by Mindy Hayes
“What way do you mean?”
Brodee silently sighs. “You and I barely getting any time together as just us. We’ve been hanging out with Harper and Skylar, our family, and the other Hatteras gang. You’ve also been spending a lot of time with Tyler. In August, we’re going in different directions, and who knows when we’ll get another chance to do this again. If ever. Our lives will be so unpredictable. Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Of course it does,” I scoff. How could he not know that? I’ve been trying so hard to get ready for what life will be like without him. I wanted Brodee to notice me this summer, but now, more than anything, I want to be able to see myself without him, knowing I can survive without him. And I think I can. But each time it hits me that I won’t get to see him every day, I feel like I can’t breathe. It hurts to breathe. I don’t want to think of life without him. But that’s reality. Hatteras is a dream.
“You don’t act like it,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his front pockets.
I stop on the shore, trying to figure him out, trying to understand where this is coming from. “You don’t think I think about the future and you not being in it with me? Brodee. Do you know me at all?”
He stops when he realizes I have and faces me a few feet away.
How do I put this into words that won’t make me sound like I’m crazy in love with him? Because I’m not. I can’t be.
Am I?
“I’ve been trying so hard to detach myself from you, to move forward so that I’m prepared for when we won’t see each other every day. We’ve hardly had a day apart in the last eighteen years. I think about you at Duke and me at USC, and it makes me wish that my grades were good enough, that my mom could afford a school like that just so I could go with you. I don’t want to go a day without you.”
Brodee’s mouth slowly opens, perplexed. I failed. My heart is painted across the sand between us in streaks of red, trailing from my chest. He’s attempting to figure out the underlying meaning, wondering if there is any. There is. I’m hoping I can play it off as a best friend missing a best friend, but he knows me better than anyone else. He’ll call my bluff.
“You’re my best friend, Peyton,” he utters.
“I know.” He doesn’t have to remind me or rub it in to make it clear. I know that’s all we are. “And you’re mine.”
“I just—” he motions between us. “I don’t want to mess this up.”
“It’s just different colleges, Brodee. I remind myself of that all the time. We can still see each other on weekends and holidays, between semesters. We’re not going to colleges across the United States. We’re only a few hours away from each other.”
“That’s not what—” he pauses and shakes his head. He mumbles something that I can’t hear and looks out to the ocean.
“What’s not what?”
“Nothing.”
“Stop doing that. Say what you want to say,” I demand, taking a step toward him. “I’m tired of us not saying what’s on our minds. We’ve always been honest with each other, but I feel like we’ve been anything but this summer.”
“I was going to say that’s not what I meant. I thought you—”
When he doesn’t continue, I wait. I’m not going to try and interpret what he means. He needs to explain himself. I’m not a mind reader. I can only hope he means what I want him to mean. This is now a stand off. Whoever speaks next loses or wins; however you want to look at it. So, I wait and hold his gaze.
“Say it,” I finally plea.
“Peyton.” He says my name breathlessly, questioning. I want him to just know. Or forget what I said. Whatever way will make this situation less awkward. His pause extends. I hold my breath.
He takes two long strides until we’re only inches apart. He hesitates for a second. When I don’t step back, he takes my face in his hands. There’s the briefest hesitation and then he kisses me. I gasp into his mouth and he deepens the kiss, infiltrating my mouth, infiltrating me. I am a city under attack, and my defenses have failed. He wins.
I wanted him to win so badly.
Instinctively, I drop my sandals, and my arms wrap around his neck, tugging him closer, as close as he can get. And it’s still not enough.
Truth or dare comes rushing back to me, but this kiss is so different. He’s not learning my lips. He owns them, like they were never mine. I suppose they never were. My lips were made to kiss his. Be his. How could I not know that? It’s always been him.
“I’m still here,” he says against my lips. “Don’t leave me while I’m still here.”
My breathing is unsteady. My heart is racing. My mind is jumbled. I blink up at him, waiting for clarification. What just happened?
“You just kissed me,” I whisper. My arms are still laced around his neck, holding him in place. “You weren’t dared to.”
He releases a throaty chuckle and shakes his head. “And you kissed me back.”
As if my mouth doesn’t know how to function without his anymore, I press it back against his. I no longer want to remember what it was like to not kiss Brodee Fisher.
“What took you so long?” I utter between kisses. What took me so long?
“I didn’t know. I figured it out too late. I’m an idiot.” He pulls back and brushes the back of his hand against my cheek. “I didn’t want to lose you.”
I bite my lip to keep from grinning like a fool. “You’re my best friend. Losing me isn’t an option.”
“Why didn’t you say something?”
“Probably the same reason you didn’t,” I say. “Our friendship means everything to me. I didn’t want things to be different or ruin us. But this summer, something changed. I think we both felt it the moment we kissed at Rylie’s.”
“Yeah.” He nods. I’m so glad I’m not alone in this. My heart sings. His eyes travel around my face, taking everything in. “Things will definitely change. They’re going to be better.”
So many questions swirl inside my head. We’re in uncharted territory. How long has he felt this way? Where do we go from here? “How are we going to make this work?” I ask.
That question scares me more than anything. “Let’s not worry about that right now.”
“We’ve got the rest of the summer,” I agree. “That’s what matters.”
“Tyler gets USC,” Brodee mutters.
“You get Hatteras.”
Brodee knows.
Hatteras is everything.
HARPER SQUEALS IN my ear.
I could hardly sleep last night, thinking about what happened, so when a phone call from Harper is what wakes me up—a first—she knows something is going on.
“Shhh…you’re screaming in my ear.” I chuckle.
“Peyton-Parker, it’s eleven o’clock. You should not be this tired.”
“What?” I sit straight up and look at the alarm clock on the nightstand. 11:03 AM. I can’t remember the last time I slept in that late. Maybe never.
“Obviously, you were having some nice dreams.” I can imagine her suggestive eyebrow wiggle. “I wouldn’t want to wake up either.”
I groan. “You cannot make a big deal out of this, Harp. I don’t want Brodee to regret it. Oh gosh. What if he regrets it? What if he woke up this morning and second-guessed the kiss?”
“Chill out. I’m sure he’s downstairs waiting for you. He’s already talked to Skylar this morning. Why do you think I called you?”
“He did? What did Brodee tell him? Was he acting weird? Did he say he regretted it? What does Skylar know?”
Harper laughs at me. I can hear myself. This isn’t me. Take a chill pill, Peyton. I take a deep breath. Then bolt out of bed to throw on some clothes and brush my teeth.
Harper continues her amusement. “I’ve never heard you like this before. I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Flustered.”
I roll my eyes. “He could tell me he regrets it. If he does, I have to keep my cool. This cannot ruin us, okay? You have to
help me. Help me be rational, Harp.”
“Oh em gee, Peyton. You need to calm down.” Harper chuckles. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Yes. Yes, it will,” I attempt to reassure myself. My nerves are haywire. It’s not working.
“What are you going to do about Tyler?” she asks, and the whole situation comes into view like a panoramic picture.
That nauseating, sinking feeling sets in my stomach. I hate hurting people. I especially hate hurting people who don’t deserve it.
“I need to talk to him. Brodee and I don’t know where this will go, but I can’t be with Tyler.”
“Obviously,” she says dryly. “You and Brodee didn’t talk about it last night?”
“There wasn’t much talking going on last night.”
“I bet there wasn’t.” Her innuendo makes me sigh.
I pause and reconsider my phrasing. “We’re not talking about the future.”
“Living in the now.”
“I can’t think past that.”
“Well, maybe you should slap on some mascara and chapstick and head downstairs to face your Now.”
I take a deep breath. “Right. I’ll call you later.”
“You better!”
I begin to jog down the stairs, but I don’t want to appear too eager, so I take a deep breath and slow my pace. By the time I reach the last step I feel like I’m moving in slow motion. Brodee is sitting on the couch, feet propped up on the ottoman, flipping through the channels.
When he sees me, his feet immediately meet the floor and he sits forward on the edge of the couch, setting the remote beside him. He slowly stands, not taking his eyes off me. I can’t read him yet. This could go either way. He’s not smiling, but neither am I. First, I want to know last night meant the same to him as it did to me.
When it’s quiet for too long I cave. “Hey.”
“Hi.” There’s his heart-stopping smile. I take a breath, but I don’t move. I want him to say more. Gosh, I don’t want this to be awkward.
“I was wondering when you’d wake up,” he says. “I almost came up.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“I don’t know.”
Silence. We stand. We stare. We don’t move.
“Screw it,” he says under his breath and strides toward me. His arms are around my waist, and his mouth is on mine in seconds. My smile can’t be stifled. He kisses my teeth.
Brodee laughs. “Sorry. I didn’t want to wait any longer.”
“You made a good decision.” I bite my lip to stop my silly grin.
“It feels so good to finally be able to do that.”
“Yeah?” The smile can’t be suppressed any longer. “How long? Before truth or dare?”
“Oh yeah.”
“Really?” The flutters are rampant in my stomach. “Are we talking weeks? Months? Days?”
“Years. Two or three give or take.”
My eyes grow wide.
His throaty chuckle sends my heart into overdrive. “I’m a guy, Pete. I’m dumb, not blind.” I laugh. “I didn’t want to ruin us for one kiss. It just took me too long to realize it was more than just a kiss I wanted.” I press my lips to his again and dive my fingers into his hair.
“Finally.”
Brodee and I jump apart. Carter walks from the stairs toward the back doors with a cheeky smirk. “I can’t believe it took you guys this long.” And then he’s out the sliding glass door, closing it behind him.
We laugh. My face is hot. I cover my cheeks, wishing my hands were ice packs.
“Guess the secret’s out,” Brodee says.
“Where are our parents?” Suddenly, I’m mindful of our out-in-the-open affection and look around downstairs like they’re hiding, spying on us.
“On the beach,” he says, tugging me back to him and kissing me. I don’t want him to stop, but…
I pull away just enough so that our lips don’t touch. “Before we do anything more, I really need to talk to Tyler.”
He groans his consent. “This is going to be awkward, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” I reply. “And we’ll never hear the end of it from Rylie.”
“Screw her. I don’t even care anymore. She can think whatever she wants. We didn’t do anything wrong.”
I agree. “Tyler’s working right now, and I don’t want to do this over the phone, so we just need to slow it down a bit until I talk to him.”
Brodee doesn’t look too happy about that, but he gets it. We unhurriedly break apart. We have years to make up for and only a little over a month to do it.
I wait for guilt to set in, but it doesn’t. Not in the way it probably should. I don’t feel bad about kissing Brodee. I feel bad about giving Tyler hope for a future, for pursuing something I wasn’t fully committed to. But I can’t, would never, take back this chance we have. Hopefully, Tyler and I can remain friends, but something tells me he won’t want to be.
MRS. HAMILTON ANSWERS the door. When she sees me, her face lights up. “Oh, hi Peyton. It’s so good to finally see you!”
“You too.” I smile, though uncomfortably.
Mrs. Hamilton is the epitome of class. Even though we’re at the beach, it looks like she just left the salon. Her light blonde hair rests effortlessly on top of her shoulders, flipping out at the ends. And her entire outfit is probably J. Crew or Lilly Pulitzer. She has better taste than I do. That’s for sure.
“Come, come.” She opens the door wider. “Tyler was just washing up. He should be down in a minute.”
“Okay.” I wring my hands and drop them to my sides to keep myself from fidgeting.
I don’t know why I’m so nervous. It’s not like we’re in some serious relationship. It’s not a legit break up. Just two people not kissing anymore. We’re not that close. Right? I’m lying to myself. It’s more than that. I know it. Tyler wants more. I wanted more.
I thought I wanted more.
I’ve never broken someone’s heart before. Not to say I think so much of myself that he’ll be heartbroken, but if I do, I’m well acquainted with what it feels like. I don’t want to be the heartbreaker.
“I just need to pop dinner in the oven.” Mrs. Hamilton says as she leads me into the kitchen. She grabs the big roasting pot on the island and pushes it into the oven behind her. “Tyler says you’ll be attending USC in the fall as well. That’s just wonderful. It’s such a fabulous school.”
“Yeah. I’m excited,” I lie.
“I know Tyler is very excited you’ll be there.” She looks knowingly at me. A twinkle in her pale blue eyes. Maybe it’s a hereditary gene. “You two will have so much fun together. I can’t wait to hear all about your adventures.”
I’m a horrible person.
And then I hear Tyler jogging down the stairs. Saved. When I turn, he’s striding toward me with a big grin on his face. Or not. My stomach drops, but I try to smile. I worry it looks more like a grimace. His arms loop around my waist as he picks me off my feet in a bear hug.
“Hey you.” He squeezes.
“Hi,” I say breathlessly because I’m literally having a difficult time getting air into my lungs.
“Your ears must have been burning,” Mrs. Hamilton says.
He puts me back down. “What was she saying about me? Don’t listen to a thing she says.” Tyler walks over and slings his arm around his mom’s shoulder. “She’s a liar.”
She smacks his chest and chuckles. “Oh stop.”
Seeing them stand side by side makes me realize where he got his height, and it definitely wasn’t his mom. He towers over her. Her petite frame barely comes to his chest.
“We were just talking about y’all going to USC,” she explains. “And what a wonderful time you two will have.”
Tyler nods, and his eyes trail to me. “Ah. Yes. We’ll have such a wonderful time.” He mimics her voice.
“Knock it off.” Mrs. Hamilton laughs and slaps his chest again.
I need to talk to him now. Like right now. “You wan
t to go for a walk?” I ask.
He kisses the top of her head. “We’ll be back, Ma.”
He takes my hand and tugs me toward the back door that leads to the beach.
“Peyton, you’re welcome to stay for dinner. We’d love to have you.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her no. Tyler can explain it all. “Okay. Thank you, Mrs. Hamilton.”
“Please. Call me Claire.”
I pause and clear my throat. “Thank you, Miss Claire.”
Once we’re on his deck, the door shut behind us, he asks, “Is everything okay? You seem off.” Tyler steps in front of me and loops his arms around my waist, tugging me against his body.
My hands press against his pecs to put some distance between us, but I drop them instantly when I realize how intimate that feels. “Umm…” I say to his chest because I can’t meet his eyes yet.
“That doesn’t sound good.” He loosens his hold and drops his arms to his sides.
It’s almost worse that he knows it’s coming. “I know. I’m sorry,” I mumble. “You know these last few summers have meant so much to me. We’ve had a lot of good times. Umm…but I think we need to put the brakes on this now.” Put the brakes on? You mean slam the dang brakes and never take the foot off.
My eyes lift up and up to meet his. I was right. Looking at him makes this so much harder. The hurt hidden there is more than I was expecting. Why can’t this be easy?
“Oh.” Tyler blinks and he runs his fingers through his hair, taking a step back. “Okay.” His shoulders sag in defeat. “Right…” he breathes.
Tyler is perfect. Just not perfect for me. But that doesn’t mean I’m okay with hurting him. “Tyler, I’m sorr—”
“No, Peyton.” He lifts his hands almost in surrender, stepping farther away from me. “It’s fine. I don’t need an apology.” I don’t know what else to say, so I watch him put everything together, letting the pieces fall where they may. “Do I at least get an explanation? Did I come on too strong? Did I scare you with all the talk of USC? We can slow it down. Just see where this goes.”
He deserves so much more than an explanation. And it’s not like he won’t see Brodee and me together at some point. I swallow back the lump of tears. I don’t have the right to cry.
