Page 28 of Until Then

Eagerly, she presses the button that lowers the window, and when her dark hair whips around her face, her expression softens into one of contentment. It might be the most relaxed she’s been since she arrived.

Some of my anger dissipates as she melts into the seat and lets out a small sigh. I don’t know what drove her from LA, what’s plaguing her this way. But if the simplicity of an openwindow and wind in her hair can make her feel better, then who am I to rain on that parade?

Angling forward, she turns the volume on the radio up. “Your country music is beginning to grow on me.”

“Is it now?” Fighting a smile, I rub my hand over my mouth.

One side of her lips is turned up sardonically. “It’s not so bad. I’m open-minded.”

“Are you?”

She scoffs. “Iam. My mom always emphasized the importance of giving new things a chance. She was mostly referring to vegetables, and I still hate brussels sprouts, but the sentiment applies to many things.”

We’re quiet for the rest of the short drive, letting the music fill the silence. It’s surprising just how comfortable I’ve become in her presence.

I’m almost to my friend’s house, where I park my boat during the warm months, when she says, “Sorry for making you wait. I didn’t want to forget anything.”

Still gripping the wheel one-handed, I lift a shoulder. “It’s fine.”

She straightens, turns my way, and stares me down, practically boring a hole in the side of my head. “You honked the horn three times. I know you were pissed. Don’t even try to deny it.”

I chuckle, amused. “I thought maybe you fell asleep.”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Sure.”

I turn down the street, and as I approach the driveway, I slow the truck.

“Uh, Derrick,” Izzy says, scanning our surroundings, “I hate to break it to you, but we’re at someone’s house. Not a dock.”

“Dock’s in the back,” I explain, pushing the button to roll up her window.

Lips pursed, she looks around again. “I thought you had your own boat.”

As I park the truck off to the side, I give her a slow nod. “I do, but my buddy Brooks doesn’t, so he lets me store it here. He takes it out on occasion. Someone might as well use it, since I don’t get it out often.”

She gathers her hair behind her head and secures it with a light blue elastic from around her wrist. “I’m glad we’re getting out today. You should get to enjoy it.”

I hop out of my truck and snag my hat from the back. Izzy follows suit, then trails me to the backyard and down to the dock.

Before we board, I check the exterior of the boat for damage. When I find nothing, I step on, then hold a hand out to Izzy to help her aboard. Once I’m sure everything is in working order, I crank the engine. In the seat beside me, Izzy turns my way, hair blowing in the breeze, and grins.

In response, my stomach makes a weird cartwheeling, somersault-type motion.

A sensation I haven’t felt since I was a teenager.

The sun reflects off her dark hair, making the freckles sprinkled across her nose stand out even more.

I’m attracted to her because she’s a beautiful woman, that’s all. It ends there.

If I tell myself this enough, maybe I’ll eventually believe it.

As I guide the boat through the inlet and out to the ocean, I find myself constantly looking over at Izzy. Her joy is infectious. Her ponytail whips behind her, and little wisps of hair float around her face. Big, bug-eyed sunglasses hide part of herface. On anyone else, they’d look ridiculous, but it’s hard to deny that they suit her.

I drive around for a while before I lower the anchor and come to a stop in a calm part of the water. I took my shirt off a bit ago, the heat getting to me, and when I turn around and face Izzy fully, her brows lift above the frame of her glasses, and she takes a long, slow look.

Fuck.

I might be out of practice, but Iknowwhat that look means.

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