Kate lets out a belly laugh that echoes out toward the beach. “You practically grovel at my feet the moment I head for the door. ‘Stay, Kate. Don’t go, Kate,’” she says, a poor attempt at mimicking as she clasps her hands together at her chest.
“You could easily leave, no problem. You,ma’am,only have yourself to blame.” Her cheeks pinch at the small bit of Southern accent I let slip out. She gives me a heck of a time any chance she gets when the Texas twang slips out. But she has two accents: herwannabe-SouthernOklahoma accent, as she calls it, and the feisty Filipino accent that happens when she bickers with her aunts and uncles.
Wrapping the blanket tightly around her, she rests her head against her raised knees and settles her eyes on my hands resting on my chest. Her blinks are slow but focused, sleep beckoning her as we sit. “I’m sorry you feel lonely too.”
Tilting my head toward her, I smile. “I don’t feel lonely right now.”
Her sleepy eyes brighten as a smile stretches across her face—a beautiful, unabashed smile—as she shyly asks, “Really?”
“I’m never lonely with you, Kate.”
She closes her eyes and gives a hum in response, the smile still firmly in place.
“You know…” My words stretch as I sprawl my legs out and roll my neck, easing the tension in my joints. “I could spend every moment with you, and that’s all I’d ever need,” I say matter-of-factly, like I’m telling her the time, keeping my gaze fixed on the black sky ahead.
A beat of silence passes before I look back to her for a response. Her head is cocked at an unnatural angle as she staresat me, still hugging her knees. Her smile has been replaced with the classic deer-in-headlights face.
“What?” I ask, concerned about the immovable expression she’s giving me.
“Every moment.” Her words are robotic, like it’s a statement she is still processing.
I replay what I said, realizing how crazy it must sound to her. Every moment with her.Slow your roll, Geer.Sitting up, I run my hand down my face and smooth out my beard. I twist uncomfortably in my seat, the words weighing me down like they come with their own gravitational pull. I roll my neck and arch my back, fighting the tightness moving all over me.
You said it, Malcolm. You can’t take it back.
“Look, I just…” I groan and drop my head. Kate hasn’t moved from her perched position. Taking a deep breath, I face the music. “I’m just saying that I’m not lonely when I’m with you. I’m actually happy. And I guess if spending time with you is what makes me feel this way, then I don’t want to stop doing it.” Giving another shrug, I lean over and rest my arms on my knees. I’ve never been one to lie. But I’ve also never been one to throw my feelings out there like they’re candy at a parade. I just did both—withheld the full truth while simultaneously telling her how I feel about her.
What is wrong with me?
My common sense is shriveling up like a prune from the lack of routine and reality since being here. We’re here for work, but my brain isn’t registering. It must be operating under some vacation-mode umbrella. That is the only explanation for my erratic actions lately.
Kate clears her throat—the first noise she’s made in about five minutes—adjusting herself in the chair to a more relaxed position. “You know I feel the same way, right?”
It’s a whisper, but it hits my ears like a siren.
Some instinctive part of me is triggered by her words, and the smile she gives with them, like it’s only meant for me. Without hesitation, I pull her blanket back and take her hand. I could shake it. I could just hold it. But no, I take her small, delicate hand and press it against my chest, covering it with mine. For some reason, right now, I need her to feel my heart stutter at her touch. I need her to feel my shaky breath as she rubs her thumb across my sternum. I need her to believe me when I tell her that I’m not lonely when I’m with her. That I am the happiest I have ever been, and it’s because of her.
I keep our hands firmly against my chest as I lean closer to her, cataloging each intricately woven detail. The pink in her cheeks is more prominent the closer I get, the small freckle just underneath her nose is clearer, and the parting of her lips is evident when we’re inches apart.
My throat bobs, and a gust of wind blows her hair in my direction, the lavender intoxicating. “Kate…” I hesitate.
“Yes?” Her warm breath hits my lips as her dark eyes dance all over my face.
“I've been wanting to—”
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
I’m interrupted by a blaring alarm and flashing lights from inside our hotel room.
“Is that the fire alarm?” Kate’s yell is muffled by the constant screech overhead.
I nod, knowing full well my words won’t be heard over the noise, and pull her behind me as we race out of the room. Piggy pajamas are on full display as we rush down the stairwell. The sound is jarring the entire way, sending a creeping ripple of distress up my spine as we make it out of the lobby.
Just about everyone and their dog tumbles out of the doors like their lives depend on it. We find our group, and Iimmediately do a head count. “Where is Johnson?” I snap at the guys.
“Over here,” Devon groans, lounging on an outside bench by the street. His arms are slung over his face. He looks like hell.
“What’s wrong with him?” Kate asks.
