“Tell me what?” I jerked back, feeling my heart jump into my throat. That combination of words was usually never good.
He must have sensed the uneasiness in my voice, because he offered me a faint smile. “It’s nothing bad. I’ve just had a hard time figuring out how to tell you.”
“What is it?” I asked, feeling my heartbeat slow.
He closed his eyes and dunked his head under the water, then came back to the surface and pushed his wet hair out of his face.
I splashed him again. “Come on, spit it out.”
Brooklyn splashed me back, and when I closed my eyes, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him. His warmth engulfed me.
“Natalie,” he said in a breathy voice. “I think that I, um . . .”
He closed his eyes and sighed, and every nerve I had shuddered in anticipation.
Suddenly a group of raised voices penetrated the night air, growing louder as they came closer.
“Shit,” Brooklyn hissed as he pulled me to the edge of the pool. He hoisted himself out, and then reached down and lifted me out of the water with ease. Scrambling to wrap me in a towel he pulled from a chair with one hand, he grabbed our clothes with his other hand and yanked me toward the gate. We ducked behind a row of bushes as we bolted back to the hotel suite in only those stolen towels.
We made it back to our room, laughing and chests heaving as we tried to catch our breath.
“Well, trying not to get caught is half the fun,” Brooklyn said. He fumbled around the pockets of his shorts for his wallet.
“Hey.” I bit my lip. “What were you going to tell me before?”
Brooklyn cleared his throat. “Nothing. It wasn’t that important.”
He gave me a weak smile before turning around and retreating into the suite. A shiver ran through me as water dripped off my body. Maybe it wasn’t that important, but when it came to him, something made everything feel important.
Twenty-four
Morning crept up slowly on me as I stirred awake, blinking a hazy sleep out of my eyes. Light filtered into the room through the blinds on the window, sending streaks of dusty sunlight onto the bed, and I needed a moment to remember where I was waking up. I rolled over to see an empty space beside me, only an imprint where Brooklyn’s body had lain so close beside me. The sheets still radiated with his warm scent.
I made my way out to the common area and felt a gust of cool, salty air. The doors to the balcony were open, and Brooklyn leaned on the railing, looking out at the ocean.
“Hey, you,” I said as I approached him.
“Hey, yourself.” Brooklyn snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me in close to him. It was amazing how at home I had become in his arms, letting his warmth and his fresh, clean scent consume me.
The sun hung high over the ocean, decorating the waves with glints of gold and white. A comfortable quiet consumed the space, with nothing to hear but the faint sloshing of the ocean.
“It’s so pretty out here,” I said.
“It is.” He gently kissed the top of my head. “Not as pretty as you, though.”
I nuzzled in closer to his chest, and felt a smile pull at my lips. I wondered for a moment if this was really how it was going to be. Mornings on the ocean, coffee and soft kisses, warm bodies and the fluttering sensation I got in my stomach every time he smiled at me.
Or maybe it was all an illusion. A trick my mind was playing on me to deflect me from the inevitable crash. I tried not to give it credence, but that didn’t mean it wasn’tthere—the constant threat of his relapse crept in the shadows of my mind, only exposing small bits of itself and making me wonder if he could handle another collapse, or if we’d collapse too. I shook my head, desperate to expel it all from my mind. It had no place here, and I wouldn’t let it stay.
A knock at the door of the suite disrupted the brief lull of peace.
“I got it!” Stella burst from her room in yoga pants and a sports bra. Brooklyn whipped his head around when he heard Alec’s voice at the door.
“Brooklyn, you need to learn to pick up your phone.” Alec strode into the common area of the suite, head up and posture rigid like a machine. He slid a bag of golf clubs off his shoulder and let them clatter to the floor. “Our tee time is in a half hour.”
“Shit,” Brooklyn hissed.
Alec’s lips twitched downward into a slight frown, which was about as much emotion as he could muster. He raked a chunk of curly hair off his forehead. “You forgot, didn’t you?”
