Page 10 of Sea La Vie
“Kids,” she mutters with a shake of her head. She adjusts the flannel tied around her waist and peers through the windows again.
The bell above the door jingles right as the sun shines perfectly in my face, temporarily blinding me from anything above shoulder height. A man walks in with jeans stretched perfectly around muscular thighs and a black Henley pulled tight over broad shoulders. When he turns around at one of thebookshelves, the sun dips behind a cloud, and I blink hard to regain my bearings.
“Eden,” I whisper, my heart a thundering mess in my chest, clearly choosing to betray me and my strict command of steering clear of the guy pulling books off the shelves and scanning them. “Do you remember Tate?”
Eden dries a mug then sets it on the counter. “TheTate? Tate Matthews?”
“Yes,” I hiss. “He’s back in town.”
Eden’s eyebrows shoot up as he ambles up to the counter with a book under his arm.
“Morning, Lainey.”
“Morning.” Eden raises her eyebrows in amusement at my one word answer. Tate was so much fun when we were kids, always up for an adventure. Every year on May thirty-first, he’d show up with his sister, ready to spend the summer with his grandpa. When they left at the end of every August, I wasn’t the only one who was bummed—Henry and Huck were always sad, too. Memories from the last time I saw him come together in my mind as he scans the chalkboard menu behind the counter.The treehouse. The storm. His parents.
Then, my mind drifts to the night of our fight…the night everything changed. I had pushed those memories as far away as I could and locked them up tight. A twelve year friendship, gone in the matter of minutes, because of a stupid fight.
When I saw him last night for the first time, I almost couldn’t believe my eyes. A large part of me wanted to throw my arms around his shoulders—much larger and broader now as a man—and show him all around town. I wanted to take him to Pirate Island and show him that our old treehouse was still standing. I wanted to sit down and catch up and talk until the early morning hours under the stars on the beach like we used to. And, as much as I hated to admit it, I wanted to get a glimpse of thosenew biceps he’s sporting now. Tate was always a cute kid, and he turned into an even cuter teenager. But now, there aren’t appropriate words for how attractive he is.
His shoulders take up most of a doorframe and taper down into a narrow waist, and I just know there are rock solid abs under that shirt. His biceps bulge, even when he’s not trying, and if that wasn’t enough, his eyes…oh gosh his eyes. They’re so dark it’s hard to tell the irises from his pupils, and so mysterious that it’s hard to look away. Add in his dazzling smile behind full lips, and I caught myself thinking about him a lot after I went home last night.
But the smaller, more reasonable part of me, remembered that he never once tried to reach out after our fight. Not a phone call. Not even a letter. And as silly as it is, it still hurts. We had spent every summer foryearstogether and then…nothing.
He also screams “city” now. Not my type at all; not that I know what my type is, exactly. In a town this tiny, I’m not the most experienced in dating. But I know a clean-cut city boy who can’t change his tire isn’t it—right? Not that I’m thinking of Tate that way.
He chuckles. “Nice to see you, too. I didn’t know you worked here.”
“I don’t. My best friend owns the place.” Eden gazes from him to me then smirks.
“You two know each other? Tell me more.” Eden asks, playing dumb. She moved in with her grandma here when she was in highschool after bouncing around between family members over the years after her mom ran off. She’s a couple years younger than me, and the same age as Henry. When we learned she was pregnant with Sam, we immediately brought her into the family, and she and I became fast friends.
Eden also happened to move here right when Tate went away to UCLA, and she was the sturdiest shoulder to lean on during my heartbreak.
I roll my eyes. “He got himself in the ditch last night, and I had to change his tire because he didn’t know how.”
“I know how to change a tire,” he mutters, cheeks flushing. “I mean…I could’ve figured it out if I would’ve had enough cell phone service to get YouTube to load.”
“Rough stretch of road for cell phone service,” Eden sympathizes with a soft smile.
“I see you ditched the suit,” I say, stealing one last glance at his muscled shoulders.
“Yep,” he says. “Thankfully I found this in my gym bag. I walked down to Sid’s this morning and got it out of my trunk. Where could I grab a few things?”
I notice he hasn’t explained why he didn’t have a bag with him and why he seemingly left the city in such a hurry. I point across the street. “That’s your best bet unless you want to take a day trip to Morehead City.”
Tate’s gaze follows my finger, and he squints against the sun until he makes out the thrift store. He nods, then turns back to the counter. “Thanks. Can I get a Red Eye?”
He doesn’t even grimace at the suggestion of wearing used clothes. His suit was so perfectly tailored to his body and was definitely not from the JCPenny clearance rack, so the thought of Tate being okay with thrift store clothes is a little shocking. Although, what other options does he have? It’s not like we have any department stores, let alone a Walmart, in this town.
I’d really like to ask him what had made him so pressed to leave town in such a hurry that he didn't even grab a toothbrush, but I decide I don’t care. Or, at least that’s what I tell myself.
“Any news from Sid yet?” I ask, instead.
“Yeah. It’s not looking so great. Apparently no one in any of the surrounding towns carries any extra parts for an Audi so he had to order it,” he says.
“I never would’ve guessed,” I say, sarcasm edging its way into my voice.
“It’s okay,” he assures me with a shrug. “I forgot how much I love it here. I don’t mind staying. Even Lucille is starting to grow on me.”
