She sighs. “Fine.”
I push up and lift her limp body up and into the bed, covering her with a thin sheet. “Be right back.”
I move quickly, eager to get back to her, but when I do I find her sitting up and curled around something in her hand.
“Hey.” I cross to the other side of the bed and with her hair falling forward I can’t make out her expression. “What’s . . .” I stare at the object in her hand.
An earring.
Sydney’s earring.
Fuck!
“Celia . . .”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t snooping. I got up to get my panties and stepped on it—”
“Don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” I drop down on the bed next to her feeling like the hugest asshole in the world.
Her big green eyes come to mine and I force myself to look right at them even though the hurt I see there rips through my chest.
“There’s this girl—”
“Oh God.” She drops her chin to hide her face behind her hair.
“Please, just hear me out. I haven’t touched her or talked to her since you and I started hanging out.”
“But—”
“Listen to me.” I hook her chin and tilt her face up. “I . . .” Fuck! This is uncomfortable as hell, but I don’t want to lose her. “I’ve been single for a very long time and, shit, you’re the first girl in as far as I can remember that I’ve wanted to spend time with. Not just a quick roll, but actually hang out with.” The words keep pouring out before I can stop them. “You said it yourself, I’m not a pillar of virtue, but I can say that since our first kiss, I’ve never even thought of other women, let alone touched one because all I can think of is you.”
She licks her lips and then hands me the earring. The piece of metal practically burns my palm so I chuck it across the room toward the kitchen.
“It’s cool, Aden. I get it.” She flashes a shaky smile.
“You know how it is, right? I mean, you didn’t marry any of the men I saw you in those photos with, so you understand the concept of casual sex.”
She seems to deflate from my words, but nods. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”
“Come here.” I pull her to my chest and she falls into my arms. “I promise, freckles, you’re the only woman in my life now.”
She lays her hand over my stomach and holds me tighter as I run my fingers through her hair.
“You believe me, right?” I sound so fucking pathetic, but I need to know she does.
“I do.” She yawns and as much as it pains me to let her sleep thinking she might still feel a little unsure about whatever this is between us, I kiss her head and whisper, “Go to sleep.”
As soon as her breathing evens out I slip from under her and grab the earring and toss it into the bay still feeling like a dick. I lock up the boat and then sit on the edge of the bed to watch her sleep for a few minutes until I feel like a creepy dickhead and curl in behind her. She grumbles a little and I kiss her head and run my fingers along the soft planes of her belly. “Shh . . . it’s okay.”
A sense of purpose settles inside me. Something that tells me I’m right where I need to be and doing exactly what I was called to do. It’s a feeling I’ve only gotten before when overseas on deployment. And I’ve certainly never felt it simply holding a woman.
God, Celia has my head all fucked up.
I close my eyes and begin to drift, thinking only of her as sleep pulls me under.
When I wake up, she’s gone.
FOURTEEN
SAWYER
I’ve been sitting on Celia’s porch watching the sun slowly light the Pacific Ocean, trying to decide if it’s too early to call.
After finding that earring at Aden’s and having Celia’s sexual history thrown back in my face, I took the coward’s way out and pretended to fall asleep. It was childish, but I couldn’t stand the idea of Aden sleeping with a woman right where we had just made love. Sometime in the early morning I finally dozed off only to wake to sounds of fishing boats prepping for a day at sea. I hated sneaking out of Aden’s bed but I was desperate to talk to my sister.
Two cups of coffee later, I check my phone. It’s nearly seven in the morning, and there’s a good chance she might be awake.
I hit her number, fully expecting another ridiculous voice message.
“Sawyer, hey . . .”
She sounds sleepy, and usually I’d feel like shit for waking her up, but I need to talk to her.
“How do you do it?” The words come out in a rush of breath as I’d been holding them in all morning.
There’s the sound of rustling in the background and she clears her throat. “If you’re asking how I pull off being awesome it’s just a gift—”
“Cece,” I whisper, just to ensure no one overhears. “I’m serious.”
“I can see that. You’re always serious, Sawyer, that’s your problem. What happened?”
I tell her the story about Aden, how I’d slept with him and was staying at his boat, and then about the earring.
“I’m trying to be like you, but I need some help here. How do you share something as intimate as sex with someone without growing feelings for them? Finding that earring made me feel horrid. And it wasn’t just feeling like another notch in his bedpost, I felt disappointed in him.”
“You’re passing judgment on the guy when you know nothing about the kind of relationship he had with that woman.”
“I am not passing judgment—”
“You’re doing the exact same thing he did when he saw those photos in my place. You’re drawing conclusions that may or may not be accurate.” She sighs. “Sawyer, this is one of the reasons why you needed this so badly. You broke up with a guy for tucking his T-shirts into his underwear.”
“I did not!” Mark didn’t do that, thank God, because that’s just weird.
“Everyone has faults. And I know this might come as a surprise, but you’re not exactly perfect.”
My pulse pounds in my neck and I’m reminded of what Polly said to me at the bar the other night. “Oh yes, and thank you for reminding me. I heard from a woman I’ve never seen in my life that I’m some kind of agoraphobic freak. Thanks for that. It’s nice to know how you see me.”
I’m met with silence and the hurt from that night combined with the knowledge that Aden was fucking some other girl in his bed just days before all comes crashing down over me.
“That’s what this is about anyway, isn’t it? You trying to fix everything you think is wrong with me before you leave me forever?” My eyes heat with tears. “Well, guess what? Maybe I don’t want to be the kind of girl who whores herself off just to chase a good orgasm. Maybe I like the idea that I could share something special with one man, one who values me enough to keep me around for longer than it takes to come, huh? Maybe you should spend some time being me for a bit, see what it’s like to work a real job and date like a normal person!” I’m practically hysterical now, tears streaming down my face and my muscles twitching with adrenaline.
“Feel better?”
No, I do not feel better. I feel like a giant piece of shit.
I’m out of control and I hate it.
“I’m sorry, I gotta go.”
“Don’t you want me to answer the question you called to ask?”
When I don’t respond, she continues.
“How do I do it? It’s easy not to get attached when you don’t put these ridiculous expectations on people.”
“Ridiculous? So monogamy is a ridiculous expectation, is that what you’re saying?”
“All I’m saying is not everything has to have significance or lasting consequences. Some people have sex because it’s fun or they’re bored and when it’s over they move on.”
“I’m not like that. I can’t separate sex from feelings.”
“I think you can, just not with Aden.”
“What does that mean?”
“You didn’t seem to have a probl
em moving on after Mark.”
Stunned, I drop back and stare motionless at the yawning sea.
She clears her throat. “Maybe you and I aren’t all that different after all.”
“What do I do now?” The words come from my lips but sound as if they’re coming from someone else. Is it possible my feelings for Aden, a man I hardly know, are stronger than what I felt for a man I lived with for months?
“I say just go with it.” There’s the sound of rustling sheets. “Have as much fun as you can with the time you have left.”
If this is “fun,” why does it hurt.
“I better go. Love you.”
The line goes dead.
I push up from my seat and go back into the cottage, my thoughts mulling over Celia’s words. Unable to make sense of any of it, I stay busy by rinsing out my coffee mug and get back to packing.
I don’t know how much time has passed, but I’m covering the last knickknack on a bookshelf with bubble wrap when a knock sounds at the door.
My heart leaps, thinking it might be Aden and fearing what I’d say to him, but the shadowed outline through the curtains proves my visitor is way too small to be him.
“Come in!”
Zoë comes bouncing through the door in a pair of spandex capris and a sports bra, her skin glistening with sweat. Does anyone in this town wear a shirt when they jog? “Hey, whatcha’ doing?”
My eyes dart from side to side thinking maybe Zoë isn’t the brightest seashell on the beach. I’d think it was pretty obvious. “Packing.”
“Cool!” She drops down on a stool. “So what happened to you guys the other night? Polly said Aden got weird and dragged you out of Lenny’s.” Her eyebrows pop high on her forehead.
“What? No, that’s not what happened.” I continue to tape up the bubble wrap, keeping my eyes down. “We were late for a movie.”
“Oh yeah, what movie did you see?”
Shit!
I shrug one shoulder, wondering what Celia would do, or say, in this situation. My mind completely blanking, I can’t think of a single movie that’s even out, so I do what I’m beginning to do best. I lie. “No clue. We were too busy making out, all I saw were the ending credits.”
“You little skank!” The way she says it is like she’s giving a compliment and I’m reminded how different from Celia I really am. “So where’s Sergeant Psycho now?”
“He’s not Psycho.” I rein in my urge to defend him and smile, but it’s all teeth. “Probably fishing.”
I have no idea where he is. I’m sure he was surprised when he woke up to see me gone, I know I would’ve been if the roles were reversed, but then again he’s accustomed to casual sex so . . . maybe my leaving before the sun came up won’t even register on his radar.
“Do you need any help?” Zoë scans the room, her eyes landing on the pot of coffee. She hops off her stool and helps herself to a cup, then heads over to flop on the couch next to me. “I can keep you company while you pack.”
“Sure, sounds good.” I scream internally and throw on my best Celia mask.
This is going to be a long day.
ADEN
“I’ll be damned, Colt. You hit the mother lode.” Paul who does the buying for the fish market looks down at my day’s bounty. “Yellowtail, barracuda, halibut, there’s over two hundred pounds of fish here.”
Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you fish for twelve hours straight. “You interested?” My question is clipped, but I’m fucking exhausted and edgy as shit.
“Let me grab the checkbook.” Paul disappears into one of the offices and comes back with a couple men who he instructs to weigh each type of fish and report numbers.
I slide down the wall and to my ass, holding my head in my hands. It’s been throbbing like a motherfucker for the last few hours. I’d like to say it’s from the sun but the overwhelming urge to down a bottle of whiskey tells me it’s probably from my modest drinking day.
It’s not that I didn’t want to get fucked up, and Lord knows I had plenty of shit on my mind I would’ve liked to numb, but I was a machine today. I headed out to my secret spot and was pulling fish in one after the other, I barely had time to throw back a few beers let alone eat.
Or think about Celia.
It was what I wanted, to overwork my body so I wouldn’t focus on my thoughts. Being out at sea meant I couldn’t give in to my urges to call her, to ask her why the fuck she snuck out on me.
And to ask myself why I even care.
The sound of a check being ripped from its book calls my eyes to Paul. He hands me my payment that is just over three thousand dollars. Not bad.
I’d smile and pat myself on the back if I wasn’t so pissed for fucking everything up with Celia last night.
I go back and forth between wanting to kick my own ass for not seeing that damn earring earlier, and wanting to shake her for being so sensitive about it. She had to expect I’d been with other women before her, I know she’d been with Brice and I’m not over here pouting about that.
Pushing up, my muscles protest as I head back to the dock to shower and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep. Music comes filtering out of the Office as I pass and, just my fucking luck, Syd is heading into work from the parking lot.
“Aden, hey.”
With my eyes to the ground I consider just ignoring her, but I’m not that much of a dick. I stop and meet her eyes. “Syd, what’s up?”
“Eh . . . same ole shit.” Her hair is down, silky dark waves falling over her shoulders, and looking at them only makes me crave Celia. Syd tilts her head to study me. “You just in from fishing?”
I grunt and nod.
“Why don’t you come in for a drink?”
My mouth waters at the prospect of getting drunk, something that never really bothered me before, but now makes me feel like a lush. “Not tonight.”
She frowns. “You haven’t been around lately.”
“Just been busy.”
“Oh, okay . . . maybe later.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so, Syd.”
Her lips purse and she nods, then studies the ground between her feet. “It’s cool, I get it. I better go. I’m gonna be late.”
I don’t say a word, just stand there in my own fuckedupedness as she scurries through the door.
Here I assumed we’d been hooking up to meet a need, but it seems maybe Sydney’s feelings run deeper. Why did I never consider that?
I’m a selfish prick.
My muscles feel tight and although I’m tired there’s a pent-up energy brewing dangerously behind my ribs, calling me to my trusted coping skills.
I want to drink and get in a fight and then fuck until I pass out.
Celia’s smile flashes behind my eyes and I punch in the code to the gate with more force than needed.
I can’t believe she blew me off.
I head straight for my boat when I pass a group of guys huddled around talking.
“. . . shot down with an RPG.”
I freeze mid-step.
“Did they say how many were killed?”
My pulse slows to a dull thud.
“No one survived—”
“What happened?” The barking tone of my question sends all eyes to me.
They’re grim-faced, but Rick whose boat is docked two slips down from mine is the one who answers. “US transport helicopter got shot down over Syria.”
“Transport . . .?” That means the fucker was loaded to the hilt with US troops. “Death count?”
“They’re saying thirty-seven, but no official confirmation yet—Colt, where’re you going?”
I jump on my boat and go straight for the liquor cabinet. Grabbing a fresh bottle of whiskey, I take it with me to the shower. Hitting on the cold water I pour gulp after gulp of the booze down my throat, not feeling the burn but rather the sweet relief.
Men are dying and I’m stuck here doing fucking nothing about it.
Worthless.
&nbs
p; Drunk.
A fucking disgrace to the uniform I’m no longer allowed to wear.
FIFTEEN
SAWYER
I’ve run out of things to do.
I packed until I had no more boxes, took a long hot shower, even blow-dried my hair and brushed on some light makeup hoping Aden would show up unexpectedly, but it’s almost seven o’clock at night and I’ve heard nothing.
To say I regret sneaking out of his bed in the wee hours of the morning is an understatement. I should’ve at least let him know I was leaving and promised to call him later. Because I didn’t, now everything feels weird.
I wonder if he’s sitting on his boat staring at his phone waiting for me to call.
Just like I’ve been waiting for him.
As if a man like Aden would ever pine after a woman like me. How long would he wait before he invited a new woman into his bed?
Some people have sex because it’s fun or they’re bored and when it’s over they move on.
Could I be that girl? The kind that takes what she wants when she wants it?
A flash of silver on the coffee table catches my eye.
The coin.
I snag it and roll it around between my fingers.
It’s what Celia would do.
Heads, I call him.
Closing my eyes I flip the coin and hear it thump to the ground. Scrambling over it I squint and—tails. Huh. I fall back onto the couch and although I hoped to feel some relief at leaving this decision up to fate, I’m let down by the result.
I flip the coin again.
Tails, I call him.
I bend over the quarter after it hits the ground and—heads.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Pacing back and forth in the room, staring at the quarter on the ground, I chew my lip—“Best three out of five.”
I close my eyes and toss the coin once more. Peeking with one eye—“Don’t call him.”
I stare across the room at my phone. “Screw it.”
Wrecked Page 17
