AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I lean into Damien. "I told Lauren about us."
He gives me a quick glance. "You did? When? Is that why she's giving me funny looks?"
"Maybe. We went into the resort bar for a while. That's when I told her. You were playing volleyball."
He chews on his cheek.
"She called it romantic and said you're pretty damned wonderful for wanting to take care of me this way."
In the light of the fire, Damien looks into my eyes, as if he's staring into my very soul. My breath catches in my throat as I stare back at him, wondering if we're going to finally tell each other how we feel.
"Damien! Hey, dude! I think the groom should play a song," Remy calls out.
The spell between us is broken. Damien grumbles good-naturedly, but swallows the last of his beer and stands up. He walks about ten feet to Remy and takes the guitar out of his brother's hands.
Remy comes next to me and plops in the beach chair where Damien was sitting.
"I didn't know he played," I murmur to Remy.
"My twin brother is a man of mystery. You have a lot to learn."
If he'll let me. If he comes back from Syria.
Damien begins to strum, and he's even better than his brother. And his voice. Lord. Where did that come from? It's pure and clear, sweet and soulful.
The first few lines of "Hey There Delilah" by the Plain White Ts soar over the crackling of the fire. Tears jump to my eyes because Damien sounds so honest, and I have to stare into the flames instead of at him.
After a few seconds I get my emotions in check, and I glance at him.
He's looking straight at me as he sings and strums.
Our eyes lock for the entire song, and it's as if my heart grows so full it could almost burst.
I love him. More than I've ever loved anyone or anything.
And he's leaving in less than a week. The weight of that—and the magnitude of where he's going—slams into me full-force.
He finishes the song, and everyone applauds. Because I'm sitting in a beach chair, I scramble to my feet, my emotions lodged firmly in my throat. I want to wrap my arms around Damien and never let go.
But by the time I take a step, I notice that he's chatting with someone. Holding back, I pretend to warm my hands on the fire while sneaking glances.
He's talking to a woman from our high school. Someone who'd been nasty those final months of our senior year. I can barely remember her name. Amy? Yes, that's it. I do recall her face, and all the old hurts replace the blissful feeling in my chest.
Now, I know Damien doesn't want anything to do with Amy. He doesn't look interested, but he's a polite Southern gentleman. But something about the fact that she's here—I hadn't noticed her before; there'd been so many people. She's probably here with one of his high school friends—makes me fold into myself.
She's taking precious moments away from us, when we have so few moments left.
He'll be gone in less than a week. It's not enough. We've run out of time. What the hell have we been doing these past three months?
"Kate, you okay?" Remy's voice slices through my thoughts.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"Then why are you crying?"
With a sniffle, my hands fly to my cheeks. Dammit, they're wet. Have I been standing here next to the fire for the last few minutes crying and alone?
"No reason. Uh, just happy. I guess." I lick my lips. "Hey, I'm going to take a walk down the beach to the jetty. Let Damien know, okay?"
