Her eyes widen.
“That isn’t a chat-up line.”
“No one would come up with something this intricate to fuck me. Most men don’t even ask my name.”
“Those guys at the bar were fools. You’re way too good for them.”
She waves away my comment with a smile. “Do you miss home?”
“Every day, and it’s getting worse, but I’m terrified I’ll be ill again. I’ve locked myself away. My family doesn’t know where I am because they’d make me return home. I haven’t spoken to anyone about anything beyond surface stuff since I left in February. My sister’s stressed with the family business, but I left her to deal with it, and some days I’m so fucking angry with the world and myself. I’m lucky I survived, yet I’m constantly scared and empty. What if I can’t go home?”
I gasp for air. I’ve held all my emotions in for months.
“I’m sorry you’ve dealt with all of that. Your family probably misses you and worries about you.”
“They do. And I miss them, too. But what if I’m never okay?”
“Then you see someone and get them to help you. You’re not alone. You’re never alone, as no matter what happens, someone always wants to care about you, but finding those people and letting them care is difficult.”
She stares at the sea and adds, “But be aware. You’ll never be who you were before. You’ll be a new version of yourself.”
I glance at her, and she glows with an inner beauty. My stomach clenches in delight. I haven’t felt that in a long time. “You’re pretty clever for someone into rugby.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “And you’re okay for a thirty-year-old man wearing sliders.”
We share a look of something. Maybe hope—and something more.
“Bella, I can’t take away your anxiety about the future and chasing your dreams, but you’ve helped me with mine, so if I can help you in any way, please tell me.”
“I guess, what I’m really scared of”—she pauses, and I fixate on how her jaw tightens—“is letting everyone down.”
“But what if you don’t? What if you achieve your dreams and it inspires others?”
She shivers, and I offer her my jacket. She wraps it tightly around her as we watch the water.
“If you could be a mermaid or a dragon, which would you choose?” I ask, returning to our silly questions.
“Mermaids are kind of hot,” she ponders, and I get filthy thoughts of her in a fancy dress costume, hair covering her breasts. I need to get out more. “But I’ve always wanted to fly.”
“Like a bird?”
“Like a base jumper.” Her eyes twinkle in the moonlight. “What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done?”
I can’t answer that without revealing who I am, and I still don’t want to share it. I like this version of me. This is the closest I’ve felt to free in a long time. “No comment.”
She fixes me with her stare. “It must be really bad and embarrassing, like…naked sky diving or sex in a plane toilet,” she teases. “If you’re not going to answer, then you must do a dare.” She glances at the cliff looming above us. “I dare you to do something scary.”
“Like sex in a plane toilet?”
She giggles. She has the most beautiful and cheeky smile. “I don’t see any planes here. What scary thing can I make you do?”
“Just holding hands without using my sanitiser is scary.” It’s nice to be able to joke again. “I’ll only do something scary if you do it as well and if it involves getting off this sand. My butt’s cold.”
“I have an idea, but…” She pauses as she looks up at the cliff again. “Fine. I’m fed up with being scared of things that shouldn’t scare me and being anxious about everything. It’s time to do something that gives me fear for the right reasons.”
She lets go of my hand and jumps up. “But we have to take our clothes off?—”
My eyes widen nearly as much as hers
