His hand tightens around mine. “Sorry for that. I guess I’m sort of like a bull in a China shop when it comes to women sometimes.” Is he attempting to say I make himnervous?
“You should just be yourself,” Itellhim.
“Well, this is me, right now.” The person he’s claiming to be is so different than the other person he’s beenportraying.
“Why actdifferently?”
“You make me nervous,” he says. “Now that I’ve had a glass of wine, I feel like I can be honest, I guess.” He laughs at his words, but Idon’t.
This is me, now and all the time, so there’s no reason to be nervous around me. I’m not sure I understand where he’scomingfrom.
The path we’re walking on opens into an area of small pebbles and leads up to a short cliff overlooking the moonlit ocean at high-tide. The beach looks the way it did the first night Iarrivedhere.
“Tell me something about yourself,” I say. I know he surfs and teaches lifeguarding classes, but I need more before I make an accurate decisionabouthim.
“Hmm,” he says, leaning forward on the railing that separates us from the edge of the cliff. “I have two more younger brothers, but they’re at home with my parents. I own a design business that I manage between the hours of surfing and teachingclasses.”
“What do youdesign?”
“Decals and logos for surfboards mostly, but I do some commercialstufftoo.”
“So you’re an artist.” I guess I feel the need to define hiscareer.
“I don’t call myself an artist, but kind of, Iguess.”
“So, you’re a humble artist,” and that earns you a couple of points in my book. “I’d love to see some of your designs sometime. “I just got my degree in journalism, and I’m big into the arts—the visual kind and the type made fromwords.”
“That’s pretty sweet. So, what kind of job will you eventually belookingfor?”
The job Dad thinks I have... “Eventually, I want to write self-help books, but I’ll probably start with an internship at a newspaper or magazine if I can. I want to get some editing experience under my belt, which is what my poor dad thinks I’m doing for the summer, because I’m acompletejerk.”
He glances over at me with surprise in his eyes. “Wow, you lied to your dad, and you want to write self-help?” There’s a teasing tone to his question, but it hits home since it’s already eating awayatme.
“Yeah, I feel kind of shitty about it, but I just wanted one more summer to avoid life responsibilities. I need to get my head straight, Iguess.”
Sterling shifts his body, leaning his hip against the railing now. “Funny, since you’ve been acting so responsible, being worried about keeping your heart, or my heart—both of our hearts—safe, for whatever happens months from now.” I can’t argue. He’s right. I promised myself one last summer of letting loose andbeingfree.
“You’re right,” I tell him.I think he’s taking my agreement in many forms as his warm hand slithers around my back, slowly pulling me into him. My heart aches as his knuckles brush softly against my cheek. “One chance?”heasks.
As if instinctually, I bite down on my bottom lip, glancing up into his sparkling eyes. I try to agree verbally, but only air escapes my lungs. I gather it’s enough of an answer for him as he leans down and touches the tip of his nose to mine. The wine on his breath is sweet, and part of my tongue is craving the taste.No responsibilities. No heartache.Breaking all rules, I close my eyes, allowing his nose to sweep against the side of mine, ever so slowly making the seconds between our last words and his lips touching mine feel like aneternity.
Sterling’s mouth is soft against mine, his lips loose as he feathers his touch against the nerve endings of my lips. The sensation of his hand slipping through the ends of my hair before firmly clutching the back of my head brings warmth to the kiss, as his lips turn more onerous against mine. His free hand rests on the small of my back, and the simple touch of his fingertips burns through the thin material of my dress, making me silently plead for this kiss to last longer.From the second he touches his lips to mine, I lose track of time. I have no idea how many seconds or minutes have passed, but it doesn’t seem like enough time when he pulls away, simultaneously wrapping a loose strand of my hair behindmyear.
“Wow,” he says, scratching at his chin. “Here I thought I’d be sweeping you off your feet, and somehow, I think you might have stolen all that clout I had built up in my head. You’re something else.”Why am I feeling the same about him?Freakingwine.
There’sa kiss that leads to more, and there’s a kiss that makes you say “wow.” More leads to something else and “wow” leads to amemory.
The crunching of small rocks and broken shells is the only sound I hear as we walk back to the fire pit. Jade will know by the look in my eyes. There is no hiding truths from her, despite the massive truth she managed to hide from me for an entiremonth.
When we return, something inside of me warms as I watch the smile on Jade’s face, seeing her laugh at whatever Cleary just said to her. It’s not that Jade hasn’t been happy these past few days, but there has been a loss stirring within her, something I seem to be unable tohelpwith.
I glance down at my watch, noticing it’s already eleven. I told Samantha I would be back by midnight so I don’t wake up the wholehouse.
“I need to get going,” Itellthem.
“You have a curfew?” Sterlingteases.
“I’m staying with the family I’m working for, and I don’t want to wakeeveryoneup.”
