AllFreeNovel
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He doesn’t tell me where we’re going, just that we’ll be there by the time the sun comes up. With our playlist filling the space between us, I settle into the passenger seat and twine my fingers with his, grateful to be in the same space as him for the first time in too long. And when I can’t keep my eyes open anymore, I allow myself to doze off, lulled to sleep by the rhythm of the road and the whisper of Maxwell’s voice as he sings along to our song.
When I wake up, we’re pulling into the parking lot of what looks like a beachside motel, but it’s so dark – nearly three in the morning according to the car’s clock – I can’t see anything beyond the motel. Max checks us in and I collapse into the first bed just inside the door.
“We need to be up by six,” he brushes my hair from my eyes and kisses my temple. “Sleep tight.”
Coffee.
Rich and warm and dark.
The scent fills my nose and when I roll over I’m reminded of a few things: one, I’m in a motel room with Maxwell Harrison. And two, I slept for three hours on a motel mattress and can feel it in every joint and muscle. But there’s a paper cup on the bedside table with steam coming out of the small spout on the lid and Maxwell is on the next bed over, sipping from his own cup of coffee.
“Morning, Duckling. How’d you sleep?”
I roll onto my back with a groan as I try to stretch and am met with tight…everything.
“I’ve had better naps,” I huff out a small laugh as I sit up, “but all things considered? Not bad.”
“Good. Because we should get going. Grab your coffee.”
I follow Max out the door, curious, but still not asking questions. He looks so pleased with himself and whatever he has planned. When we get to the car, he opens the back hatch and hands me a pair of rubber boots; between the boots and the sound of waves crashing in the distance, I start to put the pieces together.
“I’ve been studying the tide tables and Sam helped me do some research, but you’re the expert here.” Max gives me a shy smile and my heart swells. “I’ve planned everything up to this point. Sutton…will you take me to the tide pools?”
As the sun starts to rise behind us, Max and I step onto the beach. He says I’m the expert, but in reality I haven’t done this in more than a decade. Not since my senior year of college. When my feet hit the sand though, it all comes back to me.
“A couple things,” I take Maxwell’s hand as we walk toward the rocky outcroppings on the beach. “Look, don’ttouch. We’re here to observe and that’s it. And respect the ocean. It may be low tide, but water has power, and sometimes there are sneaker waves that can lead to undertows.”
“Respect the ocean,” he repeats, squeezing my hand. “Look, don’t touch. I think I can handle that. I can still touch you though, right?”
“And we leave no trace,” I ignore his comment but press my body the tiniest bit closer to his. “Other than respecting the ocean, that’s most important. We leave nothing behind.”
“Got it.”
“And don’t be disappointed if we don’t see anything. When I did my research, we spent a lot of time traipsing across the beach for a whole lot of nothing.”
“Hey,” Max stops walking and draws me against his chest. “I’ve got you with me. There’s nothing to be disappointed about.”
Just as I lean forward to kiss him, my phone rings in my pocket. Max pulls away.
“Answer it,” he says, as if he – like everyone else lately – knows something I don’t.
“Hello?”
“Sutton,” a deep, vaguely familiar voice greets me when I answer the unfamiliar phone number. “This is Adam Powell.”
Adam Powell.
He’s spent the last four years coaching in the Philadelphia Founders’ organization. We’ve met a handful of times, and even coached together during the All-Star game back in July.
“Adam. What can I do for you?”
“Sutton, I have a proposition for you.”
Epilogue
Sutton
Home.
