The boys, however, didn’t possess the same kind of polite restraint.
“So, Feeney?” Murph grinned widely from where he was sunning his freckles on the flat granite seawall. “You and Scott, huh?”
“Don’t even start with me, Murph.”
“What?” He held up his hands. “Look at the way he flexes those pipes and rocks that sun-god tan. I’m actually a little jealous. Of you, I mean.”
Jill laughed tiredly. “You’re so full of shit I could use you as fertilizer.”
Rory grinned as well, squeezing the excess salt water from her long hair.
“Lindsay, here.” Obviously eager to change the subject, Jill dug into her little beach bag to retrieve a tube of sunscreen, tossing it to her. “Be careful—you should put some of this on.”
“Yeah,” Lindsay agreed. “I think I’m still a little pink from yesterday.”
“What did you guys do?”
“Hannah, Rory, and I were at the town beach.” She sat up on her towel to apply the sunscreen. “There was a big group of seniors there, too—Brad Dempsey and Jake Hartwell and all those guys. And you know Hannah. She parked us right next to them.” She tossed Rory a knowing grin. “But Jake seemed ver-ray interested in someone else.”
Matt walked up from the water and paused on a quick frown, swiping a hand over his wet hair. “In who?”
“In Rory—duh!”
“Oh, really?” Jill drew out the words with great interest, her smile curving. Rory knew she was just glad to deflect the attention off herself. “Do tell!”
She ignored the look Matt was giving her and smoothed her hair back into a ponytail elastic. “There’s nothing to tell.”
“I don’t know…it kind of sounded to me like he might be asking her out,” Lindsay offered in a playful sing-song.
“Jake Hartwell, huh? Wow. Not too shabby.” Jill paused with a sly, thoughtful look. “But isn’t that, like, traveling from zero to sixty in under five seconds?”
Rory only gave her a wry smile as she rolled her towel to stuff it in her canvas beach bag. She was well aware of his reputation, and had heard all the various gossip regarding the sexual escapades of that entire group of older guys. She was rather content with the current levels of her own inexperience, however, so that was of no concern to her. She didn’t need a parent, priest, or public service announcement to convince her she wasn’t ready yet.
Jake’s interest in her had been kind of flattering, and nothing more.
“I have to get home. I’ll just talk to you guys later.”
“Oh—you bet you will! I want deets!”
“Goodbye!” Rory smiled, slinging her bag over her tanned shoulder.
She trudged up through a path in the dunes, stopping by the weathered wood plank steps to the street to grab her discarded flip-flops from the pile. She was balanced precariously, bending her leg to slip one on, when Matt suddenly appeared, nearly toppling her off-kilter.
“Where are you off to?” he asked, t-shirt already on over his head.
“My requisite monthly dinner with Dad,” she admitted, grasping onto his arm for support as she stuck her other sandal on her foot. “Where are you going?”
“I gotta head back now, too,” he said, trudging up the plank steps behind her. “So, where is he taking you tonight?”
“Who knows? I have to be showered, ready, and appropriately dressed by five sharp.” As they reached the street, she narrowed her gaze in the direction of the church clock tower in the town square. “What time is it anyway?”
“Squint much?” Matt appraised her. “You seriously can’t see that?”
Rory scowled a little at his sudden attitude. “Can you please just tell me?”
“It’s three-fifteen.”
They continued up the sun-dappled sidewalk, away from the harbor, past all the little shops downtown, when he suddenly burst out, “You know, I can’t believe you’re actually thinking of going out with that guy.”
Rory hesitated on a small confused frown. “Huh?”
“Jake Hartwell. If you ever heard the way he talks when it’s just a bunch of guys shooting hoops over at Seaside Park? Trust me, I know you. You wouldn’t want anything to do with him.”
She shook it off, her long ponytail swinging in the breeze. “I never recall saying that I was going out with him. We just talked.”
Matt turned his head, giving her an almost stern look.
“Did he ask you out or not?”
She only lifted a shoulder to let it drop in response.
“He did—didn’t he?” The question was more a statement of fact.
“Whatever. I guess.”
Matt shook his head slightly on a soft snort. “Did he kiss you?”
She laughed, looking at him as if he had three heads. “No.”
“Did he try? More importantly, did you want him to try?”
“Will you stop?” He was always bringing up these weird topics of conversation lately, joking with her in strange ways. She didn’t get what was with him, and didn’t have the patience for his games today. “No, okay? Why are you asking me this?”
“Because,” he replied, muttering almost as if to himself, “if anyone’s kissing you, it’s gonna be me.”
Rory rolled her eyes slightly. There he goes again. “Oh, funny how you decide this only after you think someone else might want to.”
He came to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.
“If that’s what you really think, Rory…”
When he left it there and didn’t finish, she glanced back with a frown.
“What?”
Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he abruptly turned to head off in a different direction.
“Then maybe you really are blind.”
***
Rory drove slowly down the quiet street, peering through her windshield to try to read numbers on the mailboxes, having forgotten that these beach roads were not well lit at night.
Ever since she’d arrived back in town, she felt like she had to fix everything—not only for herself, but for both of them. Yet, as far as she could see, all she actually did was make things much worse, especially for Matt. That first night she saw him at the bar, he looked so happy. But happy was the last word she would use to describe him now.
Maybe, if she really loved him at all, if she really meant what she said, that was the part she needed to fix. She finally pulled her rental car into the wide circular drive to glance up at the impressive house in front of her. It was not the typical beach cottage. In fact, it wasn’t a cottage at all—its lush green lawn and turret on its peaked roof was more the style of the old sea captains’ homes downtown.
Climbing out of the car, she walked up to the front entrance, taking a deep breath before she knocked. Here she was. Maybe she could start a business service spreading sunshine door-to-door.
The door opened after a moment and Rory immediately recognized Amanda’s brother, Peter.
“Hi.” She tried to smile. “Is Amanda home?”
He looked fairly dour and humorless again. “I don’t think she wants to talk to anyone.”
Nodding slowly, Rory was about to respond when another voice interrupted.
“It’s okay, Peter.”
She glanced up to see Amanda descending the staircase. Swallowing nervously, she steadied herself, remembering why she was here.
“Hello, Rory.”
Peter threw her one last wary glance (really, did she look all that intimidating?) before he turned to walk away, leaving them alone.
“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here,” she began with a short, uneasy laugh, briefly wondering if humor was the way to go here and then quickly deciding against it—afraid if she tried, she might actually cry instead. “And I can completely understand if you really don’t have an interest in talking to me right now. But there is something I need to tell you, so all I ask is that you hear me out.”
Amanda folded her arms across her chest, her head
tilted a little to the side as she listened carefully, kind of like a little terrier might do. Not that Rory would compare her to a dog, of course. No, of course not—because that would be wrong.
“Go ahead,” Amanda replied quietly.
“Well, first off, about the party?” Rory glanced away in mild embarrassment, never imagining she would need to explain it to Amanda, of all people. Trying to explain it to herself had been difficult enough. “Matt had no idea that I was going to be there. None. In fact, I really had no idea I was going to end up there. I certainly didn’t plan on it, and it was really nothing more than us being in the same place at the same time. Nothing—” she drew out the words with emphasis “—I mean nothing happened.”
Amanda seemed unmoved.
“Even if the possibility presented itself, nothing would have happened.” Rory’s voice softened with some resignation, realizing the truth in her own words. “Because Matt would never, ever cheat on someone that he loves. And he obviously loves you. So, while I know the circumstances must seem suspect, you need to know that he would never do anything to hurt you. That’s not who he is.”
“I don’t need you to tell me who he is,” she said, the very picture of cool grace and dignity.
Rory blew out a quiet sigh, feeling like a complete mess. “I know. And I know it may seem rather odd and unnecessary that Matt has this ex-girlfriend in his life that he’s still close to, but above all we were friends first,” she said. “So, I think that only proves he’s a good person and a loyal friend—that he’s not like all the other guys out there.” Her voice almost deserted her, here in enemy territory. “That he’s not like anyone else. He’s someone you’re lucky to have. Someone you know you can count on, who will always be there for you. And I just hope you’re not going to let one small incident keep you from finding the happiness you could have with him.”
Amanda seemed more contemplative. “The night I first met Matt?” she began, her voice faint with recollection. “At the bar opening last summer? I looked across the room to see him and said to myself, that’s the kind of guy I want.” She paused as if visualizing the memory, her dark lashes resting against her cheeks. “When he came over to talk to our group, welcoming us, I didn’t even realize then that it was his bar. He was so friendly and charming, even better than I imagined from afar. I went to look for him later, thinking that maybe I could get the courage to slip him my number or something equally as obvious.” A smile only hovered over her lips without landing there. “And I’m not usually like that. I never make the first move. But I didn’t care. I really wanted to get to know this guy. I finally saw him, only this time he was talking really close with someone else. And it was clear from the way he looked at her. I knew then I had no chance. I figured, of course, just my luck. All the good ones are taken.”
She lifted her hand, absently toying with one of the tiny diamond solitaires in her ear, its sparkle and luster overpowered by the Arctic glacier on her finger that looked like it could, and most likely had, taken down an oil tanker.
“I never actually met you that night of the bar opening, you know. We were never officially introduced. I only remember because it was you I saw Matt talking to. You were the one on the receiving end of that look. It was only later on, after we started dating, that he told me about you.”
Rory had to let this sink in a moment, the memories and emotions her story was evoking almost too painful to bear. It was like Amanda was pointing out to her—here’s where your life went wrong, here’s where you screwed up, and now there’s nothing you can do about it.
“The party started to wind down, and my group was getting ready to leave,” Amanda continued. “I was waiting for them near the doors, standing all by myself, and Matt came by, carrying some empty bottles, helping the bartender clean up. He struck up a conversation with me. Just being polite, I know, because I was standing there all alone, and because the whole time he couldn’t stop looking at you across the room. You were all he could see. I don’t even know if he really remembers meeting me. So, you could say that I knew what I was getting into.” Her voice dipped sadly, and fresh tears shimmered in her eyes. “My friends have been teasing me about being too possessive or jealous when it comes to Matt, how I’m rushing him to the altar, and how that’s not really like me, but maybe it comes from not feeling secure. Like he was never really mine. But, see, that’s the thing—he is my fiancé. Only I’m not going to subject myself to being second best.”
Realizing that Amanda was finally losing that careful composure, Rory bowed her head, feeling appropriately shamed.
“As much as I love Matt? I won’t marry someone who wants someone else. The wedding is off. You won, okay?”
Briefly closing her eyes against the bitter sting, Rory felt sick all over again. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Embarking on this so-called romantic mission to win back her one true love, she never once took into consideration all the innocent people she could hurt. And she’d hurt Matt most of all.
She acknowledged and admitted her feelings for him much too late, and only had herself to blame for that. She refused to make Matt suffer for it, too. It seemed clear now—if she ever really loved him at all, if she cared about his happiness—there was only one thing she could do.
“No, I didn’t,” she whispered miserably.
“What?”
“I didn’t win anything.” Rory lifted her eyes back to Amanda. “I told Matt last night that I still loved him. I made it clear I still wanted him.” Her voice trembled, but she continued on. “I gave him every chance…but he didn’t take it. He wants to marry you, Amanda. And you need to know that.”
Amanda’s lips parted, seemingly taken aback by this admission, and she blinked her eyes once in stunned silence. Then, gradually, the expression on her face shifted, her eyes darkening.
“If what you’re telling me is true?” She was now more composed, almost eerily calm, and deadly seriously. “He can never see you again. I don’t want him around you. You should still be at the wedding, but only because it would look bad if you suddenly weren’t there. But then please show some respect. Go back to your life, and for once and for all, get out of his.”
Even as her eyes filled, Rory nodded in understanding.
“You need to go now.” With that, Amanda simply moved over to the front door to hold it open.
Struggling not to double-over into sobs, her chest tight with choked breaths, Rory gathered up her broken pieces and walked out into the night.
All this time, she thought she was gathering the courage to finally tell Matt how she felt, and somehow get him back. Rory never could have known, in the end, it would actually come down to being brave enough to let him go.
NINETEEN
“How did you like the movie?”
She brushed the long hair from her eyes, the windows rolled down to the warm wind.
“I liked it. It was funny.”
“Yeah.” Jake grinned and adjusted his hand on the steering wheel. “I thought so, too.”
She snuck a glance while his eyes were on the road, studying his unfamiliar face in the glow of a passing streetlight.
Her mother nearly had a stroke when Jake’s car had first pulled up to the house, but Rory had been duly impressed with the way he quickly won her over, setting her at ease with his polished politeness. She was equally as impressed with the way he made such a gentlemanly show of opening her car door.
They were driving along Water Street now, and Rory imagined they would probably hit one of the pizza places downtown for a quick bite to eat. At least that seemed the course a typical date evening might follow—since she had nothing to base it on.
Lindsay and Jill were over at the house earlier, under the guise of helping her choose an outfit and get ready for what was to be her first official date. Really, they only wanted to grill her on what might happen, questioning Jake’s motives, anticipating his sexual advances and plotting her counter-tactics. This, while pulling out the most
revealingly short floral sundress from her closet and dousing her in perfumed body spray until she smelled like a vanilla-soaked peach.
Rory wasn’t confused by mixed messages, however. And, while she might have been impressed with his opening act, she found she wasn’t really all that overwhelmed or intimidated by Jake’s good looks or senior status. For some reason, now that she was actually out with him, he didn’t really make her as nervous as she imagined.
She was kind of ready to go home.
“What time did you need to be back?” he asked.
“Eleven,” she answered, pressing her lips together slightly. It was still, however, somewhat embarrassing to have such an early curfew.
Jake edged the wheel away from the direction of all the eateries downtown, instead turning his car towards the old beach road. “Maybe we could head down Thatcher’s Cove for a while.”
She paused with a hesitant frown. “Why? Is there, um…is there a party going on there tonight?” she asked in a smaller voice.
A fleeting grin flashed across his expression before he reached over, his fingertips grazing the smooth skin of her slender thigh at the bottom edge of her dress.
“Not that I know of. I just thought we could hang out—you and I. Get to know each other better.”
Discreetly, she edged her leg away, tugging the hem down, and swallowed as her throat went a bit dry.
A moment later the car slowed to a stop at a quiet, deserted intersection near the public beach. There was no immediate move forward. Instead, Jake turned to her.
“Hey…” he urged softly, smiling as he leaned over, his hand cupping the back of her head. “Come here.”
There was nothing forceful about his voice or his touch. In fact, both were rather pleasantly warm and inviting. Yet, either on instinct or reflex, when his lips met hers Rory lifted her hand to his chest to stop him in place.
“I’m sorry, Jake. I think I should go home.”
His look of blank confusion stayed with her for the entire awkward, silent ride back to her house. She supposed he hadn’t faced a lot of rejection in his life. And Rory wasn’t really sure where it came from, if she was scared by inexperience, or maybe something else. It just didn’t feel right.
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