Page 75 of Rum Sips and Salty Lips

I smile my way through dinner, and even though he doesn’t comment on it, Orion knows something is wrong.

“What if I stay over?” he asks as we’re washing dishes.

“I get up earlier than you do,” I argue, putting a plate in the dishwasher.

“Not much earlier most days. And tomorrow I have an early morning charter.”

“It’s better this way,” I say. “We’ll both sleep better alone.” I didn’t like sleeping in the same bed as Hamilton. I couldn’t relax with another person there, hearing his breathing and the tiny movements he made while he slept. I assumed Orion would be the same. But the one night we spent together, I slept like a rock. I took a risk when I asked him to stay that night. I didn’t realize how close I had let him in. But now I can’t risk it again.

He turns off the sink and crosses to where I’m standing against the counter. He cradles my face in his hands and presses gentle kisses to my lips. None of them last long, but each one is soft and perfect.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He gives me one long, final kiss.

I might be the only woman he’s with, but this is temporary. We can’t burn this hot for long.

A week later,I’m exhausted from too many nights staying up late with Orion. Logically, if he stayed over, I could drift off a bit between rounds and it wouldn’t be so bad. But I kick him out or leave before he can bring it up again. I’m afraid my boundary will push him away, but it hasn’t yet.

Today I couldn’t focus at the office the way I needed to. I curse Orion for being a distraction I can’t control. I head home and find a car parked between our homes. It has the generic look of a rental and I wonder if someone got lost trying to find their vacation house.

A man and a woman stand in Orion’s driveway. “Hi,” I call. “Can I help you find something?” It’s the neighborly thing to help, and I’m feeling a little territorial over his house.

“Hi,” the woman responds, stepping toward me. Her shoulder-length curly hair is rapidly frizzing in the humidity. “This is my brother’s place. We’re trying to surprise him but he’s not home or answering his phone.”

I freeze. I only know Orion has a sister because Alex was the best man in her wedding. Which means the man next to her is close friends with Alex. They are complete strangers to me. I might cross paths from time to time with them in the future, but they won’t be fixtures in my life. It’s not like Orion will ever bring me home to meet his family. I don’t have to be anything to them. I can be me. Or at least the me I am with Orion.

This could be fun.

“His name is Orion. Do you know him?” she continues. I must have stared at her in silence for long enough that she kept talking.

“Arrogant face? Likes to talk about his boat?”

She looks to her husband. “Sure, sounds like him.”

“He’s kayaking. He’ll be back soon. Want to wait at my place for him?” I gesture to my house

“Oh, we don’t want to impose.”

“We can head to Paradise.” Her husband holds up his phone, indicating he figured out how close the bar is to us.

“Don’t worry about it. Like I said, he’ll be back soon and this way you can experience for yourself how cheerful he is when he’s back from the water. I’m Carina,” I say, already walking toward my house. I’m thinking too much about the sweat on her brother’s body and can’t look at her.

“I’m Brooklynn,” she says. “This is my husband, Spencer.”

“Nice to meet you both.” I open the door and we’re immediately greeted by the cool air.

I’m used to this feeling. I walk to so many places instead of driving because it’s better for the environment. But sometimes I wonder if the trade-off is worthwhile considering the number of showers I take or how much laundry I do. Someone has to have done the math. No, I tell myself—I’ve made my choices and I can’t spend forever recalculating them. As tempting as it may be.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” I offer. “I have water, tea, and I can make some lemonade if you want.”

“Water would be great. I’m sure Orion will take care of us when he gets back,” Brooklynn says. “I don’t want to keep you from your day.”

“Oh, it’s fine. I’m working from home today. I am offering this in exchange for embarrassing stories about Orion.” I hand her a glass of water with a look I hope conveys I will help if she does.

She looks at me and then at her husband. “How do you know him again?” she asks. “Apart from being neighbors?”

I doubt he’s said anything to her about me. That is our bargain. I asked for silence, and so far he has given me everything I want.

My face remains neutral. Something I’ve practiced from years of keeping my thoughts to myself and teaching yoga. I don’t even know why this hurts. It’s not like I’ve told my family about him. But it’s a reminder I mean nothing to him.

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