by Wade, Ellie
Or I’m just a complete wimp.
I grunt loudly in an unladylike fashion as I hoist one end of the kayak off the ground, but my hands slip. In an effort to catch the thing, I stumble on the wet ground. I let out a startled yell as my ass hits the slick earth, and the stupid wannabe boat falls on my legs.
Ouch! That’s going to turn lovely shades of blue and purple.
My eyes water from the event. It’s not as if I’m in excruciating pain, but it does sting a little, and my ego along with my shins are definitely bruised.
“London, what are you doing?” Loïc chuckles as he lifts the kayak off of me.
“I was trying to help.” I sniffle, completely embarrassed.
My confession causes him to laugh some more as he grabs my hand and lifts me into a standing position against his chest. He hugs me, pulling me into his warmness, while one of his hands rubs soothingly up and down my back. Against my cheek, I can feel the vibrations of the laughter he’s trying to hide, but I don’t care. I’ll fall more often to be held by Loïc.
I’m a true mess around him and extremely wishy-washy. One minute, I’m asserting my will, letting him know that I will not be walked all over, reminding him that I’m a strong, desirable woman who demands respect. The next, I’m a sniffling damsel in distress who’s contemplating what other precarious situations I can get myself into, so he’ll hold me like this again.
I’m an embarrassment to women’s rights everywhere.
He releases his hold. His hands grab on to my upper arms and push me back a bit. His amused gaze finds my embarrassed one. “You okay?”
I nod.
“Good.” He leans down and kisses my forehead before his grasp releases my arms. “Then, let’s go. I’ll handle the kayak.” He winks.
Cocky bastard.
He points to the life jackets by his feet. “Can you grab those?”
I pick up the vests and then say, “You know, it’s your fault.”
He lifts the kayak over his head, like it weighs nothing. His shirt rises with the motion, and I can see his tight stomach muscles and the V that disappears beneath his shorts. I force my eyes upward, only to be met with the sculpted muscles of his arms as they tighten to hold the kayak.
“Oh, really? How so?” He chuckles.
My focus snaps to his deep blues as he waits for my response. “Oh, well…you made me change into flip-flops, and they have no traction, which caused me to slip,” I answer petulantly.
He shakes his head in amusement and starts walking toward the water. “Right, and your heels would have been better?”
“Whatever.” I follow after him.
“You know what, London? I think you have an issue with being wrong or corrected.”
“I do not,” I protest. I so do.
“You do, and it’s kind of a big flaw. It makes you seem spoiled.”
My mouth opens wide as I gasp in disapproval. Loïc sets the kayak down on the bank by the river.
“If you think I’m so spoiled, why are you here with me?” I ask firmly, my pride overruling my desire to shut up and be the girl that Loïc wants me to be.
Yes, I’m infatuated with him. Yes, I want him like I’ve never wanted anyone else in my life. But I’m not a good actress. I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. Loïc would see right through it. I just wish I were someone who knew exactly who she was. My attitude is all over the place. I’m composed of a myriad of opposing emotions. In the past few weeks, I’ve realized that I’m somewhat of a train wreck. No matter how badly I want Loïc, it’d be better for him to tire of me sooner than later, right? It’s best to let my true colors shine.
Loïc takes a step toward me until we are a breath apart. He places his hand on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb across my collarbone. He stares at me with so much intensity that my heart begins to beat wildly in my chest.
“Do you know why I waited a week to text you, London?”
I shake my head, my eyes wide.
“It’s because I’m fucked up. I have issues and not small ones either. I have real ones that prevent me from having too many true relationships in my life. I hate that about myself, and I wish it were different, but it’s not.
“But then I saw this girl who was so insanely beautiful that I could barely breathe in her presence. From the moment I met her, I relied on the walls that I had put up to keep people out, but it didn’t matter. She got in. Despite all my efforts, she penetrated my walls. She was constantly on my mind, and just when I figured I would lose my mind from thinking about her, I randomly ran into her.
“I fought hard to ignore her, to hate her. I wanted to detest her. I did. Longing for someone you can’t have is nothing short of torture. So, I picked apart everything about her, looking for a flaw big enough to keep her from monopolizing my thoughts. Regardless of the negatives that popped up, the positives were always the loudest.
“I can’t describe my attraction to her because it is so much more than physical. Something about her calls to me, beckoning me toward her. It’s almost innate, unstoppable. So, finally, after deliberating so much that I thought my brain would burst, I decided to give it a chance.
“Perhaps, as she told me before, we’re truly meant to be. Just maybe, I’m meant to have happiness in this life. I know she’s not perfect. She has flaws, as do I. But I texted her back because what if my lots of fucked up and her little of fucked up can be fucked up together?” His other hand grasps my waist, and his fingers dig into my skin in the most delightful way.
He pauses a moment and regards me with burning eyes. “Maybe, where you have holes, I can fill you with my strength, and where I am ripped wide open, you can mend me. There has to be a reason that you’re the first woman in my life whom I can’t ignore. It’s a lot to hope. But there’s a small chance that, someday, we won’t be fucked up together; we’ll just be together.”
All I can manage to say is, “Wow.”
“I know.” Loïc’s voice is low. His hand releases its hold on my waist.
“I mean, like, wow, I didn’t know you had all those words in you.”
Loïc throws his head back in laughter. “I told you I’ve had a lot of time to think.”
“I guess so. Did you have that all planned out? That’s deep for a second date.” I know I shouldn’t be kidding with him after he just laid his heart and soul out for me, but I need a moment to process his words, and I’m pretty sure he needs it, too.
“No, it just sorta came out.”
“You’re a deep kinda guy, I guess.”
“I’m definitely intense. You can add that to my flaw category.”
“I’m digging your flaws.” I smile.
“And I’m digging yours.”
“Even the fact that I’m a little spoiled?” I quirk up a brow in question.
“Even that.” He chuckles.
“There is one major flaw that I can’t overlook.” I press my lips together.
Loïc’s expression goes serious. “What’s that?”
I take in a big breath. “Well, usually, when a guy gives a sweet and sexy speech like that, he follows it up with an equally as hot kiss. I’m feeling cheated without a kiss, and that’s definitely being marked as a flaw.”
Using that deliciously low voice that makes my toes curl, he says, “Lucky for you, that’s one I can fix.”
Before I can think of a witty response, his mouth is on mine. He wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me in, so our bodies are flush as our tongues move desperately against each other. I thread my fingers through the short hair at the nape of his neck, pushing our mouths as close together as possible.
I can’t get enough of Loïc. I don’t think I ever will.
As our kiss continues, my mind returns to his words from seconds ago, and my heart swells with happiness. He said a lot, and I will take it all in later. But the one thing that rings loud and clear is that he is just as infatuated with me as I am with him. Nothing could make me happier.
Loïc
“Please forget my lame attempt at a joke. I’m not remotely funny. It’s one of my flaws.”
—Loïc Berkeley
“You’ve never done this before, have you?” I can’t stop from chuckling as I watch London struggle with the paddle, like she’s slaying a dragon with a sword.
“Um, no. Is it that obvious?” she calls over her shoulder at me.
“Yep.” I get the feeling that she really isn’t an outdoorsy type of girl. One more flaw to add to her growing list and one that I’ll gladly help her with.
I love being outside. There’s something comforting about being out in the elements, regardless of what they are. I’ve lived all over the United States and been to Iraq. It doesn’t matter if I’m sitting beneath the lush evergreens in Washington as it rains or in the Iraqi desert, covering my face as the sand whips around me. Being outside calms me.
I spent way too much time inside as a child, hiding from my fears, trying to make myself invisible to the horrors that surrounded me. A large part of my childhood passed by with me feeling suffocated between strong walls that didn’t protect me. I’ve learned that there are a lot of truly evil people in this world who will hurt others for their enjoyment. And that’s the thing I love about nature; it’s not out to get anyone. Yes, it can be powerful and even deadly, but it’s not personal. It is a force to be reckoned with, but at least it’s a fair force. And it’s always beautiful, whether it’s the waves coming onto the sandy beaches of South Carolina or a thunder and lightning storm in Georgia. Regardless of how serene or fierce its attributes are, nature is exquisite. I simply find it really intriguing.
Maybe that’s why I’m so obsessed with London. I have to smile at the similarities. She can be as soothing as a breeze floating through the trees on a warm fall day or as dangerous as an ice storm on a busy highway during rush hour. Her mood shifts from hot to cold on a dime, yet both are equally thrilling. Through both, she’s beautiful.
I think she has some growing to do as a person. I’m not sure she knows exactly where her place is in this world—not that I do either. But I’m hoping, when she finds it, she keeps her fire because I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t find it extremely hot.
She stops wrestling with the water and wedges her paddle into the space down by her feet. She twists back, so she can see me. “I get the feeling you love all this sporty outdoorsy crap, don’t you?”
I laugh and nod my head. “Yeah, I do.”
“Are all our dates going to be outside?” she says with a sigh.
“Probably.”
She groans and throws her head back with exaggerated effort, eliciting another round of laughter from me.
“You’ll get used to it,” I say.
“I think I should be in charge of planning some of our dates then. That’s it. I’m taking you out next time.”
“That’s fine. It won’t be as fun as this though.” I offer her a wink.
“This isn’t fun. My arms hurt,” she says with a frown.
“How can your arms hurt? You’ve barely done anything.”
“Hey!” She sounds offended, but I know she’s just being dramatic. “I’ve been paddling…a lot.”
“That’s what you call it?”
“I hate you.” She pouts.
“Keep telling yourself that.”
London leans back as I continue to guide us down the river, which is fine by me. She wasn’t that helpful anyway. We don’t talk for a few minutes, and I take in the soothing sounds of the water.
After a while, I say, “You know that’s kind of a flaw.”
“What is?” she questions.
“Telling people that you hate them because they don’t say or do exactly what you want them to.”
“Is this, like, our thing? Pointing out what we don’t like about the other person. ’Cause, if it is, that’s not really good for building a relationship.”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I am right. And you know what, Loïc? You pointing out all of my flaws is definitely a huge flaw of your own.”
“We all have them, London. No one is perfect. Wouldn’t you like to know what yours are, so you can work on them?”
She huffs out a short laugh. “Not really. You know, growing up, my parents did nothing but tell me how great I was. I’m really good at listening to the wonderful things about me. You should try that move.”
“Well, growing up, I was abandoned by the only people in the world who loved me. I was left to protect myself from predators who got off on hurting children and telling me how worthless I was every single day. I guess we come from different worlds.”
London gasps, and I realize that my stab at wit about my past didn’t end up humorous at all.
I’m such an idiot.
I wanted to keep the rest of the date carefree after my extremely premature deep confessions back when we were on the bank of the river.
“I’m sorry, London. I didn’t mean to say that. It was a horrible attempt at a joke. Just forget it.”
She nods, her expression one of sadness. She turns around, and we continue down the river in silence. She lifts her arm a couple of times, her hand moving to wipe something at the corner of her eye. I can’t see her face, but I think she’s crying.
Great, I made her cry. This is why I don’t date—or at least, it’s one of the reasons. I suck at it.
I steer the kayak over to the bank. A truck from the kayak rental place is there, waiting to take us back to where we parked, eight or so miles back.
After the kayak hits the sandy bank, I step out and pull it out of the water. Reaching down, I grab London’s hand and help her get out. I hold her to me and hug her tight before lightly kissing her forehead. “Please forget my lame attempt at a joke. I’m not remotely funny. It’s one of my flaws.”
To this, she giggles, and I realize that it’s definitely a favorite sound.
“It’s definitely a flaw. You should really work on it,” she responds.
“I know. I’ll try,” I say with mock seriousness.
I lift her off the ground so that her neck is level with my face, and I nuzzle my lips against the soft skin beneath her ear. I breathe her in, letting her sweetness fill my soul.
I’ve got it bad for this chick.
That fact both terrifies and exhilarates me.
London was right earlier. I did contemplate never returning her texts or taking her out again. In this short time that I’ve been talking to her, something has been happening to me. I’m having feelings that I haven’t had to deal with in a long time. I’m thinking about people and places that I’d rather not think about. Hell, last night, I dreamed about Jessica, a girl from my foster home days whom I hated above all else—well, almost.
London came into my life, and so did a shitstorm of emotional baggage. It’s as if I can’t let my guard down to allow London access to who I really am without letting in all the sadness I’ve been keeping out. Apparently, my emotions are all or nothing.
As I said in my confession to her earlier—when all the feelings in my head decided to flow out of my mouth like vomit, unwanted and uninvited—for some reason, I think she’s worth it. I’ve been closed off for so long. I’ve decided to face my fears for once, and after years of being a coward, I’m finally ready to show an ounce of courage.
We get the kayak loaded up and take a seat in the vehicle. The ride back to my truck isn’t long. My fingers thread between London’s as we hold hands. No words are spoken on the way back. We’re both absorbed in our own thoughts. I would pay good money to know what she’s thinking.
The truck drops us off. The sky around us is getting darker. I come to this area often to go kayaking, so I know that the state park nearby has a hill where we can park. We hop in my truck and travel a few minutes down the road until I park at the perfect vantage point to view the upcoming sunset.
After getting out of the truck, I start to organize the blankets in the bed of it.
London chuckles b
eside me.
“What?” I ask.
“I just had this vision of our entire dating future taking place outside.”
“Sounds good to me.” I finish laying out the blankets. “Do you have complaints about the last time we were in the bed of this truck together?” I raise my eyebrow in question.
That statement halts her snickers. “Um, no. Definitely not.”
Even without the bright light of the day, I can see her cheeks redden.
“That’s what I thought,” I answer with a smug expression.
“Well, you know, we do live in Michigan, home of the eight-month winter. So, we’re going to have to spend some time indoors eventually.”
“Number one, I think eight months is a slight exaggeration. And number two, they make clothes to help with the elements—you know, snow pants, gloves…things like that.”
“No way. Winter is unbearable, even with all that snow gear. My mom was trying to get me to move South the other day—or at least look for jobs south of here. I told her no because Paige was here, but now that I’m reminded of the winters, I just might.”
The words have an almost tangible force to them as they come from her mouth. I feel them hit me in my chest, and I have to pull in a breath. I stare at her for a moment and imagine her leaving, moving away. I know I don’t have the right to care—I barely know her—but the thought of losing her hurts for more reasons than I can explain.
Her gaze finds mine, and I see something flash through her eyes—regret maybe.
“I didn’t mean that I am moving. I don’t know. I haven’t even started looking for jobs yet, to be honest. I’m going to apply to ones around here, too.” Her words come out fast, rushed.
“London, it’s fine.” It’s not fine, but there’s nothing I can do about it this very second…except maybe give her reasons to stay. “Come on.” I reach out and grab her hands, pulling her onto the blankets.
We get situated so that I’m leaning my back against the cab of the truck, and London lies between my legs with her back to my chest.
