I want to pack my freckled-faced friend in my suitcase and steal her away from … from what?
Reality?
Tragedy?
Some days I’m certain the two are one and the same.
She wraps her arms around my neck as I slide mine around her waist and bury my face in her neck.
“Ten years of embracing celibacy. Ten years of settling into a new normal. Ten years and you had to derail me at the finish line.”
She laughs, but I feel her body shake with uncontrolled sobs. “You jerk … you just had to steal that kiss.”
I want to steal so much more than a kiss. As fate would have it, with the exception of my mother and daughter, the women I’ve chosen to love have either died or have already given their hearts to someone else.
“We should head back. The fireworks will start soon.”
“Yes.” She wipes her face and gives me a sad smile.
“Pen pals.” I take her hand. “It’s not sexy, but it’s intellectually stimulating.”
“Not sexy, huh? Clearly you’ve never been pen pals with me. I demand sexy. I demand the occasional poem. Unless you can’t keep up.”
“Oh … I can keep up.”
She releases my hand. “I doubt it!” Her feet dig into the sand, and she swerves up the beach a few feet to the water-packed sand, running as fast as she can.
I grin, just watching her hair blow. Her legs propel her away from me, and when she finally makes a quick glance over her shoulder—that damn flirty over-the-shoulder smirk—I take off after her. She pumps her arms as I keep a steady distance between us. As we near the houses, I close that distance, hook her waist, and throw her into the water.
“Naaate!”
I turn and walk up the beach like it never happened.
“Daaad!” Morgan hops out of her chair on my deck where everyone has gathered to watch the fireworks.
“What?” I respond as I near the boardwalk.
“Watch out!” Gabe yells.
“Oopf!”
Too late.
Soaked Gracelyn jumps on my back, tackling me to the sand. “Not. Cool!” She maneuvers herself on top of me and starts shoveling sand onto me with her hands, like a dog burying a bone. She’s wet and sandy. I’m wet and sandy.
“Look!” Morgan yells as the fireworks start in the distance, about ten houses down from us.
Gracelyn hops off me and tries to brush herself off.
“Here.” Mr. Hans tosses her one of the kids’ towels from the railing.
She holds it pinched from her fingers, away from her body, while tiptoeing to the water spigot on the side of the house.
“You’d better just head in for a shower.” Her mom laughs.
My parents could not have bigger grins on their faces as I follow Gracelyn. I smirk because I can’t not feel their tiny moment of happiness. They never thought I’d recover after losing Daisy and Jenna. This feels like a recovery, but it’s temporary.
“Jerk,” Gracelyn mumbles as she rinses the sand off.
I take the hose from her and hold it over her head. She shivers while running her fingers through her hair, her nipples hard against her thin top. She steps out of the stream and catches me staring at her. I wait for her to make another jerk or pervert remark, but she doesn’t, and she doesn’t pull her shirt away from her chest. My gaze works its way back down her body as I turn the hose onto my sand-covered body. A boom of fireworks illuminates her for a few seconds. My gaze stops on her fingers rubbing the clasp of her bracelet. After a few more seconds, she turns and takes her balcony stairs to her bedroom.
I finish rinsing off and wind up the hose. After I shrug off my shirt and wring it out, I take several steps toward the back deck and our families celebrating the ending of the day under the kaleidoscope in the sky. Stopping before anyone can see me, I turn and follow my instinct … I follow her. Even if I can’t have her, it doesn’t stop me from being the guy who chases her.
She jumps and turns toward me with her wet, discarded shirt wadded and hugged to her chest as her eyes widen in surprise.
I shut the door, letting the curtains fall shut behind me. “If you take that off…” I nod to the bracelet “…a day from now, a month from now, ten years from now … if it’s not until your next life … I want to be the first to know.”
Her lips part, but her eyes remain unblinking and red with emotion.
“Okay?” I take two steps, putting us toe to toe.
A shaky breath rattles her body.
“Say it.”
She rubs her quivering lips together and blinks, sending a new stream of tears down her cheeks while keeping her gaze locked to my chest.
“Say it.”
She shakes her head slowly. “Y-you can’t ask that … y-you c-can’t just call … dibs on me in the next life.”