Page 2 of Learning to Love

“You’re a meme now, bro. Saw it the other day, Sam’s new girl. Picture of a seagull.” He laughs so hard, I think he’s going to choke. Maybe Iwishhe’s going to choke. I scowl at him, then I spot Ellie in a corner talking with some girls. She's a bit shorter than the others, but she looks stunning, and I stare a bit longer than I should.

Paddy slides closer, looks the same direction as me. “Ah, so that’s how the wind blows, bro. Alright, alright. Good one.” He picks up the cooked meat, expertly lays it on a platter, and pushes it towards me. “Time forkai.”

Nope, it’s time togo.The wind might push me towards Ellie the sea goddess - hell, she might even command the ocean winds to blow. But I can’t follow. Not her. Not anyone. Not right now.

***

Ellie

If Gracie doesn't stop trying to set me up with random guys, I'm going to change my name and move to a different town. Take an active interest in my life, my ass. It was bad enough last week when she set me up with ... Marcus? Mark? Methuselah? See, I can't even remember! But this. This is almost like betrayal because I'm sitting next to THE Sam Northcroft, Olympic sailor (and salad maker, apparently), and he's not saying a word.

Earlier in the kitchen, when he looked at me with those smouldering eyes and said he’d have remembered me if we met before, I felt like we were THIS close to kissing. Now it's more like we’re oceans apart.

I jump from the table, pull Gracie into a corner, lean in close. “Do you seriously think to hook me up with an Olympian?”

Gracie held her hands up, palms to the sky. “Why not? He’s in his early thirties, so not too much older than you. And he’s VERY single.”

“VERY single. So there are degrees of singleness?”

Gracie nods. “Of course there are.”

“Are there levels, then, like we’re in a video game? Level One when you’re just out of a relationship. Level Two means you’re ready to date. And Level Three is … what? Casual dating? What level am I?"

"The level where you return to the table and talk to the very nice, very attractive, VERY single man."

I grunt, but return.Verysingle, huh? That likely means he is the no-commitment type. Makes sense. He's a sailor, not often on land. He probably doesn't have a pet. Or a plant. Or socks. Maybe he does have socks. He does appear on TV occasionally. How would he get on with Daisy? And more importantly, do I care?

What he does have is the ability to make me weak at the knees whenever I think of him. He’s not my usual type, if I have a type. I scan his profile. Too rugged, too tall, too windswept. Justtoo much. And toolittlecommitment. Why Gracie thinks we would make a good fit, apart from the fact we’re both single, I’ll never know, but the attraction is definitely there. I’ve not felt attraction like this in … ever. But attraction means nothing. Right? But what if it means something? I’ll never know unless I try. What woman in her right mind would pass up a chance, no matter how small, with an Olympian? I gather my courage. Time to test the waters. “Hey stranger, we meet again.” I’m not good at flirting like Tayla. She would have had him lusting after her by now.

“Hey yourself.” He fixes his blue-gray gaze on me, then turns away quickly. Why is he so skittish? Am I making him as nervous as I’m feeling?

“How do you know Paddy and Gracie? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

He puts down his drink, and seems to relax a fraction. I get a glimpse of that crooked smile again. “I’ve known Paddy since we were kids. We went to the same school. Life got in the way, but recently our paths crossed again. He’s a good one.”

The chatter around us seems to increase, and instinctively we move closer to each other on the bench. Don’t know what it is, his scent, the nearness of him, is maddening. I want more.

He’s quite close now. I wonder if he’ll make a move, but he seems so calm and collected, like nothing can ruffle him.

“How do you know them?”

“Friends of friends. Gracie is mates with my flatmate Tayla. She couldn’t come here today. She’s at a retreat.” I can’t stop babbling to keep the conversation going, yet his gaze never falls from mine. He watches me with quiet intensity, like every word coming from my mouth is a gem to treasure. We’re surrounded by lots of people, but it feels like we’re in a world of our own.

“What sort of retreat? Yoga, herbal teas, essential oils?” He smiles and makes a wide gesture encompassing all that stuff.

I bristle and turn to my plate feeling stiff. “Yoga retreat.” It’s clear from his dismissal he considers “all that stuff” airy-fairy, but it’s dear to Tayla, so it’s dear to me. I sniff and lift my chin.

“I’m not knocking it! My friend Corey’s into that sort of stuff.” He chuckles. “They’re probably bound to meet at some point.”

Through a haze I realize he’s talking about his friend and sailing partner Corey Fine. From what I’d heard, Sam’s like the Yin to Corey’s Yang. One’s quiet, broody, and awkward. The other one is cheerful, always puts a smile on the faces of everyone he meets.

Sam intrigues me, from his deep silences, to his eyes. They look like they carry a thousand secrets. And I want to know every single one of them. “Maybe we should set them up. They could put those essential oils to good use.” I half laugh, half groan, mortified. My sense of humor is going to send him running for the ocean.

He just smiles wistfully and looks at his drink. “It’s time for me to head off. I’ll see if Paddy needs me for anything. Otherwise, I guess I’ll see you around.”

He stands and panic rushes through me. What if I never see him again? Asking Gracie for his number would be so embarrassing.

Paddy strides across the room and hangs an arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Leaving already, bro? That was fast. Plus, you’re leavingalone.” He winks at me.

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