“We should probably decide what we’re eating before the server returns,” I tell her.
With a nod, she removes her hand from mine and picks up her menu. The heat she ignited minutes ago… it evaporates the second her skin leaves mine.
And now, I will do whatever necessary to have it again.
Chapter Eleven
Cora
After the server takes our dinner order, Gavin and I fall into comfortable conversation. Although we had once known everything about each other, there is so much we don’t know now. We spend the time, before our dinner arrives, playing twenty questions.
I ask him about California. What he likes and dislikes. His favorite places there. Where else he has traveled for work. What he does when he isn’t working.
As challenging as it is, I do my best to steer clear of the topic of him leaving. The first time as well as the next time. It’s inevitable he will leave again. And as much as I hate the idea of him leaving, I remind myself of this regularly. His home is thousands of miles from here. Everything he has is there—family, career, friends—waiting for him to return.
Another topic I dare not mention… relationship status. His or my own.
The way he has acted around me, I am unsure how to digest it all. Is it just old feelings coming to the surface because he is here again? Does he act like this with other women photographers? Or women of interest in general? Is he a player? Is he playing me?
But the biggest of them all… does he have someone waiting in California for his return?
After all these years, there is no way Gavin is single. It isn’t possible. Yes, he is busy with his career. But a busy career doesn’t equal single status. Not with his good looks.
My endless mental list of questions is disrupted when the server sets a plate of coconut shrimp and coconut almond rice i
n front of me. I lean over the plate and inhale the delicious aroma, moaning my delight.
Gavin laughs, “Now that’s a sound I haven’t heard in a long time. Not quite the same as your breakfast today.” He gazes at me with a tenderness I haven’t seen in a long time. A tenderness I am all too familiar with. Hummingbirds take flight in my chest, flapping their wings beneath my sternum and causing palpitations.
I play it off and swat him with my napkin. “Shut up,” I say with a giggle.
We eat and laugh and share great conversation over dinner. Being here with Gavin feels normal. Natural. When we finish eating, he asks if I will meet him at an ice cream shop across from his hotel. Without hesitation, I tell him yes.
Tonight has been fun. It has been a long time since I have been this relaxed and more myself. As if a part of me has returned with Gavin here. I miss that part of myself. The carefree, jubilant, and eccentric girl. He has been the only person who loved every side of me. And the only person I have exposed so much of myself to.
When he moved away, a slice of me went with him. The piece of me reserved only for him. The piece that feels as if it has returned home.
We stroll down Mandalay Avenue, hands clasped while he eats a cone topped with cookie dough ice cream and mine topped with mint avalanche. Our hands swing between us, our lips silent as we consume our confections.
Simple moments like this are ones I will never forget. Memories stashed away for the days when he is gone. Memories of all the wonderful times we have shared.
We don’t need to say anything. We don’t have to do anything. As long as it is just us, everything in life is perfect. Our time apart resides in some nether region of the universe.
At a crosswalk, we wait for the traffic to stop and move to the beachside of the street. He leads us down one of the small side streets and toward a public access point for the beach. As he pops the last of his cone in his mouth, he bends and begins removing his shoes.
“Will you walk with me?” he asks as he stands upright. His love for the beach hasn’t vanished over the years. He was lucky his mom’s promotion led them to another coastal state. If Gavin didn’t have the beach, I don’t think he would be whole. Not sure if it’s the sand or the water or the salty air, but Gavin was born to be near a beach.
Part of me wants to give him a hard time and say isn’t that what we’ve been doing? But I stop myself. It’s one thing to weave in and out of people on a busy, pedestrian-loaded street. It is completely different to step onto the fine-grained beach, barefoot, and walk in the dark along the surf holding someone’s hand. Though the beach may not be pitch black, it’s dark enough to make the level of intimacy go from zero to one hundred in seconds.
He studies my face, waiting for me to answer. I take the last bite of my cone, buying myself a few more seconds. I reach forward and take his hand again, squeeze it gently and nod. Before I bend down to remove my shoes, I catch a glimpse of the smile I remember. The smile that flashes in my memories. The smile that lured me in when I was fourteen.
I park in my driveway and grab my purse and shoes from the passenger seat before getting out. My thoughts swim and swirl and blend together. Old memories of Gavin and me. Happy memories. Memories I will never forget.
Once inside, I add food to Luna’s bowl and pet her a few times before heading for my bedroom. I toss my shoes in the closet and strip off my dress, heading for the shower. The walk on the beach with Gavin was wonderful, but I need to wash the sticky beach air and sand off my skin.
With a towel wrapped around my torso, I dig through my dresser and grab a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. Clad in my nightwear, I plop down on my bed and flick on the television, scanning Netflix for something to watch. I pick a random movie, which ends up becoming background noise to my racing mind.
A pair of warm hands cover my eyes, too large to belong to any girl I know. His hot breath on my ear sends a chill down my spine. My breath hitches and my heart beats as if it will never have the chance after today.