Page 13 of The Moments You Were Mine
Fallon ran a finger along the stubble coating my jaw, and the look in her eyes hauled me into unsteady seas beside her. Ones that would require every ounce of strength I had to keep my feet planted in the sand. I wouldn’t drop the boat. I wouldn’t give in. I’d carry it to shore, even if no one was there to see what it cost me to do it.
Even if it cost me her.
Chapter Five
Fallon
DIAMOND
Performed by Martina McBride and Keith Urban
TWO AND A HALF YEARS AGO
HIM: This has gone on long enough. Stop ghosting me.
HER: …
HIM: Ducky, I’m serious. This is bullshit.
Moonbeams fractured along the waves crashingonto the sand while a warm breeze whipped around me. The stars were barely visible with the nearby city lights bleeding into the sky, and I suddenly ached for the dark canvas I’d see standing at the lake in Rivers. I missed the ranch. I rarely let myself acknowledge it these days, devoting myself wholly to the world I’d built in San Diego.
College was a once-in-a-lifetime experience, and I’d promised my dad I’d explore it to its fullest. But there were days when I felt like I’d lost a piece of myself to make it happen.
More in the months since Parker and I had stopped texting.
Well, since I’d refused to message him.
Licking my wounds after that stupid night at the bar by refusing to talk to him had become an ugly reflex. One I was sure hurt me more than it hurt Parker.
The simple truth was I missed him even more than I missed the ranch.
Even more than I missed Maisey. Only Parker and my childhood best friend understood all the nuances of my complicated life. Only they saw the real Fallon. For the millionth time since we graduated from high school four years ago, I wished Maisey had come to San Diego with me rather thanattending a university up north.
Behind me, someone bumped up the volume of the music at the bonfire, shattering the serenity of the night. JJ’s laugh boomed through the air. It was loud, addicting, and charming. He had a way of luring people to him and making them feel like they were the absolute center of his attention.
We’d been together for almost a year before we’d broken up, supposedly because I wouldn’t sleep with him. But we’d both known that hadn’t been the real reason. The real reason had been the way I’d looked at Parker whenever he hung out with us at the beach.
After the breakup, JJ and I had made it through the first part of our senior year as just friends, hanging out with the same crowd, surfing whenever we got a chance. But the longer I’d gone without seeing Parker, the more JJ had attempted to turn our friendship back into a relationship.
Just this month, with mid-terms behind us and after we’d started an internship at the veterinary clinic together, I’d finally agreed to start dating him again.
I’d thought it was what I’d wanted.
No, damnit. Itwaswhat I wanted.
I wanted a regular relationship. A regular guy. I wanted that JJ focus to be one-hundred-percent on me again. I desperately wanted to be the center of someone’s world.
JJ would make me his every day, whereas Parker only looked my way between deployments.
Hadn’t Parker made it clear that he’dneversay yes to me? And while it still burned all these months later, it shouldn’t. I’d had years to adjust to the fact he would never look at me the way I looked at him. Lines to Taylor Swift’s “Foolish One” swarmed through me. I had been foolish. I shook my head to try to clear it of thoughts of Parker. How could he still consume so much of my time?
As I watched the dark waves topped with sugary foam, I wished I could be on them. At least there I felt in control, just as I did when I rode my horse, Daisy. But it would be stupid to surf at night, and regardless, it was impossible as JJ had forgotten my board when he’d packed the truck today.
Had it been on purpose?
I shook my head. Of course not. There was no reason for him to keep me from surfing.
I turned, dragging my feet in the cool sand as I moved farther down the beach away from the party crowd and the celebratory mood. The bonfire noise had all but disappeared when my phone buzzed in the front pocket of my equestrian team sweatshirt. It had been buzzing off and on all day. Parker had returned from a mission. The relief I felt knowing he was home safe conflicted with the tension that came from his messages—the demands that I break my silence.
