Page 63 of Chasing Clouds

Before Ali, I had never heard of Anna Maria Island, and I don’t know if that’s a bad thing or good. It’s bad because, of all the beaches I’ve been to in my lifetime, this one is by far the most beautiful, and it’s quite possible I never would have found it without her. It’s good, though, too, because it’s like the best-kept secret ever. There are no large chain hotels, no big attractions, just a simple little sleepy beach town filled with eclectic shops, some amazing restaurants, and the blue-greenest water I’ve ever seen.

In New York, the air smells dirty. In Savannah, the air smells like the paper mills. In Tampa, the air smelled humid, but here on the island, it smells of salt water. It’s head clearing and soul cleansing.

On Fridays during our stay, Reid drove back up to Tampa to attend the weekly team offseason meeting, and I used that time to plan out what is going to happen next. I’ve done my research, from the business name and how to file for an LLC to website design companies and launching social media pages to promote the work I’ve already done. I have given thought to a storefront, but that part of my vision is still fuzzy. I can better decide after scouting locations once I’m back in Savannah. So, for right now, I’ll continue to consign pieces and advertise to restore and make custom pieces. Because of all this, I feel more excited than I do anxious about what is awaiting my return, and that’s how I know it’s time to go. We can’t stay here forever, and I don’t even want to. I do love my family, I love my workshop, and I love how Reid gave me this. I still catch myself wondering why he did it; maybe one day he’ll tell me.

The sand shifts next to me as Reid sits down. I don’t take my eyes off the horizon, because if I do, if I look into his handsome face, I’ll change my mind. It’s silent around and between us except for the water lapping on the shore and the hum of the wind dancing through the sea oats surrounding us.

“Hey,” he says, looking at me. My hair blows in the breeze, and he reaches up to tuck it behind my ear.

“Hey,” I say back, my eyes slipping shut at the touch of his fingers.

I’ve been living in a fairy tale, and I know it’s time to face reality.

When I first got to Reid’s, I asked myself two questions: who am I, and what’s important to me? I may still be figuring out who I am, but at the end of the day, I know what’s important is living my life for myself. Those who truly know me and love me have all said it, especially Clare, and it wasn’t that I couldn’t make my own decisions before; I just thought I was being kind and selfless. But, even though my intentions were always meant to be good, truth is, no one cared. I wasn’t appreciated or valued; I was being used. Well, no more.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and rumbly.

“I will be.” I know that’s the truth. People can’t hurt you if you don’t allow them to.

Stretching his legs out and crossing his ankles, he puts his hands behind him in the sand and leans back casually.

Glancing over, I let my eyes drift up from his bare feet to his unshaven face. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt and navy blue athletic shorts, his hair is sticking up everywhere in the breeze, and he looks perfect—so perfect my stomach clenches with how much I wish this were real . . . that in the end, we were real.

“What are you thinking about?”

My eyes jump to his face; his brows are lowered and he’s frowning.

“At the moment, sunsets,” I tell him, looking back out toward the water to hide what I’m feeling. “They’re so pretty and feel so calm. Sunrises always make me excited for a new day, make me want to get up and conquer the world. Sunsets make me want to slow down to enjoy the moment as it winks good night. Honestly, I don’t know which I like more. They’re both beautiful.”

He chuckles. “You do know you don’t have to pick one over the other. You can love them both.”

I smile with him. “Yeah, I guess. I think it’s just ingrained that we have to choose. Did you ever play this or that as a kid? Winter or summer? Beach or mountains? Blue or green? Hamburger or hotdog? You always had to pick one, it could never be both.”

He doesn’t say anything, just watches me, his long eyelashes sweeping down over the soft skin under his eyes when he blinks. He’s so beautiful.

“Sunrise or sunset? I think you’re right—I do love them both.”

“I usually am right.” There’s humor in his voice as he bumps his shoulder against mine.

“Reid, why did you do all this for me?” I must have asked at least a dozen times.

He doesn’t answer, just shrugs his shoulders.

I lean in, and he bends his head to let me kiss him. His lips are soft, warm, and so familiar, and now it’s just natural to be affectionate with him. He doesn’t seem to mind, either; since the day of the boat ride, we’ve both been pretty insatiable.

Pulling back, he takes his time and studies my face. Whatever he finds, it causes him to look away and let out a deep sigh.

“So, it’s time to go home?” He bends his knees so he can bury his toes.

“Can’t stay here forever.” I shift a little to face him and cross my legs under me.

“No, I suppose not.” He sounds resigned, sad.

“Although, if I had to pick a place for forever, this would be it.”

He nods then tilts his head to look at me, brown wisps of hair fluttering on his forehead.

“Are you ready?” His concern is so genuine, his green eyes so seeking, my throat tightens with emotion.