One Last Chance

by Shelby Gates

  “You didn’t bomb,” she said.

  “Best first date ever,” he said, nodding. “Ever. Nothing’s ever even come close.”

  She hesitated. “For me, too.”

  “And the kiss at your door?” He took a deep breath. “As good as the date was, the kiss blew it out of the water.”

  She nodded.

  He emptied his glass of wine, the alcohol infusing him with more courage. “And I was hooked, Claire. Like…hooked. I went home that night buzzing. Couldn’t wait to see you at school. Couldn’t wait to hold your hand. Couldn’t wait to touch you. You consumed me.”

  “Well, clearly I didn’t consume you that much,” she said.

  “How do you figure?”

  She didn’t say anything and Griffin continued. “What about that night at–?”

  Claire cut him off. “I remember.”

  Griffin remembered, too. The night at the beach had been seared into his memory. Hell, into his heart, into his soul.

  “OK, good.” He smiled at her. “I was going to offer details. You know, in case you’d forgotten.”

  Her face colored. “I remember,” she repeated.

  He poured another glass of wine. He sipped it as he watched her. She was looking down, her eyes focused on the fork twining a path through the bed of rice on her plate.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

  She looked up. Her eyes were moistened with the unmistakable sign of tears.

  “What?” he asked, alarmed.

  “If you liked me that much,” she said. “If I…consumed you, then why did you do it? Why did you break up with me?”

  He waited a long moment before he answered. “Because I was stupid.”

  NINETEEN

  Claire looked back at her plate. She knew if she raised her eyes again, the dam would burst. Her heart was already in her throat, her pulse already hammering like she’d just sprinted a mile.

  She hated that he could do this to her. It was like she’d walked through some magic portal that had transported her ten years into the past. She saw herself in her room, the phone clutched to her ear, listening to him say the words she never thought she’d hear from him. That they were done.

  “Stupid isn’t the right word, maybe,” he said, rubbing his jaw. “I mean, I was stupid. I’m not saying I wasn’t. But I was stupid about a lot of things. With you it was different.”

  He took a deep breath. He looked physically uncomfortable to her. Tension in his shoulders. Lines in his forehead. Eyes all over the place. Good. He deserved to be uncomfortable. Because she’d been a lot more than uncomfortable when he’d called that night ten years before.

  “I was scared,” he said.

  That was not what she was expecting to hear. “Scared?”

  He bit his lip and nodded. “I know that sounds dumb and maybe you won’t believe me. But I was scared.”

  She’d always believed every word he said, but she kept her mouth closed. She wanted to hear what he had to say. It had haunted her for ten years, maybe in a bigger way than it should’ve, but it was what it was. And now was the moment of truth.

  “I knew the night we kissed,” he said. “And I knew the night at the beach. The way I felt about you? Way different than I’d ever felt about anyone else. Like apples and car batteries. I had nothing to compare it to.”

  She could feel herself being pulled in by his words. She didn’t want to be, but the syllables were like gravity.

  “And all I could think was that you were going to dump me,” he said, grimacing. “That I wasn’t like the other guys that you dated, that I wouldn’t measure up, that I was just filler.”

  “Filler for what?” she asked, incredulous. “Jesus, Griffin. You were popular. Girls liked you. You were an athlete. Everyone liked you.”

  “But I didn’t know if you did,” he said, staring at her. “I didn’t know. I thought maybe you were being nice to me, just said yes because I asked. A fling, whatever. I felt way out of my league.”

  She shook her head. She just didn’t see how he could’ve thought that. If anyone felt that way, it was her. She’d watched him date other girls and figured he’d only seen her as a friend and was just stunned when he finally asked her out.

  “And I just got it in my head that you were going to crush me,” he said. “That you were going to break my heart. And I’d never been in that spot before. I panicked.” He shrugged. “I wish I had a better explanation, but I panicked. I didn’t want to be hurt and I knew hearing you telling me goodbye would hurt.”

  “Probably like it did for me to hear it,” she said.

  His shoulders stiffened. “Yeah. Probably.”

  She hadn’t said it to be mean or to punish him. But she remembered how much it hurt. A punch and a kick all wrapped up in one. The feeling had never left her. He had never left her.

  “So I chickened out,” Griffin said. “I just figured I’d get it over with before you had a chance to do it to me. Typical high-school male bullshit. Everything I didn’t want to be. I felt sick on the phone with you. Felt sick after. Felt sick the night of the Prom.” He exhaled. “It’s never left me, Claire. It’s always stayed with me. I’d give anything to go back in time and do it over again. Because seeing you here the last couple of days? Spending time with you?” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Man, I am right back where I used to be. How I felt about you. And the crazy thing? I knew it would be like this.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s why I signed up for this stupid thing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He leaned across the table. “The only reason I’m here is you. You think I care about those other morons? I waited so long to commit to coming on this thing because I wanted to make sure you were going to be here.” His eyes softened. “I’m here for you.”

  Claire’s heart pounded against her chest and her head felt light. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. For ten years, she’d wondered what had happened. What she’d done wrong. What she’d done to send him running. And he was telling her it wasn’t her at all.

  He stood from the chair, came around the small table and knelt down next to her chair. He took her hand. “I’m sorry, Claire.”

  She stared down at her, her heart ready to explode.

  “I’m sorry for being so stupid,” he said. “I’m sorry for just running. And I’m sorry it’s taken me ten years to say it. But I am so sorry. It is, by far, the biggest mistake I’ve ever made.”

  His hand squeezed hers. She remembered that. Whenever he was excited or he really meant something, he’d squeeze her hand, just to let her know. She loved it, like some sort of secret message shared just between the two of them.

  “And I know that doesn’t fix anything,” he continued. “I know that. But I’ve needed to say it for ten years. I’m sorry. And it’s okay if you’re still angry with me. I understand, but…”

  She slid off the chair and pushed him to the ground. Her mouth found his and she swallowed his words.

  She pressed her hands into his chest and felt his arms snake around her torso. He could still kiss, that was for sure. Those same lightning bolts that throttled her body ten years before struck her again and she kissed him harder. How had she gone so long without him, without this?

  She kissed him for another minute, reveling in the way he tasted, the way he felt. His lips were soft, his mouth insistent, his tongue firm but gentle as it traced her bottom lip. She couldn’t catch her breath, couldn’t breathe. She pulled away and rested her head on his chest, her own chest heaving. She stayed next to him, listening to him do the same. It seemed perfect.

  But there was still one thing missing.

  Why hadn’t he mentioned the fiancée? What had happened there? And if he’d really been thinking about her all those years, why did he get engaged?

  Maybe that was unfair. She’d thought about him for ten years, but she’d actually gotten married. And divorced.

  But it had just happened. Why hadn’t he
said anything?

  Her gut rolled. No. She was not going to get caught up in this again. In him again. If he hurt her again, she’d be damaged goods forever. She couldn’t let him do that to her.

  She pushed herself into a sitting position. “I don’t think I can do this.”

  He sat up, too, his eyes bright, his cheeks flushed. “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

  “No,” she said. “It’s not you. I mean…”

  “You don’t have to explain,” he said, his words coming out in a rush as he got to his feet. “It’s okay. Really. I’m sorry.”

  “Griffin, I…”

  “I’ll see you later,” he said.

  He was gone before she could say anything else.

  TWENTY

  Griffin stood outside the door and took a deep breath.

  What the hell just happened?

  One moment he’d been giving her the apology he’d wanted to give her for a decade, the next they were on the floor, kissing like they had ten years before and then she was telling him to stop.

  He ran a hand through his hair. She’d kissed him. Again. Just like at the beach. Surprised the hell out of him. He hadn’t meant for the apology to lead to that, but he sure wasn’t disappointed. It was exactly like he remembered. No, that wasn’t right.

  It was better.

  But she’d kissed him. He hadn’t forced himself on her.

  Maybe he had, though.

  An older couple passed him in the hall, nodding at him.

  Maybe she wasn’t ready for all that, for him to just throw himself at her and apologize. Maybe she felt obligated to accept his apology. That wasn’t what he wanted at all. Yes, he wanted her to know he was sorry. But he also wanted her to know that he meant it.

  He let out a loud, frustrated sigh. Doubt settled into his gut. Maybe the things he’d felt all those years ago, maybe they weren’t what she’d felt. Maybe she was just simply pissed that he dumped her right before the prom. Maybe it hadn’t made the same kind of imprint on her that it had on him.

  He rubbed his forehead. He’d come on this cruise for her, though. He’d waited ten years for this. Made a lot of dumb decisions and mistakes, all tied to a single phone call he’d made to Claire, breaking up with her when they were teenagers. So maybe she didn’t feel the same way. But he needed to get it all off his chest, to see where he stood, if he even had a chance with her.

  And if she didn’t?

  Well, that would suck. Big time. But he’d never know until he heard the words from her. It would sting, but at least he’d know. He wouldn’t have to wonder anymore. And, at least then, he could move on with his life instead of living in neutral, like he’d done for a decade.

  He needed to know.

  But she made it clear she didn’t want him in the room right then. He couldn’t turn around and go back in. He needed to get out of her hair and give her some room to breathe.

  He’d waited ten years to apologize. He could wait a few more hours to see how she really felt about him. He owed her whatever she wanted and if it was space, then so be it.

  As he walked, though, he worried. The cruise was coming to an end soon. Only one more night. He wanted more time with her. Once they docked, if she didn’t want to be around him, she wouldn’t have to be. She could go her own way and leave him behind.

  The thought made him nearly sick to his stomach, but again, he had no one to blame but himself. He could say to her what he wanted to say and whatever she did with it was her choice. He couldn’t force her hand. He’d just have to live with it, even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

  He wandered out onto the deck and breathed in the salty air. Thin clouds stretched across the inky sky, the bright beacon of the moon slightly obscured. Couples surrounded him, holding hands and wrapped in embraces against the railing. He felt like an oddball, like he was the only single person out walking. He knew that was an exaggeration, but being without her after spending time with her, well, that was exactly how he felt.

  He found his way into one of the lounges and claimed a spot at the end of the bar, waving at the bartender for a beer. He stared absently at the flat screen mounted above the liquor-filled shelves that lined the back wall.

  “I didn’t expect to see you here,” a female voice said next to him.

  He suppressed a groan. “Hey, Em.”

  She rested her hand on his arm. “How’s your face?”

  “Fine.”

  “Dylan’s isn’t.” She slid in next to him.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not. He was a jerk.”

  “Still.”

  The bartender appeared and Emily ordered something with vodka. He was grateful that, this time, she didn’t ask him to buy it for her.

  “Where’s Claire?” she asked when the drink arrived.

  “Her room.”

  “I thought it was your room.”

  “Right. The room.”

  “And you aren’t there because…”

  He glanced at her. “Because I’m sitting here.”

  She looked down at her drink. “Right.”

  He was being an asshole. It wasn’t Emily’s fault and he didn’t need to take it out on her. “Sorry, Emily. I’m just in a bad mood.”

  “Something happen? With Claire?”

  He turned on the bar stool. The lounge was close to full, all of the tables occupied, a few people dancing to the music the DJ was spinning on the far side of the room. It was the last place in the world he wanted to be.

  “Just grumpy,” he said, sipping from the beer.

  She nodded, stirring the small straw in her glass.

  “Where’s Dylan?”

  She made a face. “No clue. Probably getting drunker and making plans for revenge against you.”

  Griffin laughed. “Should I be worried?”

  Emily laughed and then shook her head. “No. You’d probably smell him coming from a mile away. Rum. He likes rum.”

  Griffin nodded. “Good to know.”

  She polished off the drink and raised the empty glass at the bartender. “So. This thing with you and Claire…”

  “There’s no thing.”

  The bartender slid another drink in front of her and she started stirring again. “No? Kinda feels like there is.”

  He shook his head because he wasn’t sure what to say about him and Claire.

  Emily smoothed her hair. “Okay. There’s no thing.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. He wanted there to be a thing.

  “So, I’m going to try and do this a little better than before,” Emily said. She produced a key card and laid it on the bar next to his elbow. “Cruise is almost over. I don’t really want to waste anymore time.” She nodded at the card. “That’s to my room. I’m going to finish my drink.” She tipped the glass back and emptied it. “And now I’m going back to my room. I’d really like it if you’d join me.” She stood and leaned into his ear. “You will not be disappointed. I promise.”

  Griffin watched her walk through the crowded lounge. More than a few heads followed her as she made her way though the door.

  He sat there for a long time, thinking.

  Finally, he motioned for the bartender and signaled for the check. She brought it over and he signed the slip, closing the leather wallet it was in.

  He picked up Emily’s key card and studied it for a moment, turning it over in his hands. He laid it on the wallet.

  “Think she forgot this.” he said to the bartender. “Can you see that it gets back to her?”

  TWENTY-ONE

  Tap-tap-tap.

  Claire squeezed her eyes tighter.

  Tap-tap-tap.

  The sound wasn’t in her head. She opened her eyes, rotated her head on the pillow and looked for the tapping.

  Griffin was sitting on his bed in shorts and a T-shirt, typing away on his laptop.

  She tucked her hands between her cheek and her pillow. “You’re here.”

  He nodded, his eyes still on the scr
een. “I am. Good morning.”

  She’d waited up for several hours, thinking he was going to come back. When he hadn’t, she’d gone looking for him with no luck. She’d gone back to the room, hoping he was there and that she’d just missed him. But he wasn’t and she finally changed into a tank top and shorts and crawled into bed, racked with guilt that he’d left her alone in his room.

  “Good morning,” she mumbled. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay. How are you?”

  “Fine. Are you working?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Deadline in three days. Might actually be early for once.”

  She pushed herself off the pillow to a sitting position. “That would be nice.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, it would.”

  She ran her hands through her hair, wondering how Medusa-like she looked after rolling around on the pillow all night.

  “You sleep okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, okay, I guess,” she said, slightly unnerved that he wouldn’t look up from the computer. “What time did you come back?”

  He glanced at the silver watch on his wrist. “I’m honestly not sure.”