Everett reaches his hand to my cheek, sweeping his thumb from the side of my nose to my ear. The touch of his fingers and the wafting aroma of soap stings me with desire, making me weak in the knees. “Why don’t we find your bicycle and put it in the backseat of my car. I’ll take you home, or to the corner of your street. Would that be okay?”
Couldn’t we just stay here until tomorrow night? I could stare into his eyes for longer than that, but I’d be okay with just a day’s time. “Thank you. I would be grateful for the ride.”
14
July 1941
I couldn’t be moreimproper while running down my street, shoes in my hand, hair flying in the wind, and a smile painted along my lips from ear to ear. But Everett’s car is in sight. I might become so good at this little game that I’ll be able to jump into the car without him having to stop at all.
“You are making me dizzy, doll. What are you doing running all the way down here without shoes on?”
“Well, I’m hiding you from my father, of course. You want to go out tonight, don’t you?”
“You know, I don’t think you’re giving me enough credit. Dads love me. I can turn up the charm,” Everett says, flashing me a Hollywood wink while pulling into the nearest driveway to turn around.
“Oh, I’m aware of your ability to be charming, but is it an act, Lieutenant Anderson?”
Everett twists his grip around the steering wheel and leans his head back as if feeling defeat. “What do I have to do to get you to believe me, doll-face? I’m not one of those goons out fishing for broads every night, despite your assumptions.”
“My assumptions,” I question. “Exactly, what do you think I’m assuming, Lieutenant?” I lift a brow, inquisitively waiting for his response.
I watch the thoughts muster behind his teasing smile. “You must think I have a reputation that precedes the ones of other celebrities you hear gossip about. You know most of it is rubbish, right?”
I wonder if all stars are trained to deny the stories. I guess I could offer him the benefit of the doubt. “Oh, I know. I just find it surreal that you would want to spend time with me, of all people.”
“Just you, beautiful.” Everett loops his arm around my neck, pulling me in closer across the front seat.
“Where are we going?”
Everett adjusts his sunglasses as we take a turn toward the setting rays bouncing off the water. “Your favorite place, of course.”
“You’re taking me to the beach?” I sound giddy at the thought, which is ridiculous seeing as I live on an island.
“Why, where else would you want to go on a beautiful night like tonight?” Every night is beautiful here. It’s one thing I’ve never taken for granted, and one thing I will miss when I choose to leave this island to see more of the world someday.
It’s clear Everett puts time into considering my thoughts and feelings, and it’s an unfamiliar experience I’m growing fonder of by the day.
The time we have spent together feels like years when it has been just a few occurrences over the last couple of weeks. I’ve experienced the rush of a schoolgirl crush, wanting what I can’t have, and daydreaming about a person who couldn’t be more out of my league, but this is different. This chance of a lifetime is staring me in the face and waiting with open arms. My mind tells me I should walk away right after I tell him that this relationship won’t end well for either of us, but my heart is hanging on. I believe in living in the current, and I promised myself to think of life as a cluster of last moments—each one being crucial to my happiness and fulfillment. If I listen to my heart, I’ll stay right where I am, and even though pain may follow this interlude, I must believe it’s worth whatever comes next.
It’s hard not to love that Everett already knows my favorite spot, my hiding place. Without hesitation, he pulled up to rocks overlooking the beach. “Don’t move a muscle. I am opening your door regardless if you appreciate the gesture, Miss.”
A rush of warmth washes through my cheeks as I watch him jog around the front of his car toward my door. He makes me feel like I’m the only other person in the world, and I didn’t know anyone could make me feel that way.
“How many hours have you spent sitting on this sand, under this dock, staring at sharp reflections of the moon bouncing off the ocean?” Everett inquires.
“Not enough.” It’s a simple answer. I could never spend enough time in this spot on the quiet beach. “This place is the gateway between heaven and earth. Where else would I want to be?”
Everett brushes his knuckles against my cheek, then twirls a strand of my hair around his finger. “I have a desire to know every thought spinning around in your busy mind. Listening to the descriptions of life through your eyes is like re-reading a favorite book. I can take comfort knowing your next words will bring a smile to my face and warmth to my heart.”
“You have recited many romantic screenplays, haven’t you, Lieutenant Anderson?” Maybe he doesn’t intend to recall poetic lines from scenes he’s read, but I question how anyone could feel so much intensity for me. Plain old me. I’m no different from any other woman. I have accomplished little of anything in my brief life, and I live in fear of my father. These facts are not noble characteristics to fawn over.
Everett doesn’t respond with much emotion on his face. He’s complacent and seems lost in thought. “Those are my words, Lizzie. It’s the way I feel. I don’t want you to see me as who I was before I came here. Please. Take me for who I am now—at this moment.”
How can I argue when I ask for the same in life? I refuse to discuss the future or the past. Both have unanswered questions that I don’t want to think about.
“Of course, I understand. I’m a little scared, I suppose.”
Everett stands up from the sand and sweeps the remnants from his pants. “I had no intention of frightening you. What can I do to fix this?”
