I caught up to her before we got to the register, handing her a button-up sweater I’d found. “This too,” I said. She looked at it curiously. “I don’t want you to get cold.” I hoped I sounded sincere; I didn’t want to tell her I was a stark raving jealous loon when it came to guys ogling her, and that dress was exposing just a little too much…sunshine for my liking.
We left with two plastic bags containing our wet clothes. I was glad to be carrying the bags because it kept me from putting my arm around her.
“Are we going home?” she asked.
“Do you want to?”
She was quiet for a moment, and I held my breath waiting for her answer. “Not unless you want to.”
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“There’s a place on the boardwalk with a ton of vegetarian options.”
She seemed surprised that I would think of her dietary restrictions. This girl had no idea I thought about her all the time.
Not only was the line out the door at the restaurant I’d chosen, it stretched around the corner. It was the day before Thanksgiving, and no one was cooking at home today. I checked my watch, happy it was as waterproof as claimed and was still ticking away. I mentally patted myself on the back for my perfect timing.
“Ethan, we don’t have to eat here. It’s going to be hours before we get seated.”
“Or no time at all.” I took her hand and led her inside.
“Reservations for Callahan, party of two,” I said to the hostess.
We were seated in the quiet corner as I’d requested.
“When did you make reservations?”
“This morning after you agreed to come.”
“What if I had wanted to leave?”
I shrugged. “Then I would have canceled them. It’s not like they couldn’t use the table. Are you mad?”
“No, but it’s weird that you were keeping us on a schedule this whole time, and I didn’t realize it. Did you plan the ocean?”
“Walking along it, yes. Making you wet, no.” Shit, I coughed, trying to cover up the stupid thing I’d said.
She lifted the menu so I couldn’t see her face.
“I made the reservation because the restaurants here get busy. I wanted to take you somewhere nice.”
Although I couldn’t see her, I knew her voice well enough to know she was smiling. “There is a lot of stuff I can eat here. Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
We shared a nice dinner over candlelight and laughter. It made me happy to see the joy in her face and know I had a part in that. I liked making her happy. I’d debated the whole day about bringing up her birthday, but I decided to go through with it. I hated the fact it depressed her. I wanted to give it back to her. It was the present I most wanted to give her.
“Sunshine, I know you don’t celebrate your birthday, but do you mind if I do?”
“What do you mean?”
“I want cake…Will you have some with me?”
She was thoughtful for a moment as she always was when weighing things. “Dessert would be nice.”
When the waitress left, Meena looked at me quizzically.
“What?” I asked.
“She didn’t ask what we wanted.”
“I know.”
They brought out the small chocolate cake I’d ordered. “Happy Birthday, Meena” was iced on top in pink cursive with one long candle in the middle.
“You did this?”
I nodded. “The birthday wish is the strongest wish there is. You’ve wasted so many of them. It’s time you made one.”
I relaxed when she smiled. The candlelight reflected off her face, illuminating her gorgeous eyes. She closed them to make her wish. I wanted to grant whatever it was. She was silent for a moment, pursing those perfect lips, before blowing out the candle.
“What did you wish for?”
“It won’t come true if I tell.”
“If it’s meant to come true, it will. That’s just an old wives tale.”
She cut the cake and doled out the pieces. The math guy in me appreciated the perfect, even pie shapes.
She laughed, skimming the icing off her cake and licking her fork. “So, let me get this straight. You believe the birthday wish is real, but the telling part isn’t?”
“I guess so.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you. After all, we wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I wished we didn’t have to leave. This has been such an unexpected, fun day.”
“I can make your wish come true.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s spend the night.”
She dropped her fork.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to explain myself. “Sorry, that’s not what I meant. There’s a nice hotel along the beach. We can get separate rooms. I thought we’d just hang out tomorrow since it’s Thanksgiving and all.”
She didn’t believe me.
“I didn’t make a reservation, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m sure they have rooms. If not, there are tons of places here, but hey…we don’t have to stay. I just…I want to make your wish come true.”
She didn’t answer for a long time, concentrating on her cake.
I waited like I always did, but I ran out of patience. “Meena, it was a bad idea. I spoke before I thought.”
“It’s okay. It was my wish after all.”
After dinner, we strolled along the boardwalk. There were a ton of couples, walking hand in hand. Street vendors were selling an assortment of snacks and souvenirs. The stores were all lit up and busy. A man on a microphone was encouraging people to come inside a theater to watch some kind of macabre show.
“Thank you, Ethan. It’s been a long time since I’ve celebrated my birthday. Thank you for today. Also, thank you for not making the restaurant sing happy birthday to me. That would’ve been embarrassing.”
I stopped walking and smiled coyly at her. “I’m curious. How long has it been since someone’s sang that song to you?”
She swallowed. “Seven years.”
“I think we should make up for that.”
I walked over to the guy with the microphone. “Can I borrow this?”
He scowled at me, not letting it go. I took out my wallet and peeled a few bills. They were still damp. I was smart enough to remember the cell phones, but not my wallet. He snatched them, handing over the microphone.
I started singing the birthday song. She was far enough away so it wasn’t obvious I was singing to her. I was no great singer, but this song didn’t require that. It was also infectious, and soon, all the people walking along the crowded boardwalk halted and joined in.
Meena’s eyes darted around, taking it all in, but I only had eyes for her. She was embarrassed, but damn it, she deserved to hear this song, and now she had at least a hundred people singing it to her. We sounded awful, but that wasn’t the point.
Everyone clapped when it was over. Even though I tried to make her anonymous, it was pretty obvious I was singing to her. Several strangers stopped to wish her a happy birthday. She smiled politely but self-consciously.
“Come here,” I said, crooking my finger. She stepped toward me hesitantly, but when she was in reach, I put my arm around her and held it tightly. I hugged her and whispered in her ear, “Are you ready to beat the shit out of me yet?”
She laughed. “You’re lucky I like you.”
“Yes, I am.”
I opened her door for her when we got to the car. She flashed a brilliant smile at me, pausing before stepping in. “If you still want to make my wish come true, I would like that. I’d like to spend Thanksgiving here with you as long as we get separate rooms.”
“Absolutely,” I replied with a huge-ass grin.
Meena wasn’t playing a mind game with me. She was honest, and I liked that about her. The truth was I wished for something more, but she didn’t, and I would respect that.
Chapter 10
WE HAD DONE SO MUCH that it was hard to
believe it was just one day. It was equally hard to come to grips with the fact I’d been hung-over and exceptionally sad this morning and now I was deliriously happy. Ethan had done that for me. I usually spent this day sulking, crying, and always alone. It hadn’t been a good day for me in a long time. Not until today.
I expected a small motel near the beach, not a luxurious seaside resort with gleaming chandeliers, polished marble floors, and a concierge desk. My jaw dropped at the room prices. Two rooms would be over a thousand dollars! “Ethan, we can go somewhere cheaper,” I suggested when we stood in line at the registration desk.
He shook his head. “This is on the beach. Don’t worry. I can afford this.”
Judging from his lifestyle, he could, but it still seemed like a waste of money, and he’d spent so much today…on me. “Get one room.” He cocked his eyebrows, so I quickly added, “One room, double beds. Friends can do that, right? Spend the night in the same room?”
“I don’t mind getting two rooms.”
“One room, two beds,” I repeated.
Ethan paid for our room, and the lady in reception asked if we had any luggage. I looked away, embarrassed that we didn’t. She would think this was some sort of sordid booty call, but Ethan wasn’t flustered at all. In fact, he didn’t seem to care what other people thought. I admired that quality about him.
“No luggage, but we need these laundered please.” He slid the plastic bags with our damp clothes to her. She stared at them questioningly, but took them.
We headed to the hotel store. There wasn’t a great deal of selection, but Ethan found ridiculous T-shirts embossed with flourishing script stating “Santa Cruz was made for lovers.” He grinned lopsidedly as he handed one to me. We bought simple cotton shorts and a few toiletries too.
The room was amazing, done up in neutral colors, with a large balcony that framed the beach like it was a work of art. There were two beds broken up by a nightstand. A small, striped settee sat in front of a flat screen television. We looked at each other, and for the first time, we both seemed lost for words. It was a spacious room, but it felt claustrophobic. This was a bad idea.
I blurted out the first question I could think of just to fill the empty space. “Are you rich?”
He laughed. “Why do you ask?”
“I’m sorry, that came off so…tactless.”
“You can ask me anything.”
“I was just wondering, because you don’t come off as the typical college student. You live in a very posh apartment in one of the highest-rent districts in the world. You drive a nice car, and this hotel…Well, it’s not something I would have picked. I hope I’m not taking advantage of you, economically. I know today was very expensive.”
“It’s nice of you to be concerned about that. The answer is yes. My mother’s well off, but I have my own money. My father was very successful. He left me a lot of money when he died. So much, I don’t need to worry about it. I invested the bulk of it and budget myself, but yes, you could say I’m wealthy. I don’t usually tell people, but they figure it out.”
“That must be hard for you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m sure people treat you differently when they find out, and even if they don’t, you’d wonder if they were. But, mostly, I think it would be hard because of the way you obtained it. I’m sure you’d give it all back to have your father.”
A wistful smile spread over his face. “That’s exactly right. I would—even if it were just one more day. You know, the thing that hurts the most is the absence of him. Whenever I hear a funny joke or the Yankees win, I want to pick up the phone and call him, but there’s no one to call.”
He sat on the one of the beds. I remained standing, wanting to comfort him but not trusting myself to be close to him. “Ethan, I hope you’re not offended, but I think it might be easier if you believed in God.”
“It’s hard for me to believe in things I can’t explain. My mind is rooted in science and math and the belief that there is an answer to every question. The moment you explain the answer with God, you stop trying to find the truth. I can’t accept that.”
“Sometimes it’s not about thinking. It’s just feeling. I didn’t always believe like I do now.”
“What changed?”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I have to believe my brother went to a better place than this, or maybe he’s back here again, starting over.”
“Reincarnation?”
“The ultimate recycling program, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “It’s an interesting thought, especially when you consider energy doesn’t die.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to start a philosophical conversation that is very unlikely to result in consensus. I just wanted you to know it’s helped me.”
“Did you ever go to therapy after he died?”
“No.”
“I think you should. It’ll help.”
“Would you consider going to church? Or synagogue? A temple?”
He laughed. “That’s a lot of choices.”
“All paths lead to one place, in my opinion. In fact, spirituality is not limited to a place. I felt it at the beach when we were walking. I felt it this morning when I was talking to you.”
“I felt it too, Sunshine. I’ll consider it. Would you consider therapy?”
I was surprised he was willing to compromise at all. I nodded, at a loss for the words to tell him how special he was—how amazing, perceptive, and kind. He looked so handsome in the linen shirt and khaki slacks I’d chosen. He had left a few buttons undone, and it was becoming my undoing. His hair was disheveled, making it even sexier, and his face had a bronze glow. I desperately needed to get away from him.
He stood and walked toward me. I thought he might kiss me, but he did something equally intimate. He clasped my wrist and took off my watch, staring at it before setting it on the dresser.
My throat went dry as he rubbed my wrist. “It’s broken from the water. I’ll get you a new one.”
“It’s just a cheap watch,” I said in a cracking voice I didn’t recognize.
He released my wrist, taking off his own watch. He set it next to mine. I stared at the odd pairing. They would never share the same shelf or even be sold at the same store. They were so different…like us.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, interrupting my internal conflict.
“I need to take a shower.”
He nodded, strolling over to the television, sucking in some breath. “Want to watch a movie after?” he asked, flipping through the channels on the flat screen. He was trying to sound flippant, but his voice was husky.
“Sure, you pick.”
“Jaws.”
“Very funny.”
I didn’t take cold showers, but a hot one wouldn’t be the right choice. When I came back into the room, he had a movie set up for us. I wore the ridiculous tourist shirt and shorts, but his lusty stare made me feel as if I were wearing scandalous lingerie.
The temperature in the room was comfortable, but it felt unbearably hot like there was a tangible quality to the air between us. He must have felt it as well, because he jerked his gaze away from me suddenly, announcing he needed a shower too.
I opened the balcony and breathed in the fresh ocean air. I could not let my emotions take over. This was wrong, I kept repeating to myself like a mantra. Why had I agreed to spend the night with the only man I was attracted to in the most romantic place in the world? Surely, I was a masochist and enjoyed tormenting myself. There was a knock at the door, interrupting my self-deprecation.
I opened the door to a room service guy. Ethan had ordered snacks for us. I scrounged around in my purse, but I had no cash on me.
His wallet sat on the dresser. It was damp, but each bill was in neat sequential order. I peeled off a bill, almost ripping it, and gave it to the room service attendant. Even though it was just popcorn and licorice, the hotel was so luxurious t
hey placed it all under a silver dome in fine crystal bowls. I headed back to Ethan’s wallet. All of his money was going to be a huge clumpy mess in the morning. I separated out the bills, placing them on the high wooden dresser so they would dry. That’s when I felt the small wrapped package in another compartment. This was definitely an invasion of privacy, but I took it out, reasoning whatever it was would also need to dry. I stared in shock at the square, gold-foiled package in my hand.
“Hey, whatcha doing?” Ethan asked, startling me. I felt an immediate heat with his presence, but I continued to focus my energy on the tightly wrapped package in my hand.
“I tipped the room service guy.”
“Okay.”
“I thought I’d lay your money out so it could dry. What’s this?” I held up the package.
I thought he might be mad or contrite, but he laughed instead. “It’s a condom.”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you asking?” His voice was authentically curious.
“Did you plan for us to end up like this? Was it contrived?”
Ethan’s face transformed as he considered my statement. First there was shock, then he looked hurt, but his eyes finally narrowed into irritation. “No.”
“Then why do you have this?”
“I always carry one in case of emergencies.”
“An emergency? Like your dick accidently falling into a girl’s vagina?” I asked haughtily.
He took a step forward, and I naturally took a step back until my back was against the wall. He stayed at arm’s length, but it still felt too close. I threw the condom on the dresser. It slid to the end, teetering near the edge.
“I’ve had it in my wallet for a year. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Are you telling me you haven’t had sex in a year?” I asked in disbelief.
“No, I’m telling you I haven’t had an emergency in a year. In case you forgot, it was your idea to spend the night here and to get the same room.”
I held up my hand to cut him off. “I know what you’re trying to say. You think I want this. That I’m leading you on like some kind of…cocktease.”
He shook his head, letting out a cynical laugh. “That’s not what I was thinking. Your acting like…like a—”
Variables of Love Page 11
