by Mariah Dietz
“He’s divorced, has two kids.”
Coop blows out a breath. “Look, this is only my two cents, you have to do whatever is going to allow you to sleep at night, but this guy is stealing a ton of money from you. If you need to, check to make sure his kid isn’t sick or his mom or whatever, but remember, ten million.” He shakes his head again. “Did he ask for more money? Did he come to you and ask for a favor? Tell you he needed the money for anything?”
I shake my head. “He’s a contractor, not an employee.”
“If he’d come to you and asked for the money and you turned him down, and he felt he had no other choice to keep someone in his family alive or safe, that would be a different conversation. If he’s spending this money on a mansion and cars and bullshit he doesn’t need, then I’d be pushing for a full sentence. My dad is serving twenty-five years for selling a few hundred bucks worth of weed.”
“It’s messed up.”
Coop shrugs. “It is, and yet, he was a lousy father, and all he cared about were his plants and money and getting high. I hate the prison system. I hate that he has to serve such a ridiculous amount of time in jail. I hate that I won’t know him at all by the time he’s out. And I really hate how prison has turned him into someone who I don’t even recognize and wouldn’t trust around Vanessa. But, in that same vein, sometimes I feel lucky that they took me out of that situation and placed me with my grandma because while she was probably too tired to raise another kid, I finally had some semblance of structure. I didn’t have to be a parent myself at ten to my lowlife father who nearly burnt our house down on more than one occasion and couldn’t hold a job to save his life—save my life. It just seems unfair that his life had to be ruined for mine to be saved. But that’s not the situation here. You’re not doing this to him; he is. Just like my father did it to himself. This guy knows what he’s doing is illegal, and you can’t tell me anyone assumes they can steal that kind of money without facing serious consequences.”
“That poker game I brought Chloe to, he was there. Blew twenty grand in an afternoon.”
Cooper winces. “Way to rub it in your face.”
From our table, I catch Chloe passing through the gift shop, laughing at something.
“Are you ready to return to reality and get to double practices and classes?” Coop asks.
I shake my head in small jerks. “Not even remotely. I feel like I blinked and we’re here.”
“You’ve been working a lot.”
“We could do this again,” I tell him. “Stay longer at different hotels so we could have more time to hang out in different cities. We could consider it research for how we can improve things for guests. We could spend all of next summer traveling.”
“I’d be game, but you might have your work cut out for you with Chloe. Change is hard for her, which is why you see her start sweating each time Vanessa talks about where she wants to move after school. Not going home for the summer would be a big change for her.”
“What if I throw in the Eiffel Tower and Rome?”
“Tell me you want us to go, and I’ll start laying hints now.”
I laugh, imagining the four of us abroad and then flipping to this year and spending time all together and alone with Chloe—having her in my bed, wandering through downtown Seattle to find coffee, having her in the stands with my number painted on her cheek, listening to her tell me about the laws of physics and how they apply with her major. “Vanessa’s right. This is going to be a good year.”
Coop nods, but before he can say anything, our food arrives at the table. I turn to look for Chloe and see her checking out, Vanessa at her side. She must feel my stare because she turns, looking at me as she waits for them to bag her purchase. She smiles, her fingers folding in a small wave.
We order a round of soft drinks to replace the water as the girls return.
“You didn’t buy bread to bring back, did you?” Cooper asks, eyeing Chloe’s bag.
She frowns at him as Vanessa starts to laugh. “I considered it, but I told Nessie if I did, you’d give me the hardest time, so no, I didn’t buy any bread.”
He laughs, turning to me. “She used to always buy food when we’d go to new places and then wouldn’t want to eat it because her souvenir went away.”
“Oh, watch me eat all the doughnuts tonight,” Chloe says, taking her seat beside me.
I move my hand across the plane of her back, my fingers catching in her hair that I slip my fingers through as I laugh. Those mesmerizing green eyes meet my stare, and I realize how this consideration regarding Avery may not have given me much debate without her. Admitting my feelings for her has seemingly destroyed my ability to not give a fuck. She leans forward, kissing me gently on the lips before pulling back, eyes still on me, as though she hears my thoughts and is trying to settle me from how overwhelming my emotions feel around her—about her.
“You guys might as well just roll me down the pier,” Vanessa says as we step out of the cafe, her hands clutching her stomach. “That was so good. So worth it.”
Coop slings his arm around her shoulders, following the train of people that are headed down to Pier 39.
We pass by more shops, the homeless population drawing Chloe’s attention. On the corners, street performers attract a crowd.
“This breaks my heart,” Chloe says as we pass a woman asleep on a piece of broken-down cardboard. “It seems like we should be able to do something to help these people and help prevent it for others.”
I kiss her temple, feeling the hopelessness that shines in her eyes and slumps her shoulders. “You’re right.”
“Guys! Come on!” Vanessa yells, already halfway through the crosswalk as cars inch closer. We run to catch up, seeing the ocean in the background. Music plays softly through speakers, bringing the mood up as we approach the mouth of the pier.
“This is so much bigger than I expected,” Chloe tells me, her gaze traveling over the two-story buildings that lead us down the pier, everything glowing with lights as tourists file around in groups.
“I’ve heard you say that before,” I say, squeezing her shoulder.
She slaps a hand to her forehead and laughs before wrapping her arms around my waist. “Thank you,” she says. “This has seriously been the best week ever.”
I slant my lips over hers, forgetting about Cooper’s warning that she doesn’t like change. We’re all afraid of change. Sometimes we just need the right motivation. I’m well aware of this as my lips dance across hers.
26
Chloe
My fingers and lips are still sticky from the bucket of doughnuts we demolished as we window shopped and watched a magic show where a stage and benches are permanently set up near the end of the pier.
Tyler and Cooper each throw in a few bills as they pass around a hat, and then Tyler jerks his chin toward the end of the pier. “We might not be able to see them, but let’s take a look.”
“See what?” I ask.
He smiles mischievously in response, two of his fingers in my back pocket as we reach a set of stairs with a giant red heart in the middle that leads to an area that looks out over the bay.
The wind off the water is chillier without the warmth of the sun, but I can’t bring myself to complain because this moment is so perfect, and the clear skies above only promise better viewing for the meteor shower tomorrow that has me glancing skyward. “Look,” I tell them as light streaks above us. “It’s the meteor shower.”
“I thought it was tomorrow?” Tyler asks, glancing at the sky.
I shiver from the breeze coming off the water and move closer to him. “No, you can actually see it for five weeks. Tomorrow’s just the best day when we’ll be in the thick of it, but we’re currently passing through the comet’s orbit, so the meteors are coming into our atmosphere.”
“Coming into our atmosphere?” Ty asks, his eyebrows knit like I’ve just told him a line from an alien takeover movie. “Does that mean they might hit Earth?”
/> I shrug, trying to recall all the data about comets and meteors. “Meteors generally disintegrate before they reach Earth. Most of them are only a few millimeters in diameter—dust essentially. But, once in a while, there will be a large enough meteor that it will make it to our surface, and then it becomes a meteorite.”
“Weird to think we’re watching specks of rock that are on fire and admiring them, right?” Vanessa asks.
“They’re on fire? Is that why they glow?” Ty stares at the sky.
I glance at him, wanting to kiss him again because each time he asks a question and invests his time and interest in this part of my life and other interests of mine, I can feel another piece of my heart get lost to him.
“Is that a stupid question? Do all kids learn this in like, third grade, and I didn’t pay attention?”
Vanessa shakes her head. “I just live with her and have sat through this conversation a hundred times.”
I laugh, shaking my head as I try to shuffle my thoughts back to his question. “It’s kind of complicated. I don’t study meteors, so I can’t give you the full explanation, but basically, the rocks hit our two outer regions: the exosphere and the thermosphere where there’s no air, and the meteors are rocketing to Earth—like twenty-five-thousand to one-hundred-and-sixty-thousand miles per hour—but then they hit the middle layer of our atmosphere: the mesosphere, and the gasses cause friction, which heats the meteors, so they mostly burn off in the mesosphere, and that friction and their speed create the falling star.”
“Mesosphere? Is that the layer we live on?” he asks.
“No, we live in the troposphere,” I tell him.
“But none of this has anything to do with what you’re studying?”
“Not really. All of this involves the Milky Way Galaxy. But, it’s still very complex and involves multiple areas of study. During meteor showers, astronomers measure objects in the Kuiper belt, which extends into our outer solar system, because we believe some comets, like this one, might have been created in an outer solar system and then got kicked into our solar system, so lots of planetary science is involved. That’s one of the coolest things about astronomy, so often it requires teams of people from all over the globe to all have the same goals and objectives to witness and capture images and facts. Much of it is interconnected.”
“How does this meteor shower happen every single year?” Cooper asks, staring up at the darkened sky.
“This one, Perseids, is caused by Earth passing through the orbit of a comet called Swift-Tuttle, which is a giant comet that is constantly losing gas and dust particles, and that’s what we’re seeing.”
“But we don’t see the comet?” Nessie asks.
“Every hundred and thirty-three years, you can see it from Earth.”
Coop blows out a low whistle. “That’s crazy how cool dust looks in space.”
I grin. “Right?”
We watch for several minutes as meteors streak across the sky, and then I hear a sound that draws my attention to the left where a crowd is gathered at the railing. “What is that?” I ask.
A smile flashes across Tyler’s face. “Want to have a look?”
I’m already five steps forward before I nod, making him laugh.
“Sea lions!” Nessie cries. The water is dark, but the many lights hung along the pier allow us to see their dark outlines, so they’re difficult to see but not impossible.
“If you all come back this way tomorrow, make sure to stop here. You can see them so much better during the day, and there’s usually someone here who’s talking about them and sharing information. You would enjoy it,” he says, looking at me with another intense gaze that feels immense and heavy. Our relationship is so new and yet feels old at the same time. I used to avoid the fact I knew so much about him, and now I wish to know it all.
“Come on. We have to ride that carousel,” Nessie says, turning to retrace our steps.
I grin as Cooper follows with an objection that Nessie ignores.
“Hang on,” Ty says, catching my hand. He digs in his pocket for his phone.
“What are you doing?”
His fingers release mine, and he quickly types something out in an email. “Canceling my meetings for tomorrow.”
“Can you do that?”
He slides his phone back into his pocket. “I just did.”
“Are you sure?” I hate that my hopes feel so inflated and that this seems so momentous.
“I want to see San Francisco with you. I want to show you the bridge and take you out for ice cream.”
I feel a bit guilty for feeling so excited by this. After all, Cooper and Nessie have been troopers, willing to go to so many different museums and tourist sites with me, but the idea of seeing San Francisco with Tyler makes my heart feel like it’s in my throat.
“This hotel has no problems, and half the questions and concerns are going to be addressed as construction begins, so it’s mostly a moot point. We can go see the bridge and Lombard Street, and the Coit Tower, and Chinatown…”
I kiss him, silencing the plans he lists that have my chest feeling light with excitement. His lips are soft and gentle, frustrating me because I feel like every second I’m around him, I lose a little more of my composure and control, and right now, he feels like the definition of control. I don’t care about the crowds or that Nessie and Cooper are nearby as I move closer to him, feeling too much air, too much space, too much composure, and far too much desire culminating like a black hole making it impossible for me to escape any of it. I close the space and kiss him deeper, my hands tightening around his neck.
Tyler growls into my mouth as I trace his tongue with mine, and dig my hands into his hair as I press my breasts against his chest. The more of him I feel, the more desperate I become.
He matches me swipe for swipe, nip for nip, one hand buried in my hair at the back of my neck, and the other pulling me closer as I feel his control begin to break. He uses the last thread of strength to pull away, his forehead pressed against mine as his chest heaves while he maintains his close hold on me.
“Carousel and then hotel,” I tell him.
He kisses me and then nods.
I kiss him a final time and take a step back, wrapping my hand in his and leading him back to where Nessie and Coop are in line for the two-story carousel that is lit and playing a friendly tune.
Somehow, everything feels better. The breeze, each laugh, every breath—are all more significant as we climb onto the carousel that feels like pages out of a picture book. We spin in slow circles, looking out across the pier and the crowds of people and the bay, and with each full rotation, my gaze comes back to Tyler.
On our way back to the hotel, our steps are rushed, forcing us to stop for Nessie and Cooper so they can catch up with us on multiple occasions as our eyes continue to linger on each other, silently undressing the other one as our thoughts and desires wander, quickly becoming increasingly difficult to rein in.
The elevator ride to the suite feels like torture as I breathe him in, imagining the feel of his hands on me—in me.
“Since Ty is off tomorrow and I don’t think there’s a chance in hell Cooper is going to agree to see the bridge again, do we need to have anything but our IDs to get into the event tomorrow if we separate?” Vanessa asks, breaking my focus.
I blink through my lust and nod. “I have tickets. I don’t know if they’re required, but they sent them to me. I have them in here…” I grab the thin stack of tickets in the front pocket of my purse and pull them out as we step into the suite. As I do, a card floats to the ground. Tyler bends to grab it, his brows furrowing as he turns it over.
“Avery? Why do you have his card?”
My heart beats to a different, quicker pace at the recollection. “It’s nothing.”
He pulls his chin back, accusation darkening his eyes as he flips it along his fingers like a magic trick. “You just happen to have his private mobile phone number?” He flips the card around to
show me the number handwritten on the back.
“You’re making this sound like something when it’s nothing. Believe me, it’s less than nothing. He put it in there, and I meant to throw it away.”
He leans back, all confidence and swagger, and as far from being the Tyler I’ve begun to know since this trip began. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“I could tell you guys had some history or issue or whatever, and I didn’t want to make it worse. And I knew this was his attempt to make it worse.”
His eyebrows jump, his eyes rounding with disbelief. “So, it’s nothing, but you decided to keep it?”
“I didn’t keep it. I forgot it was there. I don’t want it. Throw it away.”
He rips it in half and in half again, dropping the shredded pieces to the floor. “Why’d he give you his number? What did he want you to get from me?”
Confusion furrows my brow. “From you?”
Tyler grabs an empty tumbler glass that held the whiskey he and Coop had been drinking while we’d waited on the patio for our bags to be unpacked and throws it at the wall. It shatters and rains across the dark hardwood. “He’s stolen ten-fucking-million dollars from me. Tell me what the fuck he wanted.”
“What the fuck, dude?” Cooper steps forward.
I raise a hand to stop him.
Cooper’s eyes are wide with warning. “You need to chill,” Coop warns.
Tyler doesn’t even give him the courtesy of a glance. His eyes remain glued to mine.
“Mind games,” I tell him. “He was trying to play a mind game.”
“I swear to God, if you helped him…”
I pull my chin back like he’s just slapped me because in many ways, he has. “Are you kidding me? You think he wanted my help stealing from you? You think I’ve been in on this for however many months—years—it’s been that he’s been doing this?” I let my questions settle for only a second before I slap him with the truth. “He accused me of being a prostitute. He assumed you hired me, and he wanted my services. And I kind of wanted to punch him in the face because my tolerance for assholes who treat me like an object is already in the negative thanks to another asshole who tried to force himself on me, but I didn’t because I could tell you two were both competing to be the alpha. I assumed it was a head game for you, but considering you hired a hooker to make out with you, who knows? Maybe he was right to assume I was a whore.”
