Aurora rolled her eyes. “Absolutelynot.Don’tbe silly.You’retoo cute to look that delusional.”
I laughed loud and long as a wave crashed just feet away, flooding us up to our waists.Itossed my arm aroundAuroraand held her tight to my side as the undertow began to wash out to sea.
“You’re not done.”
She snorted. “Ohyeah?Areyou psychic or something?”
“Nah,”Isaid asIloosened my grip, but didn’t let her go. “I’vejust gotten to watch you.You’renot done.Notby a long shot,Wander.You’renot a question mark, curious and unsure.You’renot a comma, taking things slowly.You’rea period.Afull stop.Youdon’t meander.You’rean exclamation point.Somethingexplosive and dynamic.There’snothing mediocre or pensive about you.”
Aurora just shook her head. “Youdon’t know methatwell.”
A salt-sprayed strand of hair had fallen out of her bun.Itucked it behind her ear and cupped her cheek. “Thenlet me in and prove me wrong.”
22
AURORA
A NEIGHBORLY HAND
“Wow,” my mom said as she looked at the house through the lens of my phone. “Itlooks great.”
A little burst of pride filled my chest.Wehad connected this afternoon to check in about the renovation timeline and budget.Shewas just as antsy asIwas to get the house sold before property taxes became her problem.
“It’s coming along,”Isaid humbly. “Ithink we’re almost ready to paint everything.Takingdown the wallpaper, patching the holes, and priming took forever.”
“We?Didyou hire a painting company?”
“Oh, no,”Isaid. “Ilooked into one, but it was super expensive.It’lltake longer, but we’ll save money this way.”
“I see.Itjust sounded like you had someone there helping you.Didn’tyou say your friends came to visit?Didthey help?”
I laughed. “Theyhelped with demolition.Threewomen armed with sledgehammers, crowbars, and tequila were a fabulous combination.Itwas probably a good thing they were only here for a couple of days.”
“Sad they couldn’t stay longer.Iknow you don’t get to see them much,” she said asItrudged up the stairs to show her the second floor.
“Whitney’s on a book tour right now.Imight try to see her when she comes toNorthCarolina.”Istepped up onto the landing and moved my phone around so she could see the bedroom entrances and widow’s watch balcony. “Floorsand repairs are done up here.Jackfinished putting in the new light fixtures yesterday.Allthat’s left is to paint.”
“Jack?”
“Uh . . .”Istammered and stuttered, trying to find an explanation that didn’t include the bungee-cord emotions we both had.
NeitherJacknorIhad been able to sort out what we could handle, so we had settled on pretending like things weren’t becoming more and more complicated by the day.
He wanted more, but he had a hard time believing that he wouldn’t lose a love, and that they wouldn’t lose him.
I didn’t want more, butIcouldn’t deny the invisible pull he had on me.Iloved being aroundJack.Hewas funny and easygoing.Hehad his own things going on—his own job, life, and responsibilities—which meant that he didn’t constantly criticize or obsess over howIspent my time the way my ex had.
I had always struggled with relationships, even whenIwas in a good one.
I was independent.Iwanted a partner.Abest friend.Someonewho would share life with me.Icouldn’t deal with another partner who would drag me around on an emotional leash or make me give them a piggyback ride through life.
I didn’t want someone in front of me or behind me.Iwanted a partner in every sense of the word.Iwanted someone beside me.
But this . . . this was temporary.Iwas here for the summer and nothing more.
Maybe the dead aunt cliché and the bad weather cliché weren’t only in the books, but falling in love after a few weeks of forced proximity definitely was.
It wasn’t love.Iwas under the spell of summer sun and seaside magic.
