Page 52

God, she had it bad.

Any other year, she would have been home in Wales, where it was already Christmas morning. She’d have been the first one up, brewing tea for her mam, grinding coffee for Seren, making a full Welsh breakfast. They’d exchange gifts. Her mam and Seren would chat over sparkling mead while she tried to recreate her father’s recipe for laverbread in the kitchen. They’d all paste on a smile, stumbling through the holiday, pretending there wasn’t a giant black hole in their lives that never got any smaller.

She hadn’t missed a Christmas with them since her dad passed away. She hadn’t dared. It was what she owed to them—her time, her presence, her willingness to share in the silent hurt that came with every holiday. It was her penance for all the heartache she had caused, the sorrow they’d endured brought on by her own making.

Never had they blamed her. Not once in all the years had her mam or Seren cast a single word of fault in her direction. They hadn’t had to. She’d cloaked herself in guilt, carrying it like a millstone from which she could never escape.

Which, perhaps was why, when she’d mentioned Kam to her sister, she’d woken up the next morning to an email from her mother about the race in Santa Monica.

I think you should go to this.

Dillon had emailed back.Can’t. It’s over the holidays.

Her mam had replied:You should do what feels right.And immediately after, the following P.S.:Seren says you really like this girl. Please go, for all our sakes.Her stoic English mother had closed it with a winking face.

Five thousand miles later, her mam, as usual, had been right.

“I don’t know what else you’d expect me to be thinking about,” Dillon razzed Kam as she threw the car into drive. “That swim is one of the most famous water crossings in the world.”

“Well, if it’s caught that much of your attention, perhaps you’d like to drop me off at my parents’ place so you can give it a go tonight? I wouldn’t want to be a distraction.”

“Ohh,” Dillon cast her a sideways smile, “salty.” They’d rolled to a stop at the end of the drive, the headlights fanning the iron gates as they slowly swung open. “I like this side of you, Kam-Kameryn.”

“Yeah?” Kam pulled her bare feet from the dash, twisting in her seat to face her. “Tell me,” she leaned as close as the seatbelt would allow before reaching a finger to trace a line from Dillon’s ear, across her neck, and down to the top button of her blouse. “Do you like this side of me enough to table your one-track mind for the rest of the evening?”

Despite her eyes never leaving the road, Dillon nearly clipped the Hallwells’ mailbox.

“Trust me, it’s not that one-track,” she said, veering back to the center of the tree-lined street rolling out through the darkness. “It’s got plenty of latitude for wandering.”

“I see,” Kam smiled smugly as she abruptly withdrew her roaming fingertips and flopped back in her seat. “Then I guess I’ll stick around.” She flipped on the radio and closed her eyes. “Turn right on Marsh Rd. North on 101. Forty-five-minute drive and we’ll dead end right into Aquatic Cove, which is where theswim ends. The race isn’t until June, so you’ve got a little time to work it into your schedule.”

Surprised, Dillon glanced over to see the corners of Kam’s lips flicker in the light of the display panel.

“You think I’m considering doing that summer race, do you?” she asked, glad Kameryn’s eyes were still shut so she couldn’t see her idiotic smile.

Apparently she wasn’t the only one looking toward the future.

“I don’t know what happened! There are usually hundreds of them here.” Kam’s voice was muffled from behind the upturned collar where she had bundled herself into Dillon’s jacket.

They’d found parking in one of the structures along the waterfront, and without much discussion between them, Kam had led the way down to the sea lion platform at the end of the tourist pier. It was after midnight, the streets were vacant, and the city was covered in a fine mist that turned the festive lights of the holiday into a starburst of color.

Dillon doubted marine life observation was a pressing subject on either of their minds, but she’d humored Kam all the same.

“I’m beginning to think you just like to lure me onto dark piers in the middle of the night to keep me up past my bedtime.”

The docks below them were empty, with only a trio of the slumbering sea mammals hauled-out on the algae-covered jetty. Beyond the breakwater, Alcatraz flashed its silent warning as the mountainous silhouette of a cargo ship glided across the still surface of the bay.

“Hey, I’m not the one to be blamed for your lost sleep tonight.” Kam hooked her index fingers in the pockets of Dillon’s trousers, drawing her off the railing. “You turned downa perfectly good offer to stay with my parents where you could have caught all the Zs you wanted.”

“It would have been a little awkward, don’t you think, when I declined the guest sofa?”

Kam laughed but didn’t immediately respond. In the dim glow of the pier lighting, it was difficult to make out her expression, to guess where her thoughts had drawn her. She’d grown nervous, Dillon knew, despite her bold banter, and had been stalling since they’d reached the city.

“I, um—I just wanted to say—before we—well, before I forget. I wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?” It wasn’t what Dillon had been expecting. “What for?”

“All of it. Everything. For flying here when I know you could be home with your family. For convincing me to go to that stupid party. For reminding me how much I missed my parents. For coming with me. For laughing off the Hallwells and not allowing them to get under your skin. For—I don’t even know—for making me feel like—like it’s okay to just be me.” She retreated behind an embarrassed laugh. “God, I’ll stop now. I’m rambling.”