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No.“Yeah, that sounds nice.”What am I doing?
“Okay then, call me. I’m free next weekend.”
“Great,” Connor replied, forcing a smile. He didn’t want to hurt her, lead her on—she was too nice for that. Maybe his wanting to protect her, albeit from himself, was because there was something more to his feelings.
He leaned down to kiss her cheek, but she turned her head at the last second and pressed their lips together, before licking his bottom lip with little swipes of her tongue. As much as Connor second guessed himself and whether he was attracted to her, he had to see where it could lead. He opened against her mouth and kissed her deeper, their tongues stroking together. It was... nice, but there weren’t exactly any fireworks going off.
He broke the kiss and smiled at her. “I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t let you get inside now.”
She ran her long nails down his chest, stopping at the button of his suit pants and grinned at him. “Being a gentleman is overrated.”
“Not on a first date, it’s not.” He grasped her hand and squeezed it, stepping back again as he let go.
Confused and frustrated with himself for giving up a sure thing, he got behind the wheel and sped off. Three hours and all the back roads down to Byron Bay later, he stopped the car, cursing the situation as he got out. He breathed in the cool salty sea air and leaned against his car. Shaking his head at the stab of aggravation that hit him, Connor kicked at the grass, his shoe finding a stray rock and sending it flying in a high arc somewhere into the park. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, he looked out over the darkened beach, listening to the waves caress the shore. Instantly the weight lifted from his shoulders, freeing him.
Pulling his guitar from the back seat, he strummed it. He didn’t have a song in mind when he started playing, instead letting the notes form into a melody, the melody into songs. He found himself humming Rag’n’Bone Man’s “Skin.”The poignant words drew him in and settled deep inside. Connor’s eyes slid closed, and he played song after song.
The first rays of dawn kissed the sky warming his skin. Tilting his face up, he released a slow breath before blinking open his eyes and watching. Pinks and oranges splashed across the sky in ever brightening hues. The sun, a fiery yellow that morning, had breached the horizon sending shimmering rays across the water. The power of nature was captivating, and Connor stood transfixed as the sky changed from a pale predawn grey to a rich shade of blue he’d only ever seen above the Pacific.
A pelican waddled out onto the sand and spread its broad wings, flapping them and lifting into the air. Circling around ascending higher as it went, Connor realized that his life had returned to that state too. He was free to fly. He didn’t have to go into the bowels of hell chasing terrorists, ending the life of someone, who with a split-second judgement was deemed to be an enemy rather than an ally. There were so many regrets, so many nights of vomiting up his dinner, of wishing day break would arrive so he didn’t have to face the nightmares. But getting shot at and blown up was history for Connor, the horrors of war seemed faraway in his little patch of the world, even with the constant reminder from his PTSD. It killed him that his brothers and sisters in arms were still at it. He could never forget—he didn’t want to anyway—but he might be able to move on and start to live again. Was Miranda the person to do it with? He didn’t know, but he owed it to himself to see if a spark developed. And he deserved to be happy, didn’t he? She was clearly into him. If he could get out of his head long enough, maybe he’d realize he was attracted to her too. At least if he was really present on their next date, it wouldn’t be so damn awkward.
The early morning waves called to him, the perfect barrels beckoning. He stripped down to his boxer shorts and jogged down to the water. The surfers were already out—the waves pumping. The water hit his skin as he strode into the whitewash and he sucked in a breath. It was ice-cold.Damn.A wave began to peak and he dived under it. Rushing water surrounded him, cocooning him as he swam with powerful strokes. Still underwater, he opened his eyes, watching the wave curl into itself. Breaking through to its other side, Connor wiped the salt from his eyes and let the water swirl around him.
The issues he was working through—some small and others not so small—were washed away, momentarily lifting the weight from his shoulders. Another wave broke and Connor duck-dived under it. Breaking the surface again, he relaxed, floating in the bobbing swell. In the warm early morning sun, the blue waters sparkled around him. He slipped under another wave, once again watching it curl over him. It was mesmerizing seeing the blue water change into the surging white foam as the wave was sucked up into a peak until it crested, crashing against the shore. Breaking the surface, he shook the water off his face before running his hands through his wavy hair. His buzz cut was growing out, the prickle of the short strands no longer as sharp under his palms.
Body surfing until the rumble in his stomach was too annoying to ignore, he got out and trudged up the sand to grab his towel from his gym bag. Drying himself off, Connor watched the surfers riding the waves. Seeing nature’s power helped put everything into context for him. And it wasn’t just dating either. It was everything, his entire life plan. Levi’s birthday was coming up, and he’d been thinking about doing something for his oldest and closest friend that he’d never do himself. The problem was, it would push him into something he’d tried hard to avoid. He didn’t want to be a mechanic like his old man—too many memories circled around him when he spent a lot of time in the space. Doing his car was bad enough, but a second rebuild? He knew that fixing up the old Harley which had been languishing in pieces in Lee’s garage would be worth it. A plan began to form, and even though it wasn’t where he pictured himself going, it was good to start seeing the forest from the trees. He smiled. He could do this; he would do it.
“Good waves out there?” Connor spun at the girl’s husky voice. She was in a bikini carrying a longboard down towards the water.
“Yeah. Really clean but cold as a mother.”
She grinned at his comment and kept walking, waving as she went past and he pulled a spare set of clothes from his gym bag.
Connor stretched his legs out, propping his bare feet on the timber railing. His thongs lay discarded under the table of the beachside pub he sat in. They served a killer breakfast there. Waiting for the waitress to make her way over to him and take his order, he strummed his guitar, playing random notes in a slow melody.
“Hi,” the young waitress said, in a sweet melodic voice. Connor wondered why the owners had a child working there. “Can you really play that?” She pointed to his guitar.
“Yup, I can.” He grinned.
“Can you play something for me?”
“Sure. But can I put my order in first? I’m starving.” He jokingly clutched his belly, putting on a pained expression. She rolled her eyes, grinning, and looked at him expectantly, so Connor continued, “I just want the breakfast special with a black coffee and an OJ.”
“No worries. I’ll put it in now.” As she walked away, she tossed a shy smile over her shoulder. “So can you play me a song?”
“Will do. Who do you like, doll?”
“Taylor Swift.”
He thought about it for a moment and smiled. “‘Back to December’ it is.” One of her earlier songs, it wasn’t as big a hit as the others, but it had a beautiful melody, a great country vibe. Slow and sweet, the song told the story of regrets and doing things over, apologizing and growing up. Connor began strumming the opening chords and sung to the soulful tune. After carefully placing his coffee on the table, the waitress excitedly jumped up and down, letting out a quiet squeal.
“That’s one of my favourites. Thank you.”
Once he’d started playing, he didn’t want to stop, and no one had told him to shut up yet, so he figured it was a win. He kept going and by the end of the fifth song, the café was packed, and people were gathered around listening to him as much as enjoying their food. He totally got a kick out of performing for them.
A middle-aged lady dressed in kaftans with flowing grey hair approached him. “Hi, I’m Tracey. You met my youngest, Stella.” She pointed to her daughter waiting tables.
“Connor,” he replied, shaking her proffered hand. “Nice to meet you. Your daughter’s very sweet.”
