Page 23 of Tell It To The Waves

I open my parents' door and stand in the doorway, looking at the mess. Looking at the patio door, I wonder how a huge sliding glass door would look, letting you take in the view from anywhere in the bedroom. Rolling my eyes at my own thoughts, I shut the torn-up room behind me.

Stevie still croons throughout the house, giving me the energy I need to finish everything. Fumbling through my tote for my phone, I message Kai.

Do you have anyone who could pick up all these donations?

As soon as I hit send, his bubbles pop up, showing he’s typing.

I actually do. Let me get a hold of them and see if they’re available today; if not, tomorrow.

Thank you, Kai.

I continue to remove everything from the cabinets, piling it in the middle of the kitchen, when my phone chimes.

Picking it up, it’s Kai.

They can be there about four if that works for you?

Smiling because I feel like I’m getting accomplished at something.

That will work, thank you again.

Looking at the time on my phone, I have another hour until they should be here. There is a lot I want to donate, mostly all the cottage stuff, but some things I can’t part with.

Still in my sundress, but now barefoot, I busy myself until there is a knock on the door. “Dang it,” I moan out; they’re early.

Swinging the front door open, I halt immediately when I make eye contact with Bohdi.

We both stand there looking at each other. Me in contempt and him, I can’t read his face anymore.

“What do you need, Bohdi? Your fiancé already came here and told me what she thought.” When I say fiancé, he coils into himself a bit.

“That’s why I came.” Something I can’t pinpoint laces his thick voice. It’s so much gruffer now that he is older, more mature.

Leaning on the doorframe, I ask, “Why’s that?” I lift my eyebrows, ready to hear his words.

He places his hand in his pants pocket. “She had no right to come over here. And I’m sorry.”

“It looks like everyone condones her behavior. She’s an adult; we’re not kids anymore.” I ooze annoyance.

“I know.”

“Maybe you should get back to her. We don’t want her freaking out again.” I go to close the door, but his hand keeps me from shutting it fully. “Just go, Bohdi,” I plead.

He uses his strength to push the door wider. “Nothing’s been the same.”

My eyes widen, fixing to speak; he cuts me off. “We were just kids, August. We had no clue what we were doing.”

I nod because I don’t know what to say. I just want him to go away. Being this close to him wakes something up that I forced down all those years ago. Because when I left here, it wasn’t because I wasn’t in love with Bohdi; it was because I was so sad and depressed; I thought everyone would be better off. I couldn’t even think of a future, and that wasn’t fair to him or anyone. “Please,” comes out as a quiet whisper. “Go home.”

In a flash, his hand reaches out to me, his thumb caresses my lips, and then down to my chin, leaving a fire in its wake, as the Edge of Seventeen plays. He turns and leaves me standing there, watching his retreating back. My hand comes up, touching the place his fingers just seared me. Closing the door and locking it, I’m in a complete daze, wandering to the sofa. My head is spinning.What just happened?I want to run, to leave Driftwood Bay, but I can’t. I need to get this stuff done, then I can go.

I stay on the sofa, ignoring my ringing phone until a knock at the door jars me. “Please be them.” I hope out loud, walking to the door. I can breathe when I see two workers and their box truck behind them.

“Ms. Graft?” The taller man asks.

“Yes, please come in.” I open the door wider for them. “Everything on the kitchen floor is to be taken, then also in the bedroom on the right. It’s all in a pile, and if you can take the bed too, that would be perfect.” My body still hums from the encounter with Bohdi. Leaving the men inside, I go to the deck. My gaze ventures out to the ocean. I have to sit. I’m so confused. Confused is an understatement.

My fingers, of their own accord, keep tracing Bohdi’s path. The feel of him on me for the first time in so many years; that touch wakes something up inside me. How many times did those fingers caress my whole body, giving pleasure to it countless times? The way his muscles would cord when he would insert a finger in me.