by Sarah Smith
Since becoming friends, I’ve filled her in on why Little Beach is such a hot-button topic for me: how early-morning swims there used to be my lifeblood and that first off-the-charts awkward run-in with a naked Callum.
I grab her hand in a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, Penelope. You can say his name.”
“I just don’t want to bring up sad memories.”
“I know,” I say softly. I’m lucky to have a friend like Penelope who cares about how I feel, who goes out of her way to make sure I’m doing well.
“It’s just . . .” Her perfectly shaped eyebrows furrow in concern. “I know things are still raw, and I don’t want to make it worse by saying the wrong thing.”
“That means so much. But I’m moving on. And part of moving on is normalizing things that used to set me off. So you can say his name. I’m totally fine with it. You don’t have to walk on eggshells around me, okay?”
“Totally fine?” She raises an eyebrow.
I purse my lips at how easily she calls my bluff. I am light-years away from “totally fine.” Every day I still think of Callum. Because every day something happens to remind me of him. All it takes is a flash of golden hair in my peripheral vision or someone with an English accent ordering from the truck. I think of him cradling me into his chest when we slept, his perfect smile, his sandalwood cologne that always gave me goose bumps every time I took a breath. Of how I always, always felt at home in his presence.
In these moments, it’s a battle to get myself back on track. I try everything and anything. I breathe extra deep, take an extra long pause if I’m speaking, or close my eyes to collect myself for a moment.
But every day I do it because I have to. It’s the only way to move on.
One day I won’t have to silently tell myself to breathe until the pain passes. One day I’ll just instinctively do it. One day my chest won’t tighten, my eyes won’t water, my breath won’t catch. One day it won’t hurt anymore.
“Okay, not one hundred percent fine,” I say with a sigh. “But I’m managing. Every day is easier. Callum is a hell of a guy to get over, but I’ll get there. Eventually.”
She gives me another hug. “I’m so proud of you for how you’re moving on. Want me to wait here in the truck until you’re finished swimming so I can give you a ride home?”
I shake my head. “No, it’s okay. I’ll get an Uber. You should go home and rest. You worked so hard.”
I head to the back of the food truck to change, taking in the new look of the exterior. Penelope even helped me apply a fresh coat of paint on the food truck the other day, then touched up the images and lettering.
I pop out and pull her into a hug. “Thank you. For everything. I’m beyond lucky to have you as a friend.”
I slip her an envelope with her pay for the day, plus a little extra for her help with painting. I try and fail to keep my mouth from stretching into a grin that would give away the surprise. I can’t help it though. Just a few months ago I was struggling to break even, but now, I’m thriving and can afford a surprise like this. It’s a game-changing feeling of accomplishment.
I wave to Penelope as she drives away, then make my way to Big Beach. The walk across Big Beach to Little Beach is long, but it’s what I need after hours of nonstop cooking and serving. I weave around the haphazard array of locals and tourists lying on the beach. Gazing at the crystal-blue waves crashing against the sand is the reset I ache for after being on my feet all day.
I cross the rocky mound that separates Big Beach and Little Beach without tripping or scrambling. My legs and feet remember the path perfectly, even though it’s been months.
Just then my phone buzzes with a text from Madeline.
Hey!! SO good chatting with you the other night! I absolutely cannot wait to come see you next month
I type back that I’m equally psyched. We’ve chatted a couple of times on the phone, and it’s like no time has passed at all. There are no pleasantries to power through before we feel comfortable. We simply dive back into chatting about our day, our rants, our raves. It feels so good to have my friend back. When I asked her to come visit, I wasn’t even nervous. And when she said yes, I bolted up from my bed, bursting with excitement.
I’m itching to show her around the island I now call home, to take her to my favorite eateries and beaches. Comfort sets in. Before I know it, I’m beaming. Finally, after all the struggle and uncertainty, it feels like I earned my spot here on this island, like I belong. Like I’m home.
I’m nowhere near Baldwin Beach, but I whisper assurances to my dad, certain he’s listening.
“It’s all going to be good, Dad. Just like I promised.”
Before, I always had to be home or at Baldwin to feel connected to him. But right now, I feel closer to him than I ever have since he’s been gone. Because I know now that no matter where I am or where I go, he’s always with me.
I peer at the scene around me. Little Beach is exactly what I expected. Crazy crowded, a mix of clothed and naked beachgoers in the sand and water. I walk a few feet, staying at the edge of the beach, and drop my towel in the sand. Shedding my flip-flops, shorts, and tank top, I head for the shoreline. Instead of diving in, I curl my toes into the wet sand, the water lapping at my feet. I scan the waves ahead of me. A few dozen people swim and splash. I’ll need to take extra care not to run into anyone if I want to do proper laps today.
When I take a step forward, a large shadow appears next to me in the water. I twist to my right to acknowledge the person and make room. And then I promptly forget how to breathe, how to walk, how to talk.
Bare-chested Callum stands exactly one foot away from me. “Nikki.”
I open my mouth to say hello, but no words form. Only stuttered air. Clamping my mouth shut, I take a moment to swallow.
Breathe first, then talk.
“Callum,” I finally say.
“It’s so good to see you.” His words are a contrast to the indecipherable expression on his face. I can’t tell if he’s glad or upset that I’m here.
“I’m so happy to see you.” A breathy chuckle follows my words. It’s that laugh of disbelief that always comes when I’m overwhelmed or shocked. “How . . . What . . . How have you been?”
I bite my tongue, riding out the wave of embarrassment coursing through me. I guess my mouth didn’t hang onto the memo my brain just sent. My eyes do a measured once-over of his body. It probably looks like I’m ogling him, but I don’t care. My gaze moves slowly, like I’m surveying a swath of land I’m about to excavate. He looks good. Happy, even. In his shirtless state, I see that leanly muscled build I miss so much. His golden hair is cropped close to his scalp. He must have gotten a haircut recently. There’s about a week’s worth of blond stubble on his face too. He looks absolutely delicious.
His smile fades, the edge of it turning sad. “I’ve been all right. How have you been?”
“Um, okay.” Instinctively, I cross my arms. My eyes drop to my feet, which are now covered in wet sand. I jerk my gaze back up at him. “Work’s been busy.”
“I heard.”
One corner of his mouth curves up into the sweetest, most endearing half smile ever. I could cry, it’s so damn beautiful. And after tonight, I’ll probably never see it again.
“I took your advice,” I blurt, just to keep from bursting into tears.
His faces turns curious. “Oh?”
“I reached out to one of my friends in Oregon. Madeline. She’s coming to visit me.” I swallow, commanding the tears not to fall. “You were right. She understood everything, just like you said she would.”
This time when he smiles, it’s with his eyes. His entire face is warmth and softness. It makes my heart thud so hard, I’m scared it will fly out of my chest.
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Are you really? Happy, I mean.” The words fal
l out before I realize what I’ve said. But I want to know. I have to know. Even after all we’ve been through, after how things ended between us, Callum deserves to be happy. Everything in me hopes that he truly is.
There’s a slight twist to his expression that makes him look mildly pained. My heart lands in the pit of my stomach. He’s still hurt, still reeling. Because of me.
He sighs, eyes still on me “It’s been a bit rough since we . . . well, you know.” Clearing his throat, he drops his eyes to my sand-covered feet, then lifts them back up to my face. “Lemon and the kittens miss you.”
“I’m dying to see them and give them a cuddle.” I smile at the thought of them. “How are they?”
“Playful and curious. And always hungry. Lemon’s been a great mum, though, always keeping them in check.” Callum lets out a chuckle, his face turning joyful when he talks about them.
“Finn told me there are two boys and a girl.”
He nods. “You still have to help name them.”
I wonder how exactly we’ll figure out cat custody now that we’re over and he’s paired up with someone else. I’m about to bring it up when he speaks again.
“Congratulations by the way,” he says. “I know I left a comment on Instagram, but I never knew if you saw it, and I wanted to say it in person too.”
“Thank you. I did. You were so sweet to do that.”
His eyebrows wrinkle, concern painting his face. “I’m sorry for what I said to you at the festival, how dismissive I was. I was out of line. I know how much your work means to you, what it means for your mum. I always have. I just didn’t . . . I just wasn’t thinking straight in the moment. I was so caught up in my feelings at the time.”
At the time.
Of course. Because now everything has changed between us. He doesn’t feel the same way about me anymore.
I pause, biting my lip. I still owe him an apology. Now’s my chance, to finally say what I’ve been aching to say to him for weeks, even if it won’t change a thing. “I’m so, so sorry, Callum. For how I lashed out at you, for how I didn’t even give us a fighting chance.”
My voice trembles. I can’t help the sadness coursing through me. It’s been lying dormant inside me for weeks, but now that he’s in front of me, it explodes, like lava bursting through a crack in the earth.
“I know I messed up big-time,” I say. “And I just want you to know that I regret what I said to you.” Despite the way my voice quivers, I hope he can hear just how much I mean it.
Tears fall, but this time I don’t bother to wipe them away.
His face twists, then softens. “Nikki—”
“Wait, just let me finish.” My voice trips on a sob. “My mom pointed out to me not so long ago that I’ve been pushing people away ever since I lost my dad. And just like you said, I was afraid of getting hurt—because I didn’t want to lose another person like I lost my dad. I was just too scared to admit it.”
I stop to take a breath. Callum’s chest heaves up and down in unison with me.
“I know it’s too late to fix things between us, but I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am. You deserve an apology.”
The words “I love you” spark on the edge of my tongue. I even open my mouth, but I don’t say it. Because what good would that do, to tell him I love him when he’s with someone else now? It would just add to the stockpile of pain.
With a swallow, I erase the words. The pause between us stretches. All I hear are crashing waves and the sound of chatter around us.
I wipe both palms of my hands against my soaked cheeks, sniffling. “I’ve wanted to tell you that for a while now. I even . . .”
I contemplate explaining my romantic grand gesture, but I stop myself. What would be the point of that? I bend down to rinse the snot and tears from my hands in the warm ocean water. Callum watches, still saying nothing.
“I should have found you sooner so I could apologize in person, but I don’t even know where you’re working now,” I say.
“Kahului. By the airport.”
“Oh. That’s good. Really good. You probably get a steady funnel of tourists who arrive from their flights starving.”
“Nikki—”
A sound like a joyless laugh spurts from me. “That’s actually genius. Why didn’t I think of that when I first moved here?”
“The only reason we managed to land that spot in Kahului is because another food truck had just closed. It was all luck and timing. Everything in that area is so full already.” He sighs. “We drove around the island right after the festival to find a decent spot. It was bloody awful. I can’t believe Finn did that for months before I came here. And I can’t believe you did it, too, before you found that spot on Makena. Now I know why you were so territorial when I first parked next to you.”
He takes a step toward me. We’re inches apart now. His body is so close, I can feel the heat radiating from him, skimming my skin. Like a soft kiss, a whisper. I’d give anything to hug him, to touch my hand to his skin. But I can’t. He’s not mine. He almost was though.
I will the thought away. At least I can talk to him, at least I could apologize to him face-to-face. And now I can move on.
When I blink this time, no tears fall. “I’m really happy for you and Finn, Callum. I’m glad business is going well for you. It was really good seeing you.”
I turn to walk back to my towel, but then he grabs my hand and I’m on fire. Even though it’s just our palms touching, I feel the flames over every inch of my skin. That delicious warmth I’ve missed so much, that I’ve ached for every single day. Nothing feels as good. Not sunlight, not my favorite fuzzy blanket, not a warm ocean breeze. Nothing can compete with Callum’s simmering warmth. It is bliss on my skin.
When I look up at Callum, my gaze latches on to those perfect hazel eyes. I couldn’t break this stare if my life depended on it.
“I finally watched your video on Penelope’s Instagram,” Callum says. A swallow moves down his throat. “You love me?”
My breath catches, but I steady myself. “I do. So much. I’m sorry.” I stop before my voice can break.
He looks at me like I’ve started barking instead of speaking. “Sorry for what?”
Pulling my hand out of his is the single hardest physical act I’ve had to complete in recent memory. But I have to. Because Callum isn’t mine. He’s someone else’s. And if he were with me and some other woman confessed her feelings to him, I’d rage. It’s not right what I’m doing, going on like this. I have to stop.
“I’m sorry that I’m doing this, that I’m saying this to you. It’s not right.”
“What do you mean it’s not right?”
I clasp my hands behind my back to ensure I won’t touch him again. “You’re with someone else, Callum. That means I shouldn’t be saying any of this to you.”
When my head droops to the ground, he guides me back to his gaze with his thumb under my chin. “What are you talking about? I’m not with anyone.”
I’m frowning so hard, the muscles in my forehead ache. “But the redhead. I saw you two together.”
“The redhead? What redhead?”
“Your redhead, Callum. Or ginger—whatever you call redheads. I—okay, listen. This is going to sound so creepy and crazy, but I drove to your condo the other day to try to work things out with you. I ran into Finn at the farmer’s market, and he told me I should go see you and tell you how I feel. So I drove to your condo, but before I could even get out of my car, I saw you walk out the door with that gorgeous woman . . .”
I stop to catch my breath. Callum’s hand falls from my face to rub his own. I can’t tell if he’s smiling or grimacing. “Oh. Her.”
“Yeah.” My reply is barely audible over the crashing waves. They’re picking up in intensity now that it’s evening.
When he lets out his next breath, h
e looks relieved. “Nikki, that was Rose. Our cousin. She was visiting us from Scotland.”
“Oh.” The word falls from my lips like a hiccup. “So . . . you’re not with anyone?”
“I’ve not been with anyone since you, Nikki. I don’t want anyone but you.”
“But . . . but I thought you were so hurt . . . I thought you didn’t want me—”
He grabs my hands in his again. Warmth simmers all over me. Home.
“I still wanted you, Nikki. I was just hurt. I needed time. But that didn’t mean I ever stopped loving you.”
“You still love me?”
He nods, pulling me closer by the hands. We’re nearly chest to chest now. I have to tilt my head up just to keep looking at him.
“I’ve been miserable without you. Just ask Finn.” Callum’s chest heaves with a breath. “Last night he got back from a day trip with Grace, sat me down, and asked if I finally watched Penelope’s video. I hadn’t, of course, since I had been working, volunteering, and entertaining our cousin. So he pulled out his phone and played it for me. I was speechless. He said he was sick of me being an insufferable lump and I had no reason to be sad knowing you felt the same way about me, and that I needed to find you and make things right.”
I tear up once more, but this time it’s okay because I’m smiling. “Finn said that?”
“He did.”
He wraps his arms around my waist. “So let’s do this the right way. I want a proper relationship with you out in the open, for everyone to know and see. No more hiding.”
“I want that too. I love you, Callum.”
“I love you, Nikki.”
He leans down to kiss me, and it’s an explosion. Our tongues tangle and tease until we absolutely have to come up for air. I collapse into him, and he hugs me tight against his body.
Whistles and claps follow our very public display of affection. I tuck my face into Callum’s chest, smiling.
“Half the people on this beach are naked, and this is what they stop and stare at?” Callum growls into my neck.
