I blink, trying to find my footing again. “Yeah, but not like the orange you find everywhere at Hallowe?—”
“You like the softer oranges that you can only find at dawn and dusk,” he finishes for me, casting a smile at me. “I didn’t know if it had changed while I was gone, but I’m glad it didn’t.”
It feels like he just cracked my chest open, and the rawness of his admission causes me to blurt out a truth of my own.
“I tried to paint you.” My voice cracks, and I lift my hand to toy with my necklaces. “I paint now. I don’t know if I’ve told you that, or if you already know, but I tried to paint you. I couldn’t get it right, though.”
I don’t know what I’m hoping he’ll say, but I don’t think he’s going to judge me for it.
“Can I see it?” he asks, and I probably should have thought of this being a possibility.
“But I just said I didn’t get it right. Why would you want to see it?”
God, the thought of Bailey seeing just how closely I pay attention to him terrifies me. I guess I could try to play it off that I drew Hunter until I changed my mind, but it won’t explain the subtle differences between them you can only know by paying attention.
Bailey has a splash of freckles across his nose that darken to become more noticeable when he spends a lot of time in the sun, and his face is slightly narrower than Hunter’s. The most noticeable differences now are the scar across Bailey’s forehead, cutting into his hairline, and when Hunter’s wearing his glasses instead of contacts.
“Because you made it, and I’m sure it’s better than you think.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“Well if you ever want to try again, all you have to do is ask. I’d be happy to pose like a French girl for you,” he jokes, and I choke on a laugh, swiveling to face him.
“I’m sorry. Did you just make a joke?”
What’s even more surprising than Bailey making a joke is the grin on his face, and I can’t help thinking how beautiful he looks in the morning light.
“Just wanted you to know the impossible was possible,” he says, and I reach into the water to splash him.
“How kind of you,” I muse, smiling at him. “I’m afraid it might actually be impossible to capture the level of broodiness you have going on. It’s a shame you’re a blond. You’re practically the epitome of tall, dark, and mysterious. The blond just kind of ruins it,” I say, and Bailey’s head tips back as a deep, rattling laugh leaves him.
I feel my smile widen, pulling at my cheeks. It reminds meof when there’s a break in the clouds on a stormy day, and the sun finally peeks through.
He’s not broody. Bailey’s sunlight just isn’t ready to come out from behind the storm yet, but it will.
“Guess I’ll have to buy some box dye at the grocery store. I’d hate for my hair to ruin your painting.”
This feels so familiar. “No,” I say, laughing. “I wouldn’t change anything about you. You’re still my best friend, but I don’t need you to pose like a French girl.” God, trying to paint Bailey while he poses nude is definitely not what Hunter had in mind when he said he was okay with us hanging out.
“I’m still your best friend?” he asks, his eyebrows knitting together as if the very idea confuses him.
Why wouldn’t he be?
“Yeah. Just because you left, it didn’t change. It’s okay if I’m not yours anymore,” I say, hoping it doesn’t sound as awkward as I feel. The water laps at my legs, and the ocean seems to be calming by the minute. I’m not even sure I care I didn’t catch any waves. It’s been nice just sitting here floating with Bailey. “How long have you been out here?”
“A while. I couldn’t stop thinking about every way today can go wrong,” Bailey says, and now I feel bad for even asking the question.
“Javi’s going to be okay, B.”
“I hope so. I need him to be okay. I mean, Javi’s just a kid. He deserves to be a kid, you know?” He huffs, dragging a hand through his hair. There’s an edge of vulnerability to Bailey that reminds me of just how deeply he feels everything, even if he doesn’t always let it show.
“I know he does, just like I know you did everything you could to keep him safe. You have to trust the doctors know what they’re doing, and believe in Javi.”
I don’t know if I’ve said the right thing, but I’m not sure there’s anything I can say to make Bailey feel better.
The whole world seems to fall still as Bailey turns toward me. It feels easier to breathe—like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.
His entire face softens, and I’m keenly aware of my heart thumping against my ribcage.
