw something in my eyes that made him say sure. Those stormy blue eyes were my downfall from the beginning, and I didn’t even realize it. My eyes found the fluffy clouds outside the window, and I focused how I was going to see Killian soon, and tell him everything. I prayed he was willing to try with me.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Killian
I’d been driving through the night, for almost fourteen hours, just ready to get home on Sugarloaf and dive into the water.
This drive had been particularly hard without the bubbliness of Livia in the truck with me, but I’d made it. There was hope for me yet. I’d avoided the cabin when I stayed with Lucas this time, so I wouldn’t see all the places where I’d had a piece of heaven with Livia. Surprisingly, Lucas didn’t say anything about her or love the whole day and a half I was there to shred snow. I saw his look of sadness for me a few times, but I just ignored it.
First thing I was going to do after sleeping for ten hours, and taking a dive in the water, was going to the store and getting a new phone. I’d lost it in the snow, and all I could think about was thanking the stars above that I’d saved that picture of Livia to my computer at home so I wouldn’t lose it. Lame ass, I know. But now I was glad I did it.
I wondered, not for the first time since I lost my phone, if Livia had texted me, or called. But after the first twenty-four hours without it, I figured it was better for my mind to wait and see when I got home .
The moon was high, and the sea breeze welcomed me as I pulled into the large acre of land that surrounded the small house I was renting.
It was a one bedroom, cottage-style home, with a porch around it and a long dock that led out to the water, where I could dive down and look at the small reefs about ten yards out. It was my little patch of paradise, and I was happy with it. I didn’t need a large home like Joel or Lucas. Just wanted the water and a space a little bit bigger than the truck to retire to when the road had been brutal.
This past haul was rough. I parked the rig in its spot, and hopped out. I’d clean out the cab tomorrow when it was light out and I wasn’t so tired.
My bed was like a siren, calling to me, as I walked up the porch stairs and unlocked the door. Without changing out of my driving clothes, I just opened up a window and crashed. Hard.
When I woke the next morning, I felt more refreshed, and decided to walk down to the Sugarloaf Lodge that hosted a farmer’s market every Friday. I could give back to the locals who spent their time mastering their craft, whether it be fishing, arts, gardening, or drinking. I could appreciate their passion, and I enjoyed seeing their faces light up when I bought something. It reminded me of Livia, a little. As I looked around at what everyone had to offer, I could totally see her sitting there with her drawings, either trying to sell them or just drawing for the hell of it. She’d sit in a hammock, with cut-off denim shorts and a tight tank top. Her blonde hair would be pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she would have that smudge on her cheek from her pencil-rubbed fingers. Even though it was just a fantasy, it brought a smile to my face for the rest of my walk.
I’d managed to score some fresh chicken, some cheese, a loaf of focaccia bread, and a filet of fresh mahi-mahi, my favorite fish to eat down here.
The sun was almost straight up, signaling it was almost noon time, and I was ready to jump in the water. For being the tail end of February, the air temps were getting close to the eighties, but the water was still a bit chilly. I would have to put on a suit before getting in.
While putting away my food from the market, I noticed something on the dock through my kitchen window that wasn’t there before I left.
I set the veggies on the counter, and walked out onto the porch.
My heart stopped for a minute, as I swore I saw a girl with blonde hair wearing a purple bikini and wrap around her hips that was blowing with the breeze.
Unsteady on my feet, I staggered to the dock to see the mirage before me.
She couldn’t be here on my dock. It had to be something I tried at the market that had poisoned me.
Smooth, creamy pale skin. Messy blonde hair that was braided to the side and resting on her bare shoulder. If this wasn’t real, then the universe was unspeakably cruel. It was like the fantasy I had of her after our night in Vegas, right down to the purple bikini.
When my boots alerted the girl to my arrival, her whole body started to turn around slowly. Air was trapped in my lungs as I waited to see with my own eyes that it was her.
