Later, they say goodbye, and when Silvie hugs Jonah again, he pats her back. Summer and Silvie then head to the dance floor, and music swells through the bar. Laughter follows them like a trail, and eyes in the bar lock on them as well. I hate that. I don’t want anyone looking at Silvie.
I turn back to Jonah, who’s watching me watch them. He grins, slowly and knowing.
“Stop it,” I murmur.
“This one’s different,” he says.
“No, she’s not,” I say dryly.
But she totally is. I can’t deny it. I have no idea what’s happening here. I’m rejecting all of these feelings, but they’re still coming at me head-on like a freight train.
I wipe the bar and pretend everything is fine.
Jonah stands to leave, laying down bills even though it’s his own bar. “You gonna keep pretending or are you going to let yourself live a little?”
“I live plenty,” I argue.
He arches a brow. “You surf at dawn, work the bar, take care of your momma. You do that rinse and repeat. That’s not living, son.”
I don’t answer because I don’t know what to say. The music shifts, and Silvie’s intoxicating laugh fills the air. She tips her head back, dancing, that flower behind her ear, bouncing with her movement. They spin, and both laugh as they sing along to a popular beach song.
“Don’t be stupid,” Jonah says as he takes off.
Too late.
I keep working, thankful for the distraction. Orders come in and go out. I send glasses to be washed and polished. The night air thickens. But my attention is never far from Silvie. And judging by how she’s looking at me, hers is never far as well. Silvie closes her eyes and dances to the music like she belongs. Confident, and she knows exactly who she is. She says she’s trying to find herself this summer. I bet she doesn’t need to find herself. She’s been there all along, just waiting to discover herself.
She meets up with Mia and her Salty Pages co-owner, Juniper, and they all order waters and keep dancing.
Yeah, she’s different. Jonah’s right.
The bar finally empties just after one. We’ve got all the chairs up and the lights low. The waves crash outside, and I’m still running on high energy even though my body is tired in that good way from work. And, naturally, I can’t stop thinking about Silvie.
I set the last clean glass behind the bar and step out to lock up. Silvie is outside, sitting in one of the chairs, sandals on the ground beside her, her toes brushing a pattern in the sand. Her dress is wrinkled from dancing, and her hair’s wild, the flower gone.
She looks up when she sees me and smiles like she’s been here a while. “You’re finally done.”
“Been waiting?” I ask, surprised.
“Summer ditched me,” she says cheerfully. “She has an early yoga class in the morning and needs her sleep.”
I grin and lock the door, tucking the keys into my pocket. “That tracks. What about you? Don’t you need your sleep, too?”
“Yeah, except I’m used to not getting that much sleep.”
She yawns, despite her words, as she absently reaches for her sandals beside her and misses. Without skipping a beat, I kneel in front of her to assist. I pick up one of the sandals and our eyes meet. Her eyebrows are drawn together as if she doesn’t know what to think about me wanting to help her with her shoes.
That makes two of us.
Yet, I grip her delicate ankle in my grip and slide her shoe on. Once I set her foot back down, I pick up the other sandal. She offers me her other bare foot. I grab onto it, rubbing my thumb over the top of it, liking the softness of her smooth skin.
The air is charged between us, neither of us speaking, as I slip her other shoe on.
Once they’re both on, she shyly smiles as I rise to my feet. I offer her a hand, which she takes, and pull her to her feet.
“You good getting home?”
“I just thought we could walk together,” she says. “If that’s okay.”
