Page 25 of The First Kind of Love
I flail for my phone, dialing Gage through blurred vision.
“Hey, man. I’m kind of in the middle of something,” he says through the speaker.
“Help me,” I whisper pathetically.
“The fuck?”
Since there’s no way of sugarcoating the truth, I stampedeacross those stupid fucking eggshells. “Gage, you need to come get me. I’m going to shit my pants.”
His voice drips with concern. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“It’s a long story, okay? I just need you to…I need you to help me climb out the window!” I growl, already clearing a space on the tiny shelving unit used for toiletries in the corner. The window’s not too far up, and it looks big enough for me to squeeze my body through.
Will I get out in time before all hell breaks loose? I have no idea. But anywhere is looking better than here because Shiloh’s begun to pound her fists on the door.
“Ful, that’s crazy.”
“You’re only two hotel rooms away!”
“No, dude. Cali and I are at a restaurant right now.”
Gage is dead to me.
The twinge in my belly tells me I need to start climbing because I have negative four point five seconds before Shiloh’s on the receiving end of one of the worst sounds and smells in the entire world, so I notch my foot into one of the shelves, pull myself level with the window, and slide the partition to the side with one hand.
Since I’m pretty much manning this self-save, I don’t even notice when Shiloh somehow busts the door open with inhuman strength, getting a front-row seat to the most embarrassing moment of my life.
8
LIFE’S A BEACH
SHILOH
“So you…”
“Yeah.”
“Then he…”
“Yep.”
“And you saw…”
“Mm-hm.”
Laughter erupts from Aeris’ mouth as she shakes her head, a few ringlets tumbling free from her messy bun. She carves out two identical holes in the sand for her boobs—which make mine look like mosquito bites in comparison—and she wiggles into place to assume a good suntanning position.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t laugh. That’s just…that might be even worse than my first date with Hayes,” she says, handing off a bottle of sunscreen to Lila.
In hindsight, I can’t even be mad at her for laughing. Everything wasmyfault. And after I fought the fissure of guilt splitting open inside me, I tried to downplay the whole fiasco for Fulton’s sake, but I think me trying to relate to his…bodily functions…dampened his mood. He Great Wall of China-ed me! All night. He probably would’ve slept on the couch if I hadn’t insisted that we share the bed.
We haven’t really spoken much at all today. Sure, we’ve engaged in some small talk here and there, but it’s obvious he still feels humiliated. I wish he could see that it doesn’t matter to me. I wish he knew how incredible that kiss was. It was like a replenishing breath of life, a memory so profound that it’s somehow written itself into the double helix of my DNA.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t thinking about work or my obligations or those pesky little worries in the back of my head; I wasn’t thinking about where to run to next. Iwantedto stay still, to relish the moment, to soak up every smile and laugh and look that Fulton tossed in my direction. It’s like he single-handedly sutured the scars of my past with hope, allowing me to finally heal.
But whatever Fulton and I have…it can only be a vacation fling. Itcan’texist outside of Cabo, no matter how much I want it to. Because if it takes on a living, breathing, disastrous life form of its own, it’ll dismantle my entire future, and everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve will slip through my fingers before I even know what hit me.
Love’s not in the books for a workaholic like me. Marriage and children all come second to prosperity, because without a financially stable foundation, how else will I be able to sustain a family? I have to be able to take care of myself before I can take care of another person. I have to be able to repay my parents before I can start living my own life.
