As if he can hear my thoughts, a smile perches on his lips. “I’ve hiked worse trails in Cali. I didn’t even break a sweat. Should give it a try sometime.”
Shrugging him off, I face Erin as we toss everything in one cart today. Today’s shoot should be easier and less obstructed than yesterday.
As I reach for the cart handle, Gavin does also. Our fingers touch for two breaths, and that old familiar current buzzes up my arms and slithers directly to my chest. Warm and comforting and libidinous. I yank mine away and try not to think about why my body is reacting to his. After everything that happened and how much time has passed, no part of me should be thrilled or eager or accepting. If anything, his touch should garner loss and heartbreak and depression.
He laughs at me, gestures with his other hand in front of him. “Lead the way, boss.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Alyson?” I ask. Definitely don’t need his agent pissed because we didn’t wait for her arrival.
“When we get to wherever, I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it,” Gavin says breezily.
But therein lies the problem… I am worried about it.
Chapter Ten
Gavin
Being near Cora intoxicates me. After so many years apart, and seeing her for hours each day since I arrived, it has been a challenge to feign my feelings. If I thought leaving her the first time was difficult, this time will be a hundred times worse. If not more.
But what if it didn’t have to be that way? What if we didn’t have to go our separate ways after the photo shoot?
Both our careers allow flexibility. And I am sure she travels for work as much as I do. So why couldn’t things be different now? Our circumstances are not what they were thirteen years ago. We are no longer children, forced to go where our family takes us. We are adults, and we decide how to run our lives.
So why can we not make this work? Why can we not give us another shot?
I want to tell her this. Tell her I would like—after this shoot is over—to try and get back to where we were. Although we are no longer the same people we once were, my feelings for her have never waned. If anything, they have only amplified over time, not revealing themselves until I prepared to board that plane in Los Angeles.
We stand near a jetty of rocks. Cora and Erin mess with cameras and equipment as they prep for the shoot. Knowing they don’t need assistance from me, I wander toward the water. Silent and deep in thought.
“You okay?” Cora asks before I step out of earshot.
I peek over my shoulder at her, subtly smile, and nod. “Yeah, I’m good.”
After about fifteen feet, I stop and stare out at the Gulf. The water crashes against the rocks and sand in choppy, small waves. Salt absorbs the humidity and dampens my skin. Seaweed and the earthy scent of sand permeate my nose. The rising sun warms my exposed arms and legs. And I am thankful this time of year isn’t scorching, but the heat will be here soon enough. That is one thing I don’t miss—the heat. Sure, California gets hot, but it’s not equivalent to Florida and neither is the humidity.
I get lost in my thoughts, working to clear my head, when flip-flops smack in the sand behind me. But I don’t turn toward the sound. Instead, I close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to be here with her without our jobs in the mix. To slip my fingers between hers and walk hand in hand down the beach. To watch the sunset together and talk about everything we have missed about each other. And kiss her lips for the first time in forever. To simply just exist with her at my side.
Absolute perfection.
Warm, delicate fingers brush down my bicep, stopping at my elbow. I stop breathing.
“Gavin,” she whispers. “We’re ready when you are. Take your time.”
I glance over my shoulder at her and give a small smile. “I’ll be just a second,” I rasp, my voice rattled with emotion. I swallow, aiming to moisten my suddenly dry throat. As much moisture as there is in the air, you would think there is no possible way to be parched.
She nods and I watch as she walks back over to where Erin stands. They talk quietly and I am unable to hear them over the waves hitting the rocks. When I start walking their way, I catch how Cora peeks up at me then looks away. A step later, Erin mimics her. Interesting.
I conclude with this minor detail they’re talking about me. And as soon as I reach them, they both fall silent. Yep, they were most definitely gossiping about me. The idea does strange things to me. Twists my stomach in heart-shaped knots. Alters my breathing pattern into an odd staccato. Adds a new layer of sweat beneath my salty, humid skin. Makes my fingers fidget enough that I want to shove them in my pockets. Pockets I don’t have today.
Cora’s eyes refuse to meet mine. If honest with myself, I would venture to guess she is avoiding eye contact on purpose. But her avoidance isn’t cold. It’s as if she donned a new suit of armor, the type designed for the sole purpose of protecting one’s heart. Her heart. The same heart I shattered into a million shards. And another blade stabs me for what I did to her. What I could have fixed if I had the balls to do it.
My heart beats so violently, as if it’s trying to rip its way out of my chest. But the pericardium encasing my heart holds it back, restrains me, as hers does the same. I have to keep reminding myself, I am the reason for her walls. I am the reason she keeps telling me no. But I also hope to be the reason those walls come down.
We are ten minutes into the shoot when Alyson approaches. For someone who said she was on death’s door yesterday, she looks a few shades tanner. Maybe it’s the white summer apparel she wears, making her skin pop against the stark color. Or maybe she wanted to enjoy a little downtime while here, knowing she could trust me to do the right thing.
No matter. Neither scenario bothers me. Just glad she is okay. Alyson may be the bridezilla version of a talent agent, but I have known her years and still care about her as a person.
We finish up shooting near the rocks, then spend an hour snapping photos by seagrasses. The shoot wraps after we take numerous photos on a path resembling a pier in the sand. Cora takes photos from several different angles and I honestly cannot wait to see the end results.