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His massive shoulders lift in a shrug. “Maybe. It’s park land though. So, they can come, but this spot won’t change. Here, give me your ankle strap.” He leans over and holds my board next to his, the gentle sway of the water lifting us in slow, easy waves.
He attaches the Velcro cuffs together, then, with way more grace that a man his size should have, he climbs onto my board behind me.
The sun’s slipping low on the horizon, scattering the sky in a sherbet pastel rainbow of pink and gold. I settle back into him, the water lapping along our legs, the damp skin of my back against the hot skin of his chest, his big thighs pressing in against mine. His hand rests on my hip, and because I can, because I know, finally, that he won’t pull away, I slide my fingers through his and pull it around to rest on my belly. I get to hold hands with Mylo whenever I want now. It sends a flutter through me. “Thank you. This place is really special.”
His lips find the spot behind my ear, his beard dragging against my neck. “It’s a good place.”
The sky. The untouched cove. Us. It’s like we’re the only two people in the world. There isn’t even a boat between us and the horizon. “A perfect place.”
His arms squeeze me a little tighter. I trail my free hand over his forearm, the ridges of his scars uneven against the pads of my fingers. After he shut me down on the roof last week, I haven’t brought them up again. That doesn’t mean I haven’t wondered. A lot. Awholelot. The scars are important, they’re part of him, and the tattoos must represent something big, too. You don’t get times and dates inked onto your skin if they’re not important to you.
I sigh out the unease that comes whenever I let myself wonder about his reasons for not sharing, then breathe in his musky, beachy man smell, and remind myself that this is new.We’renew. He doesn’t have to tell me everything about himself. I absentmindedly trace around the circular face of one of the cracked watches, then stare out at the sun where it’s hanging lazily just above the ocean.
“What’s on your mind, Mac?” He presses a kiss to the back of my neck, rough beard to soft sun-touched skin.
“Nothing.” I turn my face, smiling what I can only hope is an easy smile. I don’t want to be the girl that won’t let things lie, and I don’t want to ruin this moment like I did last week on the roof. The past is the past. I have his now. “Everything is perfect.”
He kisses my temple and tightens his arms around me. “You can talk to me, you know.”
But that’s not exactly true. I get to hold his hand and sleep beside him, paddle board with him and discover secret coves, I just don’t get to ask about anything that makes him tick. I shake my head. “Nothing to talk about.” I trace a short fat scar just above his wrist, then another longer one just below his elbow. “Just…” I tap my finger against his tattoo. “Thank you for this. A perfect date.”
“Kenzi,” He shifts behind me, cold water sloshing onto the board. “Spill it. What’s up?”
I shake my head. “Seriously, it’s nothing. I’m fine.” I’m not that girl.
“Mackenzie,” he draws out my name. “Don’t make me throw you overboard.” The deep roughness to his laugh has me squirming, his fingers tickling my sides have me squealing, swaying the board vicariously.
“Okay fine, the scars, I was just wondering…”
The effect is instant.
He sighs long and hard, slips his hands from where I’ve got them clutched at my waist, and drops one leg off the side of the board into the water.
“You asked.” My grin sobers and I drag my teeth over my top lip, instantly regretting bringing it up. “That’s what was on my mind, I can’t help it.”
“Kenzi, please. I just… I don’t talk about it. Not with anyone.” His massive chest expands against my back.
I sigh, I can’t help it. “And that’s fine. Forget I said anything.” I stare at the rapidly setting sun, the deepening magentas and coppers spreading outwards across the sky and try not to overthink. To compare this to other relationships, ones I was never taken seriously enough to be let all the way in. This is different. I need to trust that this is different. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Kenzi…” His other leg drops from the board, but he doesn’t push me away, he tugs me closer into his chest, goose pimples lifting up my arms at the slip of his skin over my back. “None of it has any bearing on us, if it did, I’d talk about it.”
Just like he did with the cancer.
“Okay.” I blanket my arms over his and turn until I can see his face, but my smile feels forced. Fake. Iwantto be cool with this. I want this to be fine.
“Okay.” He scans my face for a beat before he leans in and kisses me slowly and thoroughly, but, no matter how hard I try I can’t shake the realization that he might never let me in any further than this.
We’re quiet the whole way back, the sun sinking, cerise pinks giving way to darker hues of violet and indigo.
On the ocean side of the breakers, I stop paddling and stare at his massive back. “I want this to be more than just fun. Please don’t put me in that box.”
He turns on his board, the paddle held loose in his big fingers, tawny brows slashing low. “Who said you were in a box?”
“Would you have ever told me about your cancer if I hadn’t found that letter?”
His head cocks, but he doesn’t say anything, and I know I should stop here, but… I can’t.
“That affected me… it affectedus. I just worry that your natural instinct is to keep things from me. I don’t care about the tattoos, or the scars, I just want to feel like this is more than just fun, because if that’s all this is to you I’d prefer to know now.” I press my lips together, half embarrassed, half relieved I’ve said it, laid it out there instead of pussy-footing around my feelings to save his.
