“Then what’s the point of owning it?” he asked.
“It’s prime real estate.” I shrugged. “He bought it a few months ago. Plans to tear down the existing structure and build something new.”
“What an amazing use of extravagant wealth,” Scott mumbled.
“Am I sensing a little negativity here?”
“No, just being a sore loser.”
“Well, don’t be,” I said, leading the way. “Did I complain when you took me to Cosmic Nights at the roller rink?”
“You said you liked it.”
“I did. But only after I got used to the idea of putting on smelly two-dollar rental shoes that had been worn by thousands before me. My point is, even though I’m pretty sure I got scabies, I didn’t complain. And we had fun. So put that negativity away, and I’ll show you a good time. Starting with… this.”
I swept my arms wide as the path opened and the beach stretched out before us. Moonlight glazed the water in a silver sheet. The surf was softer here, muted by the cove. If anyone could appreciate a quiet stretch of ocean, it was Scott.
A smile swept over him, relaxing something in me. I finallyunderstood why he took me to places he’d seen a hundred times before and treated them like they were new: because seeing something through someone else’s eyesdoesmake it new. Beaches like this had always existed in my world, and I’d taken them for granted. But tonight, it felt different. Like maybe this place could give Scott something I couldn’t.
I took a seat in the sand, and he dropped down beside me, close enough that our shoulders brushed. We sat there listening to the waves breaking.
“I shouldn’t have said anything back there,” Scott admitted.
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not like I sit around crying about it. Shit happens. You move on. And it isn’t anyone’s business but my own.”
His words came out rougher than I think he meant.
“Am I just anyone?”
He paused, thinking… and then his smile widened. “Michelle Carver. There’s no one like you.”
“Then show me,” I said, bumping his shoulder. “Let me in a little. I promise I’ll be gentle… mostly.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me something about your mom.”
He looked out at the ocean and smiled. “Shower thoughts,” he said. “She’d have them every morning.”
“Shower what?”
“Shower thoughts. You know, life’s unexplained mysteries.” He shrugged. “Every morning she’d pour me a bowl of cereal and tell me what random thought came to her in the shower. And now I carry the same gift.”
“Like what? Give me one.”
“Why don’t they build a reverse microscope so the little bacteria guys can see us clearly?”
I blinked. “Why would they need to see us?”
“I don’t know. That’s the point. Maybe if they got to know us, they’d stop trying to kill us.”
“I… guess.” I laughed, not sure if he was serious or what. “Maybe keep those thoughts to yourself. We wouldn’t want one tiny bacterium to land you in quarantine… in a padded cell.”
“Exactly why I haven’t shared them until now.”
“Thank you for trusting me with… that.” I leaned in and kissed him. “I love that your mother gave you your humor.”
