23
Ruby
HE HELD ME LIKE NOTHINGhad splintered. Like he hadn’t just detonated something between us.
I kept still, head on his chest, inhaling the scent of his skin, feeling the beat of his heart, my eyes wide open in the dark.
I didn’t ask again. I didn’t want to hear it in clearer words.
Not when I had no idea what I’d say back.
Not when I had no idea why I was still here, nestling against him and not bolting for the door.
I wasn’t, because I was trying to figure out how I could hold on to him without changing anything. Without risking more. There must be a way. I didn’t want us to be a past tense thing. I couldn’t bear the thought.
I stayed curled in him long after I knew he was asleep.
My only hope—pathetic as it sounded even in my own head—was that the renovation was going smoothly. That soon, he’d have to go back to Houston, and we’d go back to what we were.
Just amazing sex. Just loads of fun. No sleepy cuddles or “too complicated” feelings in the dark. Zero risk.
The version of us I could handle.
Because when someone said something like“You’re mine,”I didn’t thinkHow romantic.I thought,These things don’t last.Half the time, it wasn’t even conscious—it was muscle memory.
Because people went away when I became too much. And I wouldn’t even see it coming. One day they were there, the next they were gone. I could wreck everything just by being myself. So no, thanks. I’d rather walk away than be left gutted. Or better yet, never start anything at all. Safer to stay in one piece than risk shattering.
In that long, sleepless night, even when I let myself think ‘what if,’ I told myself that this overanalyzing and turmoil were exactly what I’d been trying to avoid my entire adult life. Imagine doing that over every little thing, forever waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop. Imagine allowing yourself to fall in love, only to be left at some point.
Imagine giving your heart entirely, then having it broken.
No. Nope. My heart wasn’t built for this.
And this heart, which was filling with unruly feelings lately, had to be—and would be—policed back. Just as soon as Sebastian left Coral Bay.
WHEN I WOKE UP, MYcottage smelled of fresh coffee, and a pot waited for me on the kitchen counter. But no Sebastian.
I showered and got dressed, then hurried to the main building.
On the way there, I stopped only to check in on cabins seven and eight, which were now nearly finished and opened for bookings as early as next week.
When I got to the scaffolded house, I could feel my stupid heart both relieved and racing at the sight of Sebastian’s rental still parked outside.
I met Sandra at reception. “Are Dave and Sebastian here?” I asked, masking my urgency by adding Dave’s name.
“At the work site,” she gestured with her head toward the upper floor. “Ruby, the restaurant is going to be at full capacity tonight, Mr. Harris said.”
“Amazing. Thanks, Sandra.”
At night, there was no hammering. The dust settled, the workers were gone, and the scaffolding disappeared into the dark. The new deck and fresh paint at the Bar & Grill brought out the best in it. The ocean just beyond did the rest.
I didn’t want to hide from Sebastian, so I marched right up and greeted both him and Dave.
“Ruby,” Sebastian said, breaking from Dave and walking toward me.
Something in his expression startled me. But when he spoke, I realized it had nothing to do with last night.
This was a different kind of jolt.
