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I stop again. This time I watch her walk ahead until she notices I’m not beside her.
She turns. “What are you doing.”
“I’m sorry. I was a shitty teenager, and I wasn’t thinking about how my leaving so suddenly would make you feel. I’d only been thinking about myself. A selfish asshole who should’ve never slept with you. Bex, I didn’t mean to break your heart.”
She struts back to me, slow and concise. Darkness surrounds us. Only the stars and the half moon light our path, but I can see the outline of her face. Gone are the anger and the fear from earlier. The fear of being caught in my trap again. Fear of me hurting her. Again.
She stops in front of me. “Thank you. I was a naive teenager who knew you were leaving, but still, deep down, hoped after that night you would stay. For me. So, yes, you broke my teenage heart, but it was also over ten years ago. I forgive you.”
The words ease my soul. Ease the burden I’ve been carrying with me since the day I left.
“I forgive you too.”
Her eyes pop as round as saucers. “You forgive me? For what?”
My large steps take me beside her. I lower my mouth to the side of her head. “For seducing me by the lighthouse that night.”
I hear her gasp and continue my stroll on the beach.
“I did not seduce you.” She chases me until she catches up.
I slow my pace to stride side-by-side with her. “You did.”
“I certainly did not.”
“All sweet and innocent but sexy and knowing. I don’t even know how you convinced me to take you for a ride. I’d just had another fight with my dad, and I was so angry.”
She’s quiet for a few steps. “I didn’t ask. I just climbed on with you. I didn’t think you should be alone.”
“You probably shouldn’t have gotten on a bike with me after a fight with my dad.” The blowups between my old man and me had been dangerously violent. Looking back, I can see each of his decisions had been made out of love. And every argument from me was this rebellious teenager I’d always been. Pushing boundaries. Pushing him.
I stuff my hands in the pockets of my jeans. “I used to be so angry inside. So ready to blow this town.”
“It was a wild ride. My first time on a motorcycle and”—she inhales deeply—“it was terrifying and a rush all at the same time.” I see that love for the ride in her expression. “When we parked at the lighthouse, a rush of bravery shot through my veins, and I thought, I’m finally going to kiss this guy.”
“Finally?”
She shrugs. “I’d been thinking about it a little bit.”
“How long is a little bit?”
“Seriously?” She slants me a curious look.
“Yes.”
“You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
A loud wave crashes against the shoreline.
“Johnny, I had a crush on you my entire childhood.”
“I only really saw you for the first time that way that night.”
“That’s great.” Her arms drop in front of her, and her palms meet in an echoing clap.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.”
