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“Let’s get back to the swimming lesson.”
Thirteen
What the hell? I want to demand that he explain what just happened between us. I also want to demand he get back here and let me wrap my legs around him again. To touch me again. Ignite me again. But he does none of those things. Instead he looks me in the eye when he delivers the blow. “I’m not the guy you’re looking for, and neither is Cooper.”
“Okay…”
“You’re not having sex this summer, Arden.”
“I never said?—”
“I know, but I just have to make myself clear.”
“Umm—”
“There will be plenty of time for that when you get to college. Find someone worthy of your body.”
“And that’s not you?” It comes out incredulous.
“No,” he bites out. And while I get what he’s saying, that he’s trying to be a good guy or some shit like that, it still sucks. Doesn’t matter that I’m used to being rejected. The wound opens fresh every single time.
For days I can’t get the interaction with Ethan out of my head . . . or off my body. It’s like his hands have imprinted on my skin. I’m no longer in a pool but I’m still treading water, lost in that moment when he was going to kiss me. I’m sure he wanted me as much as I wanted him. But that was three days ago and he hasn’t said a word to me since. He hasn’t even looked in my direction. It’s like I no longer exist.
I’m lost and confused and feeling more than a little stupid. And I’m also angry. Angry because why did he have to be like that? Why even put me in that position?
When I told Cooper I was a virgin he didn’t think it was a bad thing, not even flinching. But Ethan? Ethan physically removed me from his body and then from his presence. I’m not sure which hurts worse.
It doesn’t matter. I have work to do and I don’t need to be thinking about this. He’s not good for me. He’s right that I’m young. I’m only eighteen and have so much life still ahead of me. College, and everything that comes with it. Ethan has already finished graduate school and is ready to move into a totally different stage of life––a career he was groomed for since infancy. A billionaire father to make proud.
So I do what I’ve been trying to talk myself into since I almost drowned. I finish my work and head down to the beach by myself. I’m not stupid enough to get in the water again, but I haven’t been back since I nearly lost my life and I need to face that beach again.
It’s a new day. I’m a different person. It’s going to be fine.
I take the steps slowly, my beach bag slung over my shoulder and stuffed with a blanket to lay on and a fresh, albeit gently used, book from my collection. I’ve been reading so much this summer that I’m nearly through them all and have plans to visit the closest bookstore on my next day off. I would go to the library but I’m not sure how that works for non-residents, and I don’t need yet another reminder that I don’t fit in here.
Unlike last time, the beach isn’t deserted this evening, but it’s not crowded either. Only a handful of homes have access to this stretch of paradise. That’s the perk of being a one-percenter. Or in my case, working for them. They can take something like a public beach and make it hard to access for everyone else, skirting the laws and essentially making it private.
I make myself comfortable and get to reading. The sun will set soon so I can’t actually be out here too long, but it’s nice to enjoy the crashing of the surf and the salty breeze sweeping over my body. After a little while, everyone clears out until the only other people down here are a young couple. They’re playing in the water together, laughing and kissing as the guy throws the girl into the waves and she comes up squealing, then diving for him in turn. They remind me of Noah and Allie from the movie The Notebook and the romantic in me hopes they make it. I imagine that one day they’ll be holding onto each other in a nursing home, reminiscing about a life well-lived and crying over their love.
I want that kind of love someday. Maybe it’s just a story glorified by Hollywood but I believe that kind of love is possible. It might even be possible for a girl like me.
I hear someone coming up behind me and turn to find Cooper. “There you go with that voyeurism thing again,” he remarks, dropping onto the blanket beside me and nodding toward the cute couple.
I roll my eyes playfully and he laughs. When I first met him I got the impression that he wasn’t the type to laugh a lot, but I was wrong. He laughs more than anyone else I’ve met this summer. It’s refreshing and completely different from his broody brother. Ethan seems to only laugh in that sarcastic scoffing way. Ethan rarely gives anyone a real smile, but when he does, it’s like the sun coming after weeks of rain.
I watch the couple for a minute, noticing the way they seem to be in sync with their movements and oblivious to me and Coop watching them. It sends a pang of longing right through my heart. I shouldn’t want that, but I do. I can’t help it. “They’re cute,” I say simply and then I frown. “How come they have no trouble in the water but I was carried out to sea?”
“Because you went out at high tide,” he explains. “The waves are a lot bigger at certain times of day. You’re lucky Ethan was even out there. We don’t normally surf this spot when the tide’s that high. It’s dangerous. Then again, Ethan hasn’t cared about putting himself in danger ever since . . .”
His voice trails off.
“Ever since Sybil?” I try.
His eyes harden and he tuts. “You know about her?”
I shrug. “All I know is that she was his girlfriend and they broke up.”
He shakes his head slowly, hair hanging around his chin as he stares off into the distance. It’s like he is seeing memories play out right in front of him. He looks so sad. “It was more than that. We all grew up together and they dated all through college. They were even engaged for a few months.”
