When Josh is done, he sets his container aside and leans back on his elbows, spreading his legs out in front of him.
I do the same but turn on my side to look at him. The sun is warm up here on the high sand, and I have a delicious urge to curl into Josh and take a nap. I let myself wonder again what might’ve happened if Cara had never died. If Josh had never left. We planned on telling her about us after the football game, the night of the accident. But I also had things to say, and I never got the chance.
I drove with Liam and Cara to the game because that’s what we always did. It would’ve been weird if I told her I was going with Josh, and I’d meet them there. After the accident, I wished I’d gone with Josh. I wished I’d have told her before the game and maybe she would’ve gotten so mad, we’d have been late and missed that drunk driver. There are so many should-haves and what-ifs attached to that night.
Josh and I were so excited to tell Cara. We actually thought she’d be happy for us. I’m sure she would have been. A dull ache settles in my chest at the memories flooding my brain. We never got the chance.
“You okay?” Josh asks, shading his eyes and squinting at me. “You’re awfully quiet.”
“I was just thinking…”
Josh furrows his brow in question.
“About the night of the accident. How we’d planned to tell Cara about us,” I continue.
Josh’s face falls and he sucks in a breath. “Oh, yeah, that.” He sits up, turning to face me. I do the same. When Josh looks at me, his eyes are tender. He tucks a stray hair behind my ear and lets his hand linger on my cheek for a split second. It’s a gesture that feels natural and foreign all at the same time. “I’d like to think she would’ve been happy for us,” he murmurs.
“Yeah?” I ask, biting back a hopeful smile.
“Yeah. In fact, I know it.” Josh nods.
“I miss her,” I say sadly, looking down at my hands.
He offers me his hand and rubs tiny circles on my palm. “Me too,” he rasps. “Every day.” Josh keeps my hand in his and pushes to a stand, pulling me with him. We brush sand from our legs and pick up our trash. “We better get back so you can go to work.” He takes my trash from me and trudges ahead to the trash can as if he can’t escape the memories fast enough.
* * *
The last placeI want to be tonight is work, but I can’t call out on Andrew. Saturday nights in the summer get really busy. We really need two managers on. Thankfully, he did text me that he’s closing. After lunch on the beach with Josh, we raced back to my place, where I took a quick shower and put on my super attractive work clothes. Honestly, they’ve never bothered me before but with Josh watching my every move, suddenly I’m wildly self-conscious of the food smell ingrained in the fibers of the clothing, no matter how many times they’re washed. I made my best effort though, with a tight-fitting pair of jeans and enough body spray to fool my brain into forgetting about it.
I come out of my bedroom and find Josh sitting on the couch, idly strumming his guitar, a blank notebook open in front of him.
“Wow.” I beam when he looks up at me. “You wasted no time getting to work.”
Josh huffs. “If only I could actually write something,” he mutters. “So far, all I’ve got is this chord progression.” He starts strumming the chords G, D, E minor, and C.
I frown, a smirk twitching on my lips. “Are you playing ‘Wagon Wheel’?”
“Damnit, I am!” Josh taps his hand on the top of the guitar. “I thought I made that up.” He lets out an easy laugh, shaking his head.
“Stuck, are you?” I offer him a commiserative smile.
“I could really use a collaborative jam sesh,” he admits, pushing his lips together.
“I wish I could but, duty calls.” I walk toward my front door. When I turn back to say goodbye, I find his eyes fixed on me.
“Mel, think about it, okay? I’d love to play with you again.” His chin lifts, a hopeful expression dancing on his face.
I smile, turning to go. “Okay. Bye, Josh.”
I pull the door shut behind me.
* * *
Hours later,thereare too many of us behind the bar. Ashley, Maura, our barback Chris, and I don’t all fit. I’m getting frustrated, tripping over everyone, so I duck out. I run into Andrew as he’s coming out of the kitchen. “We can cut someone behind the bar, I think, if both of us are here,” I holler, pitching my voice over the noise of the bar.
“I’ll take a look,” Andrew calls back, already glancing toward the bar.
I push past him, heading for the office when he catches my elbow. “You okay?”
