Page 23

Thirteen

W ith his thoughts whirling, Carson jogged to catch up to Julia.

What the fuck just happened? One second, they’d melted together, his fantasy come true.

The next, she iced him out, like someone splashed cold water on them.

The first Julia—she was the real one. The feel of her in his arms had been too good, too right, too much of everything he’d ever wanted. He couldn’t let her disappear on him.

“Hey,” he said as he fell into step beside her.

“Go away.” She was as pink as the plumeria she’d shown him earlier.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed.” In his fist, Julia’s nylon bag swung between them. He grabbed his shoes from it and hopped to put them on while keeping up with her.

She ducked around meandering concert-goers. “Can we not talk about this here? There are people everywhere.”

“Nobody knows us.”

“Nobody knows you .” She twisted her hair into a bun and cinched it tight. “For all I know my primary school teacher is nearby.”

Shame to discipline those lovely, wild curls.

“Did she like concerts?”

“The only personal details she shared was she grew up in Willow Bank village and was plagued by bunions. The point is she could be here. The walls have eyes.”

As he held the hotel door open, he bit his lips to keep from laughing. “You’re paranoid.”

“It’s reasonable paranoia.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“It is a thing. Psych 101 taught that delusional paranoia is a false belief, but reasonable paranoia is a fear that’s rooted in reality.” She nudged the elevator button. “It’s entirely reasonable someone might recognize me in my hometown.”

“But why would anyone care?”

“Spoken like someone who grew up in the second-largest US city.” She clasped her hands behind her neck.

“At heart, Azul Caye is a small town. This is tough to wrap your head around, but Azul Caye’s permanent population is five thousand.

Everybody’s up in each other’s business.

It can be good—like my dad’s friends and neighbors were angels when he was sick.

But it can also be a pain in the ass. Like, people notice if your car’s parked outside someone’s house overnight.

Not only do they notice, they pass the information along and ask about it the next time you buy a cantaloupe from them. ”

“That’s oddly specific.”

“Yeah, well, that happened when I was nineteen.”

Gravity tugged at his belly as the elevator rose.

He got not wanting negative attention. He’d been the center of a flood of conversations about his prospects after his accident, his potential for healing, the university rescinding its offer… His mother never protected his feelings, so every word occurred with him in the room.

This, though…

This thing between them wasn’t negative. They could be so good together. That was as clear as the Caribbean water, and he’d wait for her to catch up to him. Something he’d gotten right when he was eighteen—Julia Stone was endgame.

One kiss and he was a goner.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me.” He handed her the bag containing the blanket and anchors. “Here, by the way.”

She clutched it to her chest. “Thank you.”

He unlocked the door, then held it open for her. After flipping the security bar, he turned back to Julia. She stood behind a dinette chair, clutching it like she was a lion tamer holding a fierce creature at bay.

“Can I ask you something about the kiss?” he asked as he crossed the room to her.

“Why not?” she said. “It’s not like I’ll die from embarrassment.”

“Why do you care if people talk?”

She clapped a hand over her mouth. Through her fingers, she asked. “Are you kidding ?”

He peeled her fingers from her lips, wishing he could replace them with his mouth. “No, I’m not. Help me understand why other people’s potential opinions on an innocent kiss made you freeze up and run away.”

“That was not an innocent kiss.” She closed her eyes. After a brief temple massage, she opened them again. “I try to live as if anything I do appeared on the LA Times ’s front page, it wouldn’t embarrass me.”

He folded his arms. “Not the Azul Caye Reporter ?”

“The Times ’s subscription base is larger. And—” she spread her hands wide, like she was mimicking a marquee “—‘Julia Stone Tongue-Kisses Her Stepbrother on a Public Beach’ is a reputation killer.”

He laughed. “No one’s writing that headline. And it’s not like we grew up together.”

“Except we kind of did.” She clamped her hands behind her neck.

“Which is another problem. I shouldn’t kiss the person who made me feel terrible in high school.

That period of my life is why I try not to misstep in my personal conduct anymore.

Being helpful and deflecting attention is the best way to avoid being a target. ”

He sat on his bed, hard. He’d been a jackass to her. That wasn’t new. What he hadn’t realized, though, until this moment, was he was the MVP of her origin story. That he’d superglued a cracked, warped filter onto the lens she used to view herself.

A lump rose in his throat. “I wish I could erase everything. Fix it.”

“Me, too.” After a beat, she waved her hands between them, like she was wiping off a whiteboard. “Ignore that. It’s fine. We were kids, and I’m working on myself. It’s my job to fix me, not yours.”

She yanked a set of pajamas from the dresser.

“Would kicking me in the balls make you feel better?”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” She slammed the drawer. “No.”

“Physical release helps with pent-up frustrations.”

Julia popped her hand on her hip, then shook her clothes bundle at him like a pom-pom. “Listen, buster. I kissed you, but that doesn’t mean you get to toss innuendo around like confetti.”

“I was talking about kicking.”

“You big gaslighter.” She pointed at the bathroom. “I’ll change in there and collect myself. When I come out, I’ll be a better person.”

The walls shook as she slammed the door.

Julia could say this was a bad idea and deny she wanted him, but she wouldn’t be so easy to wind up if that were true. Big, delicate feelings were involved. She needed to be sure he cared about, liked, and respected her. He did, deeply. All that and more, actually, so he’d be patient.

As he swapped out his cargo shorts for basketball shorts, sand spilled onto the carpet. Once again, Julia was right. Anything more intimate than light fooling around on the beach would’ve chafed.

Nothing calmed a raging libido faster than a TBD list. At least, he hoped it would, so he flopped onto his bed to flick through their project list. On the other side of the door, the water ran, then her toothbrush clattered to the sink.

She knocked on the door. “Are you wearing a shirt?”

“Yep.” He laughed.

She opened the door, and he wanted to high-five the air conditioner for chilling the room so thoroughly. Her nipples stood at attention like sweet maraschino cherries under her top.

“I owe you an apology for freaking out,” she said.

Keep your attention on her eyes. “You do not. That was mild annoyance and Olympic-caliber speed-walking but not a freak-out.” He sat up in bed. “Something else bothering you?”

“Besides dipping my toes into incest?” She fell back against her pillows. “That’s mostly it.”

Carson shook his head. “Not funny. That’s not what this is. At all. If anything, this is a second-chance situation, and nothing to be embarrassed about. Don’t be such a drama queen.”

“How dare you,” she said to the ceiling.

“You said that was mostly it. What else?”

She blew out a breath. “It’s stupid.”

“I bet it isn’t.”

As she dragged herself upright, the motion pulled her shirt tight and gave him an amazing view of her gravity-defying tits.

Look away, Miller.

She sat cross-legged on her bed, then dragged a pillow into her lap. He did the same, because she was the sexiest woman alive and he needed the camouflage.

“This will sound dumb. Over the top.”

“Julia, out with it already.”

“My mom’s getting married, Alex is getting married, and you keep mentioning relationships, and…I can’t have one.”

He dropped his phone onto his bed. “Why exactly?”

“There’s this article…”

He groaned. “Anytime someone starts with ‘I had a dream’ or ‘my horoscope said’ or ‘I read an article,’ there’s a huge chance whatever follows is a bullshit.”

“Funny, because my horoscope said I’d have a dream about this article.” She twisted the pillowcase’s corners. “Anyway, the article listed seven reasons a person might not be fit for a relationship, and it lives rent-free in my brain. I exhibit at least two reasons.”

He scrubbed his hair. “Everyone has reasons they might not be fit for a relationship at any point in their life. You have to meet the right person to make it work. Plus, I’m not the tutor here, but two out of seven isn’t a passing score.”

“These two are important. For one, everything in my life is up in the air. I could get a job tomorrow in South Dakota, so what’s the point of dating someone in Ithaca or here?”

“Because it’s fun.” He raised an eyebrow. “Are there resorts in South Dakota?”

“Yes. They involve the words lodge and canyon and gulch . My point is I’m on the cusp of leaving for parts unknown, so I shouldn’t start a relationship with anyone.”

“I agree,” he said selfishly. “That doesn’t mean you can’t have fun, though. Stick with flirtation and sex until you figure out where you want to be. Relationships can be a lot of work.”

“Not if you’re in the right one. My roommates back in Ithaca are relationship goals. Healthy, supportive, casual intimacy, and…I want that. Alex has it with Bo. I’m done with hookups, and since I want a relationship and you’re about to be my stepbrother…”

She shrugged.

“Fill in the blanks for me, please.”

“Most romantic relationships end. If we fooled around, there are extenuating circumstances that’d make it exponentially worse when things blow up. So we can’t.”

Oh. Oh, oh, oh . He scrubbed his hair. That was what made Julia tick.

Pessimism.

On one hand, he was very excited Julia had imagined them fooling around.

The mature side of his brain, however, caught that she wanted impossible guarantees.

That must’ve been what her endless list-making was about—finding all the potential problems, pitfalls, and pain points and trying to plan them out of existence.

He cared about her too much not to push back.

“We have different philosophies. Everything I do—relationships, living situations, friendships, business opportunities, sex—I jump into it with the expectation it’ll go right .”

She laughed. “Reckless optimism must set you up for disappointment.”

“You’re not disappointed when things go wrong?”

“Yes, of course I am. I’m pleasantly surprised when the things go right, but when things live down to my expectations, at least I’m gratified that I predicted they would.”

“But why not have a little hope? It’s not like you get a cookie for correctly guessing when things go wrong.”

“It’d be nice if I did. I’d have dozens.”

He wanted to hug the wariness from her. “What’s the second thing? From the heavily researched listicle on Buzzfeed .”

“It wasn’t Buzzfeed .” She threw the pillow at him.

Carson caught it easily. “I need to know the second thing that’s making you take an incredible person like yourself off the market.”

“You don’t know me well enough to call me incredible.”

He nailed her with his gaze. “Yes I do.”

“Agree to disagree.” A sigh juddered her chest, and she broke away from his gaze. “The article said you have to understand your value. I…don’t. Not in relationships.”

He laughed, and she threw her second pillow at him.

“Julia, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard today, which is saying something since I also met a person named Hornigold.”

“It’s not ridiculous. It’s how I feel. I don’t know what I bring to the relationship table besides anxiety and pessimism.”

Her warped view of herself was partially his fault, so he’d do his best to fix it.

“Then let me help you. You’ve got a mind like a diamond. You intuit what people need before they do. You’re thorough and efficient and—”

“Blech.” She holds up a hand. “Please stop. This sounds like a performance evaluation and I’m about to get a three-percent raise.”

“Stop interrupting.” He threw a pillow back at her. “You’re funny, you care deeply about your family, and you’ve always seen through my bullshit. I have no idea how a sixteen-year-old kept me on task, but you did, and I liked it.”

She sighed. “Thanks for saying nice things about me, but—”

“No but s. And I’m not being nice . I’m being factual.” He sucked in a breath. Maybe it was time to tell her the truth he’d kept to himself for ten years. “You fascinate me. Always have. Which is why I asked you to prom.”

She held up a hand. “Whoa, buddy. Now you’re reinventing history.

If I recall, you said something like, ‘Wanna go to this dance with me and my friends, get drunk, and maybe get laid?’ I mean, obviously The Norton Anthology of Poetry needed to include that swoony addition, but I didn’t take it seriously.

I saw Carrie . I would’ve ended up soaked in pig’s blood, a joke for the cool kids. ”

She thought he’d do that?

Carson tried to look at it through her lens.

His crew had been full of laughter, assurances they loved each other, had each other’s backs.

Turned out not to be true, but he didn’t know that at the time.

Their friendships went back to wolf dens and laser-tag parties.

Hell, they’d known each other so long their parents had become friends.

They’d all seemed like nice people to him.

To someone on the fringes, though… They could be casually cruel. Exclusionary.

“The invitation was real, Julia. Fucked-up delivery, but it was real.”

She gaped at him. “What? No. I don’t… It was? But you were such a dick to me.”

“And you handled it the way a smart person should.” He slipped between his blankets. “So if you’re wondering what you bring to the table, know this—being with you would be like hitting the fucking lottery.”

Julia sat there, lotus-style. Her busy eyes scanned him, but her gaze told him nothing. He wasn’t sure he liked the appraisal. Somehow it felt like she was mentally stripping him down to the bone, finding everything he’d kept locked inside.

He snapped off the light. “Good night.”

“Um. I…okay, then. Good night.”

Her bed linens rustled as she settled, flipped, and settled again. He’d put her on edge with the truth. Good. Maybe she’d start to see herself the way he always had.