by Inda Herwood
“Have any plans tomorrow?” I casually bring up, my throat feeling tight with the question.
She shakes her head, her hair back up in a bun. I wish she’d flaunt those beautiful waves more often. She looks like a golden goddess with it down. Not that she isn’t beautiful with it up, but damn. That hair is something else. I think it’s my newest obsession next to picking her up in my arms when she least expects it.
“No. Do you?”
“Kind of. I was wondering if you’d like to be a part of them?”
She smiles. “Depends, what do you have in mind?”
I shrug, though every nerve inside me is on high alert. I haven’t asked a girl out in a long time, and never one where we had a bad start to our relationship. I don’t know if the wounds I inflicted are still too much for her to forgive. Friendship is one thing, but dating is another.
That kiss is the only thing that gives me any confidence that I might still have a shot.
“I thought we could go out on the boat for a while with a picnic or something, let the sun turn us golden.” I grin at her, stopping us once we get to the opening of the path that will lead us back to our respective homes. I felt a shift that day in the waves, the feeble strands of friendship we were creating turning into something more.
I don’t want to just be her buddy anymore. I want to hold her paint stained hands in mine, and take more romantic midnight strolls on the beach. I want to have her in my room, listening to music with me; her sitting in my lap with her arms linked around my neck, smiling at whatever clever retort she just paid me. I want to kiss her in greeting when she appears at my door, swallowing her in my arms. It’s a long list of things I hope she wants, too.
“Who is we? Your brothers and Leigha?” she asks, leaning on one foot and then the other, fidgeting.
“I was thinking more along the lines of just you and me,” I say, letting the words hang between us, my heart picking up extra beats with the silence.
She licks her lips before letting them turn into a satisfied grin. “Is Beckham Lyons asking me out?”
Well, at least it wasn’t an outright rejection.
Sighing while staring over her head, I say, “Yes, I am. And thank you for pointing out that I was too much of a coward to just say, ‘Kahlo, will you make me super happy and go on a date with me?’”
“Ah, that was so sweet. Why didn’t you just say that?” Still swaying like a sail in the wind, I grab both of her hands and bring them to my chest where I keep them hostage with my own. Her look of pleasant surprise has me holding in a laugh.
“I was afraid you’d say no if I just came right out with it,” I explain to her, my heart doing that arrythmia thing again. I can’t seem to keep the truth from her, not when she’s looking at me like that.
“And why is that?”
“Because I was such a jerk to you in the beginning. I know we’re friends now, but I didn’t know if the scar would be too big for us to become…more. But then you made out with me on the beach, and –”
“First of all, I was trying to distract you, not make out with you.”
“Mm-hmm,” I mutter, unconvinced.
“And second, what’s this something more?” Eyes thoughtful when she looks at me, she asks, “Does it mean that you weren’t just flirting with me for fun that day?”
“Oh, it was definitely fun. But I was building up the groundwork for something bigger.”
She smirks. “Like asking me out?”
I nod. “Like asking you out. Which you still haven’t said yes to, I might point out.”
“Hmm.” She hums under her breath, never taking her eyes away from me. “Does this boat have life vests on it?”
“Yes. As well as a lifeguard who would be more than willing to give you mouth to mouth resuscitation if it came to that.” I jump my brows at her and she slaps my shoulder, laughing to herself before starting to walk back up the path to her house.
“Hey, what was that for?”
She doesn’t turn around when she says, “For you being you.”
Wait. “Does that mean you don’t want to go with me?”
She stops in the sand, saying over her shoulder, a slight smile stretching her lips, “I’ll go, but only on one condition.”
“Okay…”
“I never touch the water.”
What?
“Not even splashing?”
“Not even a raindrop.”
“This is a promise I don’t know if I can keep,” I admit, having pictured in my head diving off the side of the boat, only to grab her arm and drag her in with me. I wasn’t kidding when I said I wanted her to love the water, even after the jellyfish disaster.
“Then I’ll see you when you get back,” she says, starting to walk away again.
“Fine! No splashing,” I concede, wishing she would just turn around.
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
I can hear the smile in her voice when she says back, “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”
CHAPTER 14
Blaire
I get a text the next morning, the unexpected buzz waking me up with a jolt. I let my hand slap all over the top of my side table until it finds a rectangular shape, holding it up for my eyes to see. Looking at the message, I let out a gasp.
Good morning, Kahlo ;) Meet me on my driveway in twenty, and pack some sunscreen. We’re going to be out for a while. – Beck
Holy crap. Last night wasn’t just a dream my delirious mind concocted? I really went for a walk with Beckham and he really asked me out on a boat date?
And now I only have twenty minutes to not look like a mess?
Shoot.
Jumping out of bed, I nearly trip and fall on the edge of the rug, just barely catching myself in time before I crash into Sir Leopold on my desk. “Sorry, bud,” I tell him when the impact shakes the water in his bowl. I feed him a few fish food flakes before putting on my swimsuit, ripped shorts, and a baby pink tank top; throwing my hair up in its perpetual bun before grabbing a bunch of things I’d like to have on the boat. And by things, I mean art supplies. I grab my tote and throw in my sketchbook, some pencils, and my new old copy of P and P, smiling at the memory when I feel the weathered cover in my hands.
Wondering if I should bring anything else, I text him, Is there anything other than sunscreen that you recommend to bring on a boat?
A minute later I get his response.
A bikini. Bikinis are definitely required for any boating adventure. Particularly yellow ones.
You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?
I don’t think, Kahlo. I know I am. See you in a few.
Opening my door with a smile to walk into the hall, my phone starts ringing in my hand, startling me. Swiping Answer after I see the number, I say, “Hey.”
“Hey, is it true that you and Beckham are going on a boat date?” Leigha asks, her voice sounding slightly off.
I stop halfway down the stairs, not sure what it could mean. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“Well first I’d like to congratulate you for finally getting off the Friend Express, and second…can I crash your date?”
“What?” I ask, not sure I heard her right.
“I know it’s your first date and it’s going to be romantic and crap, but I really need to not be on land right now. I need an escape, and I was hoping your love life could provide it for me.”
Sighing, I start walking back down the stairs again, checking my watch for the time. I’ll have barely any left to spare after I explain to my parents where I’m going, especially if they have questions, and they most definitely will. “Why would you need to escape on a boat with us?”
She groans. “It’s a long and stupid story, but I’m trying to get away from someone. Can you help a girl out just this once?”
Stepping into the kitchen, I grab a protein bar out of the cabinet. “Are you in danger? Is this something you should tell your aunt and uncle about?”
“No, it’s nothing like Dat
eline or anything. I just have to be busy this morning. So, can I come? I promise I won’t make fun of you if the two of you start making out again.”
I roll my eyes at the ceiling and they get stuck there, just as Nana enters the kitchen. Giving me a raised brow in question, she reaches for her bran flakes next to me. “I don’t even know yet if I can go or not. But if I can, sure, you can crash…but wait, why didn’t you just ask Beck?” They live in the same house; wouldn’t it have been easier to just walk down the hall and ask him?
“Because he would have given me a big fat no. I knew you’d be a lot more accommodating.”
“Whatever, I’ll text you in a few,” I say before signing off, feeling a well of disappointment flood me. This was supposed to be my day with Beckham, just the two of us for once. But it’s not like I could have told her no. Leigha is my friend, too. If she needs my help, then I’ll always give it to her.
But it doesn’t mean that I’m not going to question her on why she needs saving in the first place.
“What was that all about?” Nana asks, parking herself at one of the island stools. She still has her hair in curlers, her leopard print bathrobe nearly hanging to the floor, covering her matching slippers.
“Just Leigha wondering if she can go out on the boat with Beckham and me today. By the way, do you know where Mom and Dad are? I wanted to tell them where I’m going before I left.” Grabbing a bottled water out of the fridge, I stick it in my bag, feeling her eyes stare into my back like tiny lasers.
“This wouldn’t be a date, would it?”
“Is it still a date if you have a third wheel?” I ask, not sure myself.
“In my day we used to call them chaperones. So yes, I’d still call it a date. But your parents aren’t here.”
Turning to look at her, I ask her after she takes a bite of cereal, “Where’d they go?”
“Out to breakfast.” A devilish spark lights up her eyes, and dread hits me like a cannon ball. “You know what that means.”
Yep. I do. It means I have to get her permission now instead of theirs.
Crap.
“Since you let me go for a walk with him last night, I’m hoping that spending the day on a boat with him and his cousin will be an easier sell,” I say with a wincing smile, reminding her that yes, she can be a cool grandma when she wants to be. I’m praying she’ll be one again today.
“Depends. What kind of a boat is it, and is he a capable captain?”
Considering I’ve never been on a boat, seen their boat, or witnessed Beckham steering one, “How would I know?”
“Exactly. I think I need to inquire about this before I let you go. Let Nana have some peace of mind, will ya?” She stands up from her chair and starts walking to the door, curlers and all.
“Nana, what are you doing? Are you really going out there like that?” I ask, feeling the embarrassment hit me before she even opens the door. I hurry to catch up with her, surprised at how fast she can move when she’s motivated.
Running out the door, I catch up with her in the driveway where Beckham is standing with his cousin in tow, his expression looking less than thrilled by her presence. But it quickly changes when he sees my grandmother barreling towards him, looking like a tornado through a trailer park.
“Good morning, Nana,” Leigha greets her with a smile, looking up from her phone.
“Good morning, dear. Don’t you look beautiful,” she says, and I’d have to admit, Leigha looks like a knockout in cutoff cotton shorts and a matching, flowy white blouse. Her black and teal hair is up in a sleek ponytail, only adding to the Hamptons-esque vibe she has going on.
“Thank you.”
“So, I hear you’re going to be boating this morning. How fun.” Though she says this with a smile, her tone says otherwise. “Tell me, what kind of experience do you have with boats, Beckham?” She turns to look at him, way up at him, and a surprised expression crosses over his face.
“I, um, I’ve been boating since I was five. My dad started teaching me to sail at twelve.”
“And what kind of a boat is it that you sail?”
Oh, for the love of – “Nana, obviously you sail a sailboat. What else does one sail?”
She narrows her eyes at me, looking fierce even in the most ridiculous morning getup you’ve ever seen. “You’re going to sail through the air if you sass me again. Now shush.” Looking back at Beckham, she says, “I want life jackets on at all times, and a call to check in when you’re back at the dock, you got it? No exceptions.”
We all nod in unison when she doesn’t let the glare waver, feeling quite thoroughly scolded.
And here I thought my parents were going to be the issue.
After I say goodbye to Nana, she goes back into the house. I breathe a sigh of relief, and Beckham laughs at me. “I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with her,” I tell him, still feeling humiliated. “She acts like I’m five instead of seventeen.”
Taking my tote from me, he smiles, giving me a small kiss on the forehead. When he pulls away, he says, ignoring my surprise, “You’re her only grandchild. You’re naturally going to be smothered. Now come on, the boat awaits.”
“And so does your cousin,” I say, seeing Leigha waiting by the trunk of the car, her phone pressed to her ear again.
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.” He winces a little bit when he says this, scratching at the back of his neck.
“I know she’s coming along. She called me this morning to ask if it was okay. I hope you’re not mad that I said yes,” I say, biting my lip.
He sighs. “Yeah, I know. But I kind of promised someone else they could come along, too.”
Great, so now there’s going to be a fourth wheel? “Is it Catcher?”
“Heck no,” he laughs.
“Theo?”
“He’s out with Mom and Dad today. No, it’s someone you don’t know, but he and Catcher have become pretty good friends. He’s staying down the road for the summer with his parents and his sister, and apparently Mom had told him Leigha would show him around today. Only I heard her call him and say she was sick this morning to get out of it. So, I invited him along as a little payback for her crashing our special day.” He smiles at her when she catches his eye, doing a little finger wave that makes her brows crease.
Let me get this straight. “You thought that inviting the guy she’s actively trying to avoid on a boat trip – where no one can escape, mind you – was a good idea?” I ask him, trying to hold in a laugh when his smile vanishes into thin air.
“I…I never thought of it like that.” Running his hand through his hair, all of the terrible scenarios flashing across his eyes, he moans, “She’s going to kill me, isn’t she?”
I shrug, crossing my arms over my chest, smiling. “Most likely.”
He lets out a sigh. “This is what I get for taking the low road.”
“Yup, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t still have a nice day,” I try to comfort him, taking his hand and interlocking our fingers together. “We’ll just have to make the best of it.”
“You and your optimism.” He smiles, walking us over to the car, Leigha officially done with her phone call. She leans against the passenger side door, giving us an impatient look. When she goes to open it after Beck unlocks the door, he shakes his head at her. “Nope, you’re sitting in the back. One of the disadvantages of being a date crasher.”
She huffs but doesn’t argue, making her way to the back seat.
“Do you want her to hate me, too?” I ask him when he leaves the door open for me, helping me step up into the seat.
“No, but she should know that lying has repercussions.”
“Hey, what does that mean?” she asks, popping her head up between the front seats.
He says nothing, just gives me a wink that only further annoys his cousin.
***
It’s a busy day at the marina when we arrive, people dressed in designer clothes and sunglasses everywhere
I look, stepping onto giant boats and yachts that could feed a small country if you sold them. I’m sure the thought has never occurred to a single one of these people before, I think to myself after Beckham helps me out of the car, keeping my hand in his as we walk around to the back.
“I hope you packed a lunch for three, because I’m starving,” Leigha says, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand while the other pulls out an enormous beach bag from the trunk.
Beckham grabs what looks like an authentic picnic basket after she’s done wrestling her bag, saying when he shuts the door, “Nope.”
Her hand drops from her eyes, mouth gawking at him. “What?”
“I only prepared enough for two. You’re going to have to go grab a sub or something. You might want to get a drink, too,” he says without looking at her, making sure he has everything in the basket before he locks up the car. “We’ll wait for you on the dock.” Looking at me with a happy, carefree smile, as if everything is right with the world, he says, “Are you ready?” holding out his hand for me to take again.
I wrap my hand around his, and Leigha stalks away, a slight growl coming from her with every step. “Do you think you might be pushing it now?” I ask, watching her grow smaller and smaller in the distance.
“She deserves it. And anyway, she hates peanut butter and jelly.”
“Oh, is that what the chef prepared for us today?” I ask with a grin, our feet taking us to the dock, weaving in and out between people rushing around.
“I’m an eighteen-year-old guy. It was this or cereal. I figured this was more portable.” He holds up the basket as proof and I laugh, secretly glad he didn’t go out and buy something. Knowing that he cared enough to make it himself gives it more meaning.
“So which one of these giants is yours?” I ask after a few minutes of walking, passing boat after boat, their size and grandeur amazing me the further we get down the dock.
When we get to the second to last slip in the marina, he stops us and says, “This one.”
Staring up at it, I’m hit first by the simple beauty of the sailboat. Its hull is painted a dark navy blue with rich cherry wood accenting its curves, giving it a classic look. A closed cabin sits in the middle with a U-shaped seating area in the back, making room for at least ten people.
