“Go away, Nash,” I sneer.
It only adds fuel, and Nash continues his quest to arrive right in front of me. He extends his arm to touch my elbow, but I yank my arm away with a scowl.
“I was going to give you space, but I can’t. We should talk about this.” He’s adamant.
I scoff a laugh to myself. “I don’t even know where to begin.” My eyes move in all directions as I become aware of another fact. “How the hell do we keep ending up on this dock?”
Fuck him for smirking. “Maybe this time we won’t endup in the water.” My death stare causes him to sober up his humor. “This was always a spot for us, long before. It seems it hasn’t changed. What better location to talk than here? The guests get live entertainment, too.” His attempt to make me laugh falls flat.
I charge forward and grip his shirt in pure frustration. “Now is not the time for jokes. I’m about to have a meltdown. No,I ammelting down.”
Nash remains composed and encircles my wrists to keep my arms in place. “Why is that?”
It’s happening again today. That wave of an uncontrollable blur of feelings cannonballing through me. “Because I feel guilty. It’s crazy, but I do. I should still be mourning, not making out with my dead husband’s brother. It feels like I’m still sneaking around behind his back.”
My words must hit Nash hard as he instantly recoils, letting my wrists fall. “Damn it, Summer. That thought has to snap out of your head.”
I shake my head. “It confuses me.”
“No shit. Your mixed thoughts caused you to kiss me.”
“I wanted to see if that fire is still between us,” I almost shout then realize what I just admitted and halt.
Nash snickers. “You really needed to test that? That’s a bad excuse.”
I grab my hair as I sink through a hole. “Is it? Back then, you let me go. You moved on as if I was a mistake. Why wouldn’t I have my guard up?”
His face turns dark, his eyes seething with a mix of anger. “You want to know something, Summer?” I look blankly at him because it wasn’t a question. “That necklace that you sometimes wear? The one hanging around your neck?” My eyes drop down, and I clasp the treasure chest. “I told him to get it. He was determined to buy you a flower or some shitlike that, and I told him he should get you the treasure chest, a lucky guess I said. I left before I could see if he heard me or not. Seems he did. And you know why I told him?”
I swallow, wanting my heart to stop the spark that might explode. “Don’t tell me,” I breathlessly implore.
His eyes inform me that he won’t listen to me. “Because you never fucking left my mind.”
My eyes sting with tears. “You’re making this worse.”
He steps to me and slides his hand along my cheek to the back of my head, giving me no choice but to face his resolve. “I’m supposed to be in Lake Spark to make it better.”
“Everything hurts,” I simply answer.
His thumb wipes away a lone tear falling down my cheek, and he pauses for a second when his sight locks on the view of my scar. “It doesn’t need to.” His whisper scrapes his throat.
My cheek nestles into his palm. “I’m not sure what that looks like yet.”
Nash gives me a comforting look. “Me neither, but I want to find out.”
My heart is gravitating toward him. I’m conflicted about whether I should feel guilty or not.
“I need to get out of here.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “Are you sure you don’t want to push me into the water?”
He always knows when to attempt to calm me. “Shut up, Nash.” I’m not in the mood.
His hand falls away, and I give myself a moment to study him, wondering about his intentions now that he’s back.
It’s clear as day, he has no qualms about what he wants, and at least that’s honest.
Sittingon the couch in the living room, I have music on and pour myself a glass of wine then set the bottle on the coffee table. Bo is asleep, and I’m aware that Nash will be returning home any moment. I’m sure he found every excuse under the sun to stay away for the last few hours. My small sip turns into a less-than-elegant near chug. It’s been that kind of day.
