Page 100 of Fire Island
“They—well, many folks—took pleasure in my downfall. I’d finally got my shit together when your mom got pregnant with you. It was the first time since my parents died that I’d had hope.”
“And she took it all away.” He stares off into the distance.
“More like your grandparents did. But she never came back. Never sent word. Nothing. Until a month ago.”
“Jesus. That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah, it’s fucked up.”
We sip our beers, sitting in the quiet.
Father and son.
My hope races ahead of reality once again. I couldn’t rein it in if I wanted to. As I glance at Reese, I can’t help but think maybe I can pull off this second chance.
Twenty-Seven
EVIE
Cal waits for me on the jetty as Em slips his big-ass boat in beside it. I can’t sit still. One day—twenty-four hours—away from him and I’m climbing out of my skin. And I fully intend to climb him like a tree the nanosecond Reese leaves with Em.
Em moors the boat, and I’m down the steps and flying up the jetty with no care for my bag left on the cruiser. Cal’s big, wide grin splits his face. I jump up as I reach him, wrapping myself around his waist. His hands palm my face. His mouth crashes to mine.
I open, luring him in as deep as I can. So deep we can never fully recover would be just about far enough. He follows, devouring me. His hands explore my face as my own crawl through his hair. I wonder how long it will take him to notice what’s missing.
God above, I missed this man.
A voice clears behind me, and I ignore Em. This is my reward for going without my heart for one night. And no gorgeous Coast Guard big-brother type is going to steal our moment.
Cal doesn’t break either. We’re both as desperate as each other.
“Get a room,” a voice says from behind Cal, lined with the disgust that can only come from a kid witnessing their parent kissing.
I pull away, breathless.
Briefly closing my eyes for courage, I lean to one side to find Reese standing with his hands in his pockets, trying to look anywhere but at Cal and me.
And this feels weird.
I knew it would.
My stomach twists, sending my nerves aflame. A blush creeps up my neck, dousing my face in its heat.
“Sorry,” I mutter, letting my legs unravel and my feet touch the wooden surface of the jetty.
Cal turns back. “Hey, not your home, bud. You don’t insult a woman in her own home.”
Reese stares him down.
“Okay, well, here’s your bag, Miss Evie. Reese, I’m your ride, if you’re ready?”
It’s then we all notice the absence of his backpack.
“I’m good.” He simply rocks on his heels and folds his arms over his chest.
Chip. Off. The. Old. Block.
“Well, radio back when you change your mind. Otherwise, I’ll see you two in a few days.” Em waves as he climbs aboard.
