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I shove my glass back into the sand and look down the dark beach. My first thought is that I’ve had more to drink than I realize. But the more I look, the more it remains the same.
Her black silhouette against the moonlit water is impossible to miss. Impossible not to recognize.
She leans her head back and lets the breeze toss her long hair. I can practically feel the silky weight of it in my hands, curled around my knuckles as I bend her neck back.
Just like that, I don’t have a choice.
I stand up and walk towards her.
Rayne is standing at the shoreline, her shoes dangling from her fingers. She’s far enough away from my house that I can tell she didn’t come here to see me. Not consciously, at least. In the same way I didn’t come to the water to see her.
She’s nothing but a smudge of black and gray shadows in the murky evening, but she turns to me. I can tell she recognizes me, too.
“You never learn, do you?” I call over to her.
She sighs. “I guess not. I didn’t assume you’d be outside this late.”
I check my watch. “It’s not even ten.”
“Well, some of us have to be up early for work. It’s late for me,” she says. “And it’s dark. What are you doing out on the beach at night?”
“I could ask you the same question. Especially since you don’t even live here.” I point up to the sky. “As for me, it’s a full moon. Perfect for all the devilish deals I make.”
She nods without missing a beat. “I was wondering how someone could be so rich and so handsome. A deal with the devil makes sense.” She looks back to the water for a minute, inhaling deeply like she’s trying to soak it all in. “I’m sorry for coming here. I can go.”
“Don’t.”
She stiffens in uncertainty. “You didn’t come out here to kick me off your property?”
“I came out here to think.” I point down the beach where the whiskey tumbler I nestled in the sand is vaguely visible, glinting in the ambient light from my house and the moon. “But misery loves company. Or so they tell me.”
She studies me for a second. “You’re being weirdly nice to me.”
“I wouldn’t get used to it.”
Rayne laughs softly, but it dies just as quickly as it came. Then she turns to face the water. “I didn’t even mean to come here. I just… I needed to get away.”
She says it in a near-whisper, a tinge of pain clinging to the words. I step closer like I might be able to shield her from whatever she’s running from. “Get away from who?”
“My sisters,” she sighs. “Their husbands. Everything. It’s just family drama. Same as always.”
“Then you came to the right place.” I hold out my hand.
Rayne stares at it like I might be holding one of those trick electric buzzers in my palm. “You know how to fix my family drama?”
“I know how to fix everything.”
I watch her mull over the offer, turning it inside out for every possibility, every consequence. In the end, she must decide I’m worth it. She presses her hand into mine and lets me lead her back up the beach to where I was sitting. I take a seat and hold the whiskey out to her.
“Drinking?” she asks with a choked laugh. “That’s your remedy?”
“That, or the view,” I explain, gesturing towards the onyx waters beyond. “I find they work best together. But take your pick.”
She laughs again. It’s the saddest sound I’ve ever heard. “I’ll take the view. I’ve had enough drinking for one night. I still have to drive home.”
“Since when do you have a car?”
Rayne chews on her lower lip, biting back a mischievous smile. “Since I stole Mitchell’s keys and took off.”
