Mouth to Mouth (Beach Kingdom 1)

“Can’t be with me,” he rasped, his eyes taking on a far-off quality. “Dammit, sunbeam. My gut is telling me to shake you, kiss you, find out why you’re scared of me all of a sudden. Is it…it’s because of what I told you, right? My arrest—”

“No. That’s not it.”

The denial burst out of Olive, but he talked right over her, seemingly beyond listening.

“I promised myself if you cut me off, I would man up and respect it. Leave you alone,” he said, the words sounding raw as cut glass. “My bones tell me to do the opposite, though, baby. I’m standing here and you’re in pain for some reason and I don’t know what the fuck to do.”

This time, it was Olive’s turn to not listen. Her heart plummeted at the misery in his voice, but her mind snagged on only one part of his ravaged explanation. I promised myself if you cut me off, I would man up and respect it. Leave you alone.

“Did you ever think this was going to work out?” Hot tears crowded against the backs of her eyelids. “Or were you just waiting for a signal to walk away again?”

Rory’s gaze sharpened. “Is that what this is about?” He made a rough sound. “If I could go back in time, I would run after you. It kills me that I didn’t.”

Olive could feel herself weakening. She had to press her hip into the table until it hurt to keep her feet from moving. Carrying her in his direction, where she knew he’d pick her up, hold her, take away the ache in her chest. “That’s not what this is about.” She barely managed to whisper the lie. “I have to get ready for school. I have to do what’s best for me. Please, just…”

Her throat closed up, refusing to let her say go.

Rory filled in the blanks with a desolate expression. “I’ll go,” he said, rubbing the heel of his hand against the middle of his ribcage. “If you think me leaving is what’s best for you, I have no choice.” Before she could prepare, he came around the table and moved in close, so close she could feel the kiss of his breath on her lips, the heat of his body caressing her skin. “I’ll go, but you listen to me, Olive Cunningham. Go live your life. I hope you believe me when I say I hope you have the best fucking life, baby. I want everything for you.” In her periphery, she could see his fists clench at his sides, as if he wanted to reach for her but wouldn’t. “While you’re out living that life, remember I’ll be out there somewhere. Living for you. And if you want me back for one day—one minute—I’m yours. And I’ll do it over and over again, no matter how many times you decide this is wrong afterward. I’ll wait around to worship you, sunbeam. Any time you want me. Do you understand?” He leaned in and she whimpered, preparing for a kiss, reeling from the vow he’d just made. “I’ll love you with this black soul until God tears it out of me.”

Even as her heart soared, a voice doubted in the back of her mind. No. No, she couldn’t know for sure if he loved her. He might just think he did.

Rory started to back away slowly.

I love you, too. Oh God, I love you so much.

Her mind screamed the words at his back as he pivoted and walked out the door.

The silence that descended was so loud, she could hear the dull pitch of the ocean, layered beneath her own wheezing breaths. Common sense warred with the crazy, authentic, untamed love inside of Olive, keeping her rooted to the spot.

He’s gone. He’s gone, so I can’t get hurt.

He’s gone, so I’ll hurt forever.

It was a losing battle. And in that moment, shaken, lonely, heartbroken and still in shock from what her family had done, she was too weak to fight.

*

It was late Friday afternoon when Olive realized she’d been sitting in the student library for…three hours. Really? She’d come in to check out a book and that book still sat in front of her on the polished mahogany table. Unopened. She’d been doing this a lot since Tuesday morning. Zoning out. Forgetting why she’d walked into rooms…or why she’d left the apartment. It was probably better that way, her brain blurring reality and making her surroundings feel like lethargic dreams in which she wasn’t actually participating.

Olive opened the book sitting in front of her and closed it again, burying her fingers in her hair, inhaling deeply and trying to block out the stunted sound of her heartbeat. It seemed to follow her every place she went, blaming her for its cracks.

How was it possible Rory had walked out of her apartment three days ago? It could have happened an hour ago, the horrible finality of the moment was so fresh and sharp. And yet, it also felt like it happened nine months ago. She no longer had any frame of reference for time, except school. Get up, get dressed, get on the bus, pretend to listen in class, go home and stare blankly at convoluted notes.