Four Day Fling

I nodded. I’d been able to ignore the fact this was our last night thanks to the hectic nature of getting to the wedding, and then the actual wedding itself, but now, dancing with him…I couldn’t.

And there was this little hollow pit in my stomach that wouldn’t let me forget it now, either.

Adam slipped his fingers between mine and led me down the beach. We walked until we could barely hear the music from the speakers at the bar and we were in almost total darkness. It was amazingly peaceful, and I was thankful for it. The low hum of the wedding in the background served as little more than white noise when it was combined with the gentle crashing of waves against the sand.

We dropped down to the sand, and I leaned back on my arms. Adam loosened his tie until he was able to pull it over his head and toss it to the side. Neither of us said a word for a minute, and when he leaned back on his arms, too, his fingers brushed mine.

“So you pranked each other all the time?” he asked.

I nodded, looking out at the ocean that was now starting to be illuminated by the almost-full moon. “As long as I can remember. They weren’t cruel pranks—”

“I dunno. The snakeskin thing is pretty cruel.”

“She did the rabbit foot first. When you up the stakes, don’t be annoyed when someone else does the same.” I shrug a shoulder. “It wasn’t my fault I broke her curling iron.”

“I feel like all the fights you had as teens were based on curling irons.”

“Pretty much. Didn’t your sisters fight over stuff like that?”

He tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know. I ignored them for most of the time. They usually argued over clothes or boys or who used all the hot water in the shower. It took them two years to realize it was me, because while they were fighting over who got to use the main bathroom first, I was using it.”

I laughed. “Been there, done that. Bathroom time is no joke. Once, I got in there before Rosie did when she had a date, so she turned the hot water off halfway through my shower. I had to get out with shampoo still in my hair because she refused to turn it on.”

“Oh no. I think I know where this is going.”

“She didn’t count on the fact that, if she’d just let me finish in the shower, she’d have had hot water, too.”

Adam shook his head. “How did you two survive your teen years? Seriously?”

“She moved out at eighteen to go to college.” I snorted. “And I got the bathroom all to myself.”

“How are you so close now?”

“We don’t live anywhere near each other. It works. We talk all the time, and I always take Rory for weekends to go to Disney and Universal, but we don’t actually see each other all the time.” I turned my head to look at him. “Are you close to your sisters?”

“Yeah. I mean, it’s kind of the same as you. They’re scattered all over the country, so we make time to see each other if I’m in town for a game. That’s about it, except for Christmas when the entire family drops back in at my parents’ house and I end up with houseguests.”

“Ouch. I’d hate it if my sister had to stay with me. Partly because I don’t have a spare room, and partly because, well, I’d hate to share my apartment with her.”

He laughed. “I don’t mind it. I get to hang out with the kids and have fun. I don’t get to do that often.”

“Because you travel so much?”

He nodded. “It’s hard. Why do you think I’m single?”

“I dunno. I assumed you had a really bad habit. Like biting your toenails or something.”

His lips twisted to the side.

“But the traveling thing does make more sense,” I agreed.

It was also the perfect explanation for ending this, both in real life and in our fake relationship.

“Not everyone can deal with it. It’s hard. If I’m in a city where one of my sisters lives, I might not go home for two or three weeks.” He dropped back to his elbows and sighed. “My team is my family. Most women aren’t ready to deal with what is, for a good seven months of the year, a long-distance relationship. The stress and the trust… Not everyone wants to find a way to cope with it.”

The way he said it almost sounded like a warning. Like he wanted me to know just how hard it was, and while the idea that he was warning me made my heart skip, it also made my stomach sink.

I wasn’t that person. I knew that. I was impatient, and I could be needy. I couldn’t even have a long-distance relationship with my bed, never mind a human being I cared for.