AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The question was so loud I almost covered my ears, like that would help dampen the alarm bells. I couldn’t hear anything, not the rhythmic crashing of the waves on shore, not my name slipping from his lips.
I acted on pure impulse as I turned and fled back to the beach, swimming like I was being chased by a giant sea monster intent on swallowing me whole. I scrambled onto the sand and grabbed my clothes,tugging my shirt on and not even bothering with my shorts. I wanted to get away from Cole, away from my mistake, as fast as possible. I could only see things through the lens of my panic as I rushed away from that beach. What could have been consensual and fun felt dirty and wrong, like I’d thrown myself at Cole and he’d been forced to accept it.Iwas the one to invade his privacy on the beach when he was all alone.Iforced us into the water.Ijumped on him. And maybe now that I’m thinking back, I kissed him first. I can’t remember it clearly.
I’ve replayed that night in my head over and over, trying to piece the puzzle together from different angles. Sometimes I can convince myself that Cole was equally as invested, just as turned on as I was. The moans weren’t just slipping from my lips. Other times, I get so deeply embarrassed remembering it, it feels like someone is pressing a hot branding iron to my cheeks.
I considered calling in sick the next morning, to avoid the inevitable awkwardness, but I knew it would have to happen eventually.Grab hold of the Band-Aid and rip that sucker off, Paige.
I ran through all the possible excuses on my way to the main lobby:
Cole, oh my god. I was drunk last night. Sorry if I acted strangely!
Cole, I think I sleepwalked last night!
Cole, I don’t know how to explain this, but I fell prey to aFreaky Fridaysituation. Yes, the early 2000s movie with Lindsay Lohan where two souls swap bodies, uh-huh. So if I did something—like kiss you hardcore while desperately clinging to you in the ocean—that wasn’t actually me.
Also, I was drunk.
I walked through the sliding doors toward the main lobby with shaking hands and a queasy stomach. Forgoing breakfast had been a bad idea, but the thought of forcing down even a single bite of scrambled eggs was inconceivable. Just inside, I froze and scanned the lobby, searching for broad shoulders and a familiar head of black hair. I looked past the tacky prints of sailboats, the sculpture of a swordfish that collected dust on the center table, the mom with a heavy Jersey accent telling off her kids while rubbing her temples—“Joseph Anthony! Antonia!Giana! So help me, I’ll lose my friggin’ mind if yous guys don’t stop jumping on those chairs!”
Cole was over by reception, dressed to the nines and put together like he’d just enjoyed a peaceful eight hours of sleep (propped upright in his coffin, of course). Never mind that I’d only managed thirty fitful minutes bookended by a lot of agitated tossing and turning. In the mirror that morning, my skin looked pale, and no amount of concealer could hide the dark circles under my eyes.
When he first saw me, I almost thought I saw worry play across his features, but as soon as I recognized it, it was gone. I doubted it had ever been there as he started to cross the room to get to me. I wondered if the truce he called for last night still held true in the light of day.
“Good morning, Ms. Young.”
I immediately bristled.Last names?Who was he kidding?
“Morning, Mr.Clark.”
He scanned the area of the lobby over my head and continued with a succinct announcement meant just for me. “To be clear, last night never happened.”
My face fell before I could prevent it. If he looked down, he’d witness the hurt that sank its claws into me, twisting my stomach, shredding me to pieces.
What had I expected Cole to do this morning, after I bolted away from him? Gift me a smile?Suggest a round two?
Oh god.
Clarity gnawed its way to the forefront of my thoughts. I felt like a fool.Worse.Up until then, I hadn’t hated Cole. Not atall. Deep down I knew I wanted his attention—his approval—more than anything. But “last night never happened” formed a thick sheath around my heart, so that anything Cole did or said from that moment forward only served to further my bad opinion of him.
He chose a blue tie today?That’s so like him, to spoil my favorite color.
Another all-staff email?Surely, he’s only doing it to annoy me.
I convinced myself my hard feelings at hearing his rejection only had to do with the fact that I hadn’t been the one to turn him down first.Yes, that’s it. I hated coming in second place.
So I played into that. I harnessed all those false feelings and shrugged indifferently as I replied with a nasty little “Oh thank god.”
It felt good to pretend I felt nothing but relief at hearing his words.
“Never happened,” I agreed quickly, eager to set things to rights with him. Well, as “right” as we could ever be. I imagine if we polled a group of board-certified psychiatrists, they would unanimously agree that Cole and I are dysfunctional at best, damaging on average, and at worst downright destructive. The product packaging for our relationship would warn that prolonged contact with Cole Clark or Paige Young may result in nausea, bleeding from the ears, and homicidal tendencies.
He reached up to adjust his tie, ensuring it lay directly flat in the center of his chest. Only then did he look down at me. My stomach did a little swoop and dip when our gazes met.
He gave me a quick audit, checking me over to make sure I was still in one piece after last night. Sure, yes, my limbs were intact. I wasn’t down a finger. But my insides? Total goop.
Could he tell how badly I slept? Did he notice the unkempt top bun I’d had to do because I’d collapsed into bed with my hair still wet from the ocean last night?
His mouth flattened into a disapproving line. Then he gave me clear instructions. An alibi. “You went straight back to your dorm. I was never on the beach reading—”
