Page 33 of I Saw Her First

In spite of everything that’s happened this morning, a smile tugs at my mouth. He’s probably right about that, too. I was just thinking that I’d like to spend some time outdoors.

“Okay,” I relent, finally letting a smile slide onto my lips. Wes mirrors it with a smile of his own, and I have to look away.

He’s so sweet. Trying to cheer me up after Jess was a jerk. Trying to make sure I still have a nice vacation.

But it’s more than that. He keeps nudging me to get behind the camera despite my resistance, and he’s doing it so thoughtfully—sogently—that I almost want to give in. It’s like he can see past all the masks I wear to cover the pain that hides deep inside, like he won’t be content until I take them off.

My chest is a tight knot as I gaze at my ex-boyfriend’s father. I’ll never have Weston in all the ways I want, and I’m not sure I can deal with that right now.

“Could we go… later?” I ask, sinking onto the edge of the mattress. Exhaustion sweeps over me, and I realize that I want nothing more than to crawl back into bed and not come out for a few days. To not have to face Weston, or think about what happened with Jess, or what awaits me back in the city.

“Of course. Whenever you’re ready.” He heads for the door, then hesitates, gaze lingering on me. “Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Thanks,” I say, smiling faintly. He slips from the room, and I pull the covers over my head, disappearing from the world.

14

Weston

“Iprobably should have told you this, but I have a fear of heights.” Daisy’s gaze moves from me to the rocky cliff face, then back again.

I smile. “It’s perfectly safe, I promise. I’ve walked it many times.” Admittedly, I didn’t tell her the trail is challenging in places. After she spent two days locked in her room, I was desperate to get her outside. I know she’s hurting from Jess’s careless actions, and I couldn’t bear the thought of her sitting alone in her room for a minute longer. When she finally came out this morning, I threw together some food, stuffed the Nikon and a few towels in my backpack, and casually told her I was going for a walk. I was relieved when it took little to convince her to join me. What she needs is a distraction, something to make her forget Jess, and I know that getting her to shoot is the best way.

She just doesn’t know it yet.

“But… I’m not dressed for rock-climbing.” Her gaze drops to her sundress, a beautiful, buttery yellow that makes her pale skin glow in the sun, that makes every freckle on her bare shoulders and arms stand out like constellations. She’s right, it’snot the ideal outfit for hiking across the rugged shoreline and onto the secluded beach and meadow at Sullivan’s Cove, but when she entered the kitchen this morning looking like a golden angel, I couldn’t tell her to go change. I could barely take my eyes off her, as inappropriate as it may be. I’m used to seeing her in a plain tee and black jeans at Joe’s, hair pulled back from her face, but since we’ve been away, she’s let her hair down—both literally and figuratively. She’s always friendly and upbeat at Joe’s, but this Daisy is different. More real, more raw. I’m seeing a side to her that I didn’t know was there. A side I probably shouldn’t see, and yet, I can’t make myself look away.

“You’ll be fine. We just need to be careful on the rocks.” I motion to her sensible Keds. “You’re wearing good footwear, and that’s all you need. Trust me, it will be worth it for the other side.”

She narrows her eyes, a hesitant smile playing on her mouth as if she’s considering whether to trust me. “Alright,” she says at last. “You lead the way.”

That she’s smiling at all feels like a win. I grin, hiking the backpack up on my shoulders and stepping around her to begin the journey up the jagged rock face. To our right, the cliff rises steeply to houses above; to our left, the surf pounds the rocks, sending a salty mist over us as we climb. I’ve walked these rocks so often I know the terrain well, but the surface is unstable and takes some getting used to, and I keep checking over my shoulder to make sure Daisy is okay.

We reach a particularly tricky part as we begin our descent onto the secluded beach, and after stepping off a high rock, I pause and turn to offer a hand to Daisy. She glances at my outstretched palm, then at my face, swallowing. The waves crash loudly below us, but I can’t hear anything above the roar of my pulse as her skin comes into contact with mine. Her gaze locks on me as she carefully lowers herself down the rocks, handtightening in my grip. I should be watching her step, making sure she’s steady, but I can’t tear my eyes from hers.

This is a mistake, though. She catches her foot on a rough piece of rock and loses her balance, stumbling forward. I catch her just in time, my heart hurling itself against my ribcage as I steady her.

“You okay?” I ask.

She looks up at me, wide-eyed and breathless, nodding. “Yes. Thank you.”

I release her and tear myself away, practically jogging down the path onto the sand. Anything to put some distance between us.

Daisy reaches me a moment later, a little out of breath, but smiling. “It’s beautiful here.”

I follow her gaze across the teal-colored water, shimmering in the midday sun like millions of diamonds scattered from here to the horizon. It laps at our feet, quiet and gentle in this sheltered cove, in contrast to the thundering of the surf against the rocks around the bend.

In contrast to the thundering of my heart.

I tug the backpack off and set it on the sand, near the dunes. There’s no one here for miles because there’s no direct road here. Most people prefer to swim on the main beach and don’t make the trek to this side, which is why I prefer it here. I get the vast expanse of ocean, land, and sky all to myself.

Pulling the camera from the backpack, I busy myself with removing the lens cap and pretending to polish the lens, reminding myself why we’re really here. Daisy needs cheering up after what Jess did. I still can’t believe my son was stupid enough to bring another woman home. Stupid and thoughtless. And God, when I saw Daisy in a ball on her bed after he left, fighting tears, I didn’t think—I just went to her. I was propelled to herside by a need to comfort her. In a way, I feel partly responsible. I mean, it was my idiot son, wasn’t it?

But once I’d lowered myself onto the mattress beside her, once I’d let myself touch her arm in an attempt to take back the hurt Jess had caused, I knew I’d gone too far. Because I didn’t just want to comfort her, I wanted to pull her close. I wanted to bury my face in her hair and breathe in her sweet, citrusy scent.

I shouldn’t have asked her to stay for the rest of the week. Of course I shouldn’t. But I can’t explain the panic that wound through me when she said she was leaving, and I meant what I said, that she still deserves a vacation. It felt like the least I could do for her after Jess’s behavior.

I glance back at Daisy, staring out across the ocean, lost in thought, and shame washes over me like a wave. Here I am, obsessing about my feelings for her, while she’s still hurting from my son’s actions. It might have been a few days, but that doesn’t mean she’s over it.

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