“I like it here,” Riley says, climbing down from the boat after having explored belowdecks.
We can come back whenever you want, I want to tell her. Whatever she wants I’ll give it her. I’m constantly fighting between doing anything to keep her and knowing I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to her. I can’t be sure how long I’ll be around and I don’t want to make promises I can’t keep.
She leaves me on the dock to explore the beach, and I follow slowly, watching her excitement. Drinking it in. Sometimes it feels like life started the night we met. She saved me from more than getting my ass kicked.
When I catch up to her, she’s sitting on the beach with her arms wrapped around her knees and staring out at the ocean.
“I spent most of my summers in Martha’s Vineyard,” I tell her, taking a seat on the sand next to her. I don’t know why I just told her that except that for the second time in my life I want a woman to know me, really know me and not the bullshit that she can read online.
“Is it like this place?”
“Yes, except it’s an island.”
She faces me. “You’re lucky.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
In the distance, a bank of fog is rolling in. The wind has shifted direction.
“Beau told me you were sick when you were a teen.”
I nod. It’s not much of a secret if the information is everywhere. Plenty of interviews I’ve given. Plenty of articles written about me. I was more surprised to hear she didn’t already know when Beau mentioned it. He said Riley took the news hard and it’s bothered me since. The last thing I want for her is to worry over me. She’s been through enough. If I was a better man, I’d send her away, spare her the misery. But I’m not that man.
“Is that what you meant when you said you spent a lot of time alone?” She places her chin on her knees and watches me. I nod. “You’re kind of amazing.” Her big blue eyes fill with wonder I don’t want or deserve. I’d rather see it turn into lust when I kiss her senseless.
“Nothing amazing about it. I was lucky my cancer wasn’t aggressive.”
Riley shakes her head, looks out at the ocean. Now that the wind has calmed, it looks unnaturally smooth. “My dad had it. It was the hardest thing he ever did and he pulled people out of burning buildings…I think you’re amazing. Everything you’ve accomplished in spite of it…”
I could love this girl. We haven’t discussed our arrangement when we get back home, but I’ll find something for her to do. I don’t care what it is but I can’t lose her.
“How did you all become friends?”
“Me and Eli?”
“And Lainey.”
Lainey…even dead she stands between us. I decide to go with the truth. It’s time we buried it all.
“I met Laine at Dana Farber…in the hospital. She and Eli grew up together. Their parents were best friends.”
“How did she die if you don’t mind me asking?”
My chest feels encased in cement. It’s hard to breathe, it’s hard to speak. All the feelings are back. The ones I spent years silencing.
“The cancer came back…It was aggressive.”
Riley gets to her feet and brushes the sand off her ass. It falls on the bare tan skin of her thighs. I want to kiss them. I want to pull her down on top of me and bury myself inside of her so deep the lines between us blur and disappear.
“I’ll race you to the end of the beach,” she says with a hint of trouble in her smile.
“No I––”
She takes off, kicking sand in my face and I chuckle.
“Jordan! Come on!” she laughs.
A memory surfaces and it hits me like a ton of bricks. A vague image…a vivid recollection of a dream. A girl with dark hair on the beach. She was laughing and calling my name. And she was happy. So damn happy…I want to be happy too.
“Jordan!”
I get up and run after her.
Riley
“One more match,” Eli tells Jordan like he’s emperor of the free world. “Unless you’re a pussy.” His reddish-blondish eyebrow goes up in challenge.
They’ve been going at it like this for two hours. Two frigging hours. Over speed chess, no less. Smack talking like I’ve never even heard at Sal’s Bar when the Jets play the Pats.
“I’m tired. I’m gonna hit the sack,” Jordan tells him.
Eli made dinner. He’s a very good cook. He grilled steaks and vegetables he gets delivered from the local farmers, made a potato salad all on his own, refusing my help. He also has a fridge the size of a normal person’s walk-in closet so I suspect he doesn’t get out much.
Then we moved into the family room––this room. It’s covered in bookcases, filled with books. One wall taken up by a massive wood burning fireplace. The house is too traditional colonial for my taste, but nice regardless.