The Edge of You

by Theresa Dalayne

He shifted on the warm, wooden dock, and continued to search for holes or snags in the last ten fathoms of fishing net. The crisp summer sun beat down on his bare shoulders, his arms throbbing from the morning’s work. He’d been there since almost six in the morning to get a head start on the to-do list his skipper gave him the day before.

  “How’re those nets comin’ along?” Wes called from the deck of the dingy white and blue fishing vessel, gently bobbing with the movement of the sea.

  Jake lifted his thumb in the air. “About done,” he shouted in response. The skipper ran his hand over his scruffy beard and nodded, then vanished into the top house of the boat.

  Once he paid Wes back for the money he borrowed to freight his car to Kodiak, he’d finally be in the green. Until then, it would be early mornings and probably a few late nights.

  His phone rang. Jake pulled it out of his pocket to see Maya’s name on the caller ID. He hesitated. Wes wouldn’t be happy to see him on the phone at work. Not unless it was something related to his mom. He stole a glanced at the boat as Maya’s name continued to blink on the caller ID.

  He flipped it open and pressed it to his hear. “Hello?”

  “Hey.”

  Her voice was quiet. He furrowed his brows and continued examining the net, his phone pinned between his cheek and shoulder. “Uh, hey. Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.”

  He paused. Being the only son of a single mom, he was well aware that tone meant she wasn’t okay, no matter how many times she said otherwise. “What’s going on?”

  “I just had a rough morning.”

  Jake pulled the phone back and glanced at the time before returning it to his ear. “Tell me about it. I’ve been at work for eight hours already, and I still have more to do.”

  “Work? You’re at the docks?”

  “Yep.”

  “Well, I couldn’t get a ride home from school, so I decided to walk around. I’ve been checking out these little shops in town, but it seems like they’re mostly bars and stores for tourists. Maybe I’ll swing by the docks. I can see them from here.”

  Jake looked toward the town square, where a grocery store dwarfed a chain of local stores. In the distance was a girl with long brown hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder.

  Wes would be annoyed to catch him talking on the phone, but he’d be fucking pissed to see a girl distracting him from work. “I actually still have more net to—”

  “Oh, look. I think I can see you.” She waved her hand high above her head. “Is that you?”

  He looked at the boat again, then back to Maya. “Yep. But just to warn you, I smell like fish and sweat.”

  “Ew, but I’ll come over anyway.”

  Jake snapped his phone shut and kicked at the net piled at his feet. If he rushed through the rest, he’d probably miss some holes, and the salmon would slip through. It had happened before in previous fishing seasons, and Wes tore into the deckhand like nothing he’d ever seen. Jake would just have to hope Wes didn’t flip out too bad if he noticed Maya, though if he were honest, it would be nice to have some company to make time pass faster.

  Within a few minutes, she was close enough for him to see she’d changed the color of her hair to electric purple, her lips glossed with a pink tint.

  Jake nodded. “Hey, stalker. Nice hair.”

  Maya ran her fingers through the tips. “Like it? I needed a change.”

  “I do like it, actually.” He chuckled and gestured to her bulky sweater. “I see you’re trying to blend?”

  “Hardy-har.” She extended her hands to her sides, staring down at her clothes. “I’m officially an Alaskan.”

  He arched a brow. “Not quite.”

  “Well.” She walked toward him, checking out the net, and he could have sworn, him. “I think I’m adjusting pretty gracefully—considering.”

  Jake wiped away beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. “I’ll give you bonus points for jumping into the lake with no clothes on.”

  She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m just cool like that.” She snorted with a laugh, and lowered herself to the dock beside him, crossing her legs in front of her. “So why weren’t you in art class today?”

  He pulled more line through his hands. “I had to come to work early and couldn’t make it to any of my classes.”

  “Won’t that hurt your grades?”

  “If I don’t make up the assignments, yeah. I had to drop my online classes too, which sucks. But it just means I won’t graduate early.” He froze, remembering his English paper due the next day. “Damn it.” He dropped the net in his lap. “I forgot about an essay I have to write. The professor is a real hard-ass, too. If I turn it in late, he’ll take like twenty points from my grade.”

  “Ouch.” Maya examined the net and picked up a corner with the tips of her fingers. “Maybe I can help.”

  “With the net?”

  “No. With your paper.” She shrugged. “But I don’t have anything better to do at the moment, so if you need help with your net…”

  “It helps that you’re keeping me company. I’m almost done anyway, and if you handle this stuff too much, your hands will stink like old seafood.”

  She cringed. “Yeah, I’d like to avoid that if at all possible.”

  For the next few hours, they sat on the dock, talking about their classes and professors, the places they wanted to travel, and a few things in between.

  She spent almost twenty minutes talking about Venice, Italy, and how she’d always wanted to ride a gondola down the canals. She wanted to go to Petra in Jordan, scuba dive in Jamaica, and go hang-gliding in Switzerland. The girl had a serious bucket list, but she was ambitious. She didn’t stop smiling while talking about pictures she’d seen of castles in Austria, and how cool it would be to live in one. But the way her eyes sparked while talking about art made it clear that was her true passion. The action of skimming his fingers over the fishing line became rhythmic, and he found himself totally focused on her.

  When Jake pulled the last of the net through his hands, he folded it up so it wouldn’t become tangled and returned it to the boat. Maya stood on the dock while he slipped on his shirt and pounded on his skipper’s door. “Done, Wes.”

  There was a mumble from the other side of the room—enough for Jake to take off without being assigned another task.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Maya

  “Make yourself at home,” Jake said as she followed him into his apartment. He grabbed a pair of socks from the armrest of the couch and tossed them in the laundry basket in the hall.

  “Thanks.” She shut the door and unzipped her sweater to reveal her black, scoop neck shirt with the cover of God Save the Queen printed on the front.

  “Nice shirt.”

  “Thanks. You like the Sex Pistols?”

  He pointed to the shelf behind her. “I have almost all of their albums. You can flip through them while I’m in the shower if you want.”

  Music was one of the few discrepancies she had with Beth, who hated any form of punk. But Maya had been listening to bands like Green Day and The Ataris ever since she was old enough to attend her first live concert. “Okay. You go do that and then we’ll start on that paper.”

  When Jake vanished into the back room, Maya called Beth to kill some time. It had been forever since they talked—or at least it seemed like forever.

  The phone rang only once before Beth picked up. “Hey, stranger.”

  Maya’s heart jumped at her friend’s voice. “Hey.”

  “What’s up? Talk to me. I’m getting dressed to go out with the girls. We all miss you like crazy.”

  Maya sighed and sat back on the couch. “I miss you too. I’m sitting in the living room of that guy I—”

  “Oh, that’s right! Spill!”

  Maya glanced at the bathroom door. “Okay, but I can only talk for a minute. He’s in the shower right now.”

  “Did you sleep with him? How was he?”

  Ma
ya sat up straight, her eyes wide. “No I didn’t sleep with him,” she whispered harshly. “He just got off work.”

  “Why haven’t you made a move?”

  “Because I just met him.”

  “So?”

  Maya rolled her eyes. “Because I’m not a slut. There. Is that better?”

  “But you do need to get laid.”

  Beth had always been so blunt about, well, everything. She shouldn’t have expected anything less in this situation. “Even if I wanted to, which I don’t—yet, I don’t think he’s like that. He seems...” Maya untied the elastic band from her hair and raked her fingers through her braid. “Sweet.”

  “You know how I feel about sweet.”

  “Yes, I know. But you know how I feel about sleeping with a guy after only knowing him for a few weeks. Or in your case, the first date.”

  “Oh, get over it. You’re twenty, hot, and the new girl in town. Take advantage of the situation.”

  Maya sighed. “Thanks for the great advice. I’ll think about it.”

  “No you won’t.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  The door to the bathroom opened and Jake silently passed through the hall with a towel wrapped around his waist, showing the curves of his abs. Maya bit her lip. He seriously had to stop walking around without a shirt on. She had always been a sucker for a guy with piercings and tattoos, and Jake had both, not to mention a killer body.

  “So how are your parents?” Beth asked, dragging Maya’s attention back to their conversation.

  “Uh, they’re...okay, I think. My mom is—”

  Jake emerged from his room wearing a fitted T-shirt and basketball shorts, his hair still a shaggy mess. She lifted her index finger. He nodded and grabbed his computer off the table. It was all pretty much the same space—more like a studio, but with an actual bedroom.

  “Hey, I have to go,” Maya said. “I’ll call you back later.”

  “What? Did he get out of the shower?”

  “Uh...” She glanced at Jake. “Yeah.”

  “Fine. Think about what I said, and you better call me back.”

  Maya nodded, as if Beth could actually see her. “I know I haven’t called much, but I will. Call you, I mean. Not the other thing.” Jake took out a beer from the fridge and held it up, offering it silently from across the room. Maya shook her head. “Okay, bye.” She hung up the phone as Jake popped open a drink.

  Usually, it wouldn’t bother her for someone to have a casual beer. She’d spent enough time watching people get completely trashed on the beaches of California during late-night bonfires. But considering everything that was happening with her mother lately, even the sight of it made her a little queasy.

  Jake sipped some and licked his lips.

  “How old are you?” she asked.

  “Twenty-one. Why?” He sat beside her, smelling like warm sandalwood. It had to have been his body wash. The scent of it was intoxicating.

  She shrugged. “I’m just asking.”

  He lifted his beer. “If this is making you uncomfortable, I don’t have to drink it.”

  She pushed down the yucky feeling swirling in her gut. “No, I’m fine.” She sat back, in desperate need to change the subject. “So do you have any idea who you’re going to write your paper on?”

  Jake examined her for a moment, and then stood, walked into the kitchen, and poured the beer down the sink.

  Maya sat up, her fingers curled around the edge of the couch. “What are you doing?”

  “Dumping out my beer. You’re not cool with it and that’s fine. I don’t mind.”

  “But...” She didn’t have it in her to argue she was okay with watching him gulp down the substance that sent her mom into rehab, and forced her to live most of her childhood filled with uncertainty.

  Maya couldn’t hold his gaze as he watched her from behind the counter. “I’m sorry,” she said in a soft tone. “I didn’t mean to make a big deal out of it. It’s just...” She scooted back and pulled her legs up, sitting cross-legged on the couch. “It’s kind of a problem in my family.”

  “Then I don’t blame you for feeling that way about it.” He walked through the room and sat down beside her, his arm draped over the back of the couch. “I grew up with just my mom. Deciphering what a woman really means when she says she’s ‘fine’ is like second nature to me now.” Without saying another word about it, he grabbed his computer and set it on his lap. “And no. I have no damn clue who I want to write the paper on.”

  She was thankful he didn’t try to dig deeper by asking a bunch of awkward questions she’d probably fumble through. “You don’t know anyone who inspires you?”

  He shrugged. “Not really.”

  “Okay.” She turned toward him, her legs still crossed in front of her. “You could write about someone like Abraham Lincoln or Martin Luther King, Jr.”

  Jake shook his head.

  “Yeah.” She rested her chin on the inside of her palm, her elbow pressed on top of her knee. “What about your dad?”

  “No dad.”

  “Your mom? She raised you all alone, right? That’s pretty inspiring.”

  “I guess that’s true.” His deep blue eyes locked with hers. “Who would you write about?”

  Her gaze wandered into the distance while she considered his question. “Probably my sister,” she said in a soft tone, recalling Gracie’s ability to turn the shittiest day into one that wasn’t so bad.

  “Something about how you said that tells me I shouldn’t ask why.” He watched her for a second longer before opening his laptop.

  She examined him while he silently clicked around on his computer. “My sister’s name was Gracie. She…” Maya played with the hem of her shirt. “She drowned at the beach.”

  Jake lifted his head, his lips softly parted. “Oh.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Was she a pretty happy kid?”

  Maya held her breath as pain slowly spread through her chest. She tried not to think of the hole in her heart from missing her little sister’s bright eyes, and how the quiet haze of her house haunted her at night. Maya nodded. “Yeah. She was always happy.”

  He offered another gentle smile. “She wouldn’t have been so happy if you weren’t a good sister. At least you have that.”

  “Yeah.” The pain in her chest faded under his warm gaze. “I have that.”

  He sat back. “Maybe I should write my paper on you, then.”

  Maya snorted with a grin. “You’ll fail that paper for sure.”

  The edges of his mouth curved into a full smile. “You snort when you laugh.”

  She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god.” The words were muffled from beneath her fingers. “I hate that.”

  “I think it’s cute as hell.” He examined her with a strange spark in his eyes; as if he were thinking something he couldn’t, or wouldn’t say. She tried not to squirm under his gaze, but soon found herself twisting a strand of her hair around her finger. She froze, then dropped her hand to her lap. Funny, that had never been a habit of hers before.

  “And I like the new color.” He ran his fingers through the tips of her hair. “Purple looks good on you.”

  She must have been as red as a beet, her cheeks flushed.

  So. Embarrassing.

  “Thanks. I like trying different things. Figured hair color is the easiest one that I can do as much as I want, so I don’t get bored.”

  He typed a few words, then pivoted the laptop toward her.

  Maya Reed. Creative, clumsy, and incredibly cute.

  Her cheeks blazed with more heat, and she let out a nervous giggle—then a snort.

  “Okay, all done.” He shut the computer.

  Her smile vanished. “What, you’re serious?”

  “Yep.” As he tried to stand up, Maya grabbed his hand and pulled him back down on the couch beside her.

  “No way. You’ll bomb your paper if you turn that in.”

  His shoulders slumped forward and he l
owered his head. “But I’m hungry.”

  Maya grabbed her cell phone out of her pocket. “Doesn’t anyone on this island deliver?”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jake

  Jake lay in bed on top of a plaid blanket, staring up at the ceiling with his arms crossed behind his head and the smell of Chinese food still lingering in his apartment. The room was dark except for the green glow from his alarm clock.

  His paper was done and e-mailed it to his professor—with three whole hours to spare. They eventually settled on Thomas Jefferson. The assignment was hell, but she made it way more bearable, and even offered to help him again if he had any other essays in the future. It had been a long time since someone was willing to help him with anything.

  The sun had begun to set, telling Jake it was finally time to sleep. He had a long day of work on the docks, and then school, and if he wanted to survive whatever tasks his skipper had for him tomorrow, he’d have to get some rest.

  He stripped off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. Just as his muscles relaxed and his body sank into the mattress, his phone rang. Jake sucked in a breath and blinked open his eyes, then groped through the covers for his phone. He found it and glanced at the caller ID—private number. It had to be the hospital again.

  He flipped it open. “Hello?”

  “Hey, honey.”

  He sat up in bed, surprised to hear his mom’s voice on the other end. “Mom. How are you feeling?”

  “Tired and a little achy, but okay.” Her voice was raspy, but at least she was coherent and talking.

  “I tried calling twice today while I was at work but they had all of your calls forwarded to the nurse’s station.”

  “Yeah. They wanted me to get some sleep, but I’m a little better now...and I have some news.”

  A rush of heat shot through his core. News. That could mean a lot of things. “Okay...” He ran his fingers through his hair, pressing the phone harder against his ear. “Go ahead.”

  “Well, the doctor tells me they found a blood clot. Jake...they’re worried.”

  He rubbed his hand over his face. “Why didn’t they catch it sooner?”

  “I don’t know.” She sighed. “But the important thing is they see it now.”