Page 34 of Hunt for the Roses
Silence hangs between us as Aria continues to look out onto the pier, and I swallow a nervous lump in my throat as I look at her soaked body. Her ragged breathing pulls my eyes to her crop top that is slick against her flat, toned stomach. The outline of her full breasts are stretching the fabric, and her denim is hugging the sensual curves of her thighs even tighter now. There are loose strands of her hair that are slick, and sticking to her silky, sun-kissed skin, which is now glistening from her short-lived adventure.
Her beauty never waivers from head to toe, and it entices me, drawing me closer with every new detail I notice about her. But as I feel myself being reeled in, the moral threads in my mind pull me back to my original position, and I’m reminded of my place. A place that hasnobusiness being attracted to this woman.
Like clockwork, Aria’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “You think I’m crazy, right?”
I look at her for a few seconds before responding. “Not at all.” And that was the truth. I’ve seen Aria at some of her lowest points when dealing with Kyle’s death, and I’ve seen her become just a cloak of the person she once was. But now? Now she’s trying to take back control. It’s admirable. “Aria, if you set your mind to do something it’ll happen. So if you’re looking toliveagain, just do it. You deserve that much,” I say. “I’m here for you. Always,” I whisper.
Aria turns to look at me, and I see her eyes slightly narrow as she ponders what I just said and the weight of my words. She’s quiet, but the silence isn’t awkward as I usually fear it will be. It’s peaceful. We keep our eyes locked on one another as the pitter patter of the rain against the wooden planks of the pier provide white noise and solace to our tangling thoughts.
Finally, Aria steps toward me and wraps her arms around my neck, placing her head on my chest. “Thank you, Dane,” she says.
I hesitate to return Aria’s embrace, before placing my palms gently on the small of her back. When her words infiltrate my ears, it feels like they reach my heart, and I feel content knowing I did something right. Knowing Aria trusts me enough to confide in me, it makes me want to continue to be there for her. It makes me want to continue to breathe life back into her, and get to know this side of her. A side I guess I never really knew. They say that curiosity kills the cat, and I think my curiosity is starting to get the best of me.
I want Aria to keep surprising me.
Let’s hope I don’t self-destruct in the process.
Saturday, July 2, 2022
School’s officially out, and it’s Fourth of July weekend. Me, Kate, and the guys plan to have a bonfire out on the beach tonight, while we drink and watch the fireworks over the pier. Dane’s been texting me more frequently to check in and crack his usual jokes, and as great as that is, I can’t help the thoughts that take over my mind when I think of my friendship with Dane.
The last thing I want is Dane to feel obligated to me, let alone halt his own date with someone else to make sure I’m okay. I know he reassured me that this wasn’t the case the other night, but the discomfort still claws at the back of my mind every now and then. I’d like to think my growing friendship with Dane is genuine and not just a contrived relationship born out of guilt and sympathy. How depressing would that be? I shudder to think.
To add to this miserable thought, seeing Dane and the blonde on his porch made me realize that I haven’t had sex since Kyle. Or for that matter, any physical contact with the opposite sex whatsoever. Truthfully, I miss sex, and I think I’m starting to come around to the idea of being intimate with someone again. Not entirely, but I’m starting to.
I’m immersed in my thoughts as I’m helping move tables and chairs around in my dad’s new restaurant. Speaking of, my dad transformed this building into one of the best looking modern farmhouse restaurants I’ve ever seen. The open floor plan allows dining to be located in the middle of the restaurant with oak surface tables and gray padded armchairs, while booths outline the perimeter of the space. The bar is located in the back left-hand corner, and the white shiplap paneling on the outside of the bar matches the white shiplap paneling of the walls. Large picture windows with sliders decorate the rear of the restaurant to give a panoramic view of the dock at Dawson’s Marina, and above the sliding doors are transom windows with green wall planters underneath the length of their frames. Two exposed timber posts and frames are located in the center of the restaurant, attached to the ceiling where there is exposed ductwork and round trunks. To say the restaurant is eye-catching is an understatement.
As I’m fixating four chairs around one table, Ronnie comes over to me. “Need any help?”
“No, I’m good,” I say as I push the last chair in, and then I check in with my mom and dad behind the bar. “Okay, I’m here, so what else do you need me to do?”
My dad speaks first. “Ronnie and I need to arrange the rest of these tables, so I need you to unload some boxes from the truck outside. Some are heavy, so just stick to the lighter ones until Ronnie and I grab the rest.”
“I’ll come with you,” my mom says as she walks out from behind the bar.
We start an assembly line of me picking up the boxes in the truck, and my mom taking them from my hands outside the truck. “Are most of these boxes light fixtures?” I ask.
“Yes,” my mom says as she takes a large box from my hand. “Ronnie’s going to start installing these over the next couple weeks.”
“I’m curious to see what Dad picked,” I say as I crouch and lift the flaps of one of the brown boxes. “Oh, these look great. You sure Dad picked these himself?” I joke.
“Francesca definitely swayed your father from his original plans on quite a few things,” my mom says.
I laugh as I look over the image of the intimate pendant light on the manufacturer box. “So I’m assuming these lights will go over the dining tables? Are there any for the ceiling?”
“No, just the dining tables. Have you seen the amount of natural light flowing in the restaurant?”
I nod. “True, that makes sense. Plus there're lights out on the marina to shine through the windows at night, so point taken.” I close the flaps of the brown box back up and stand to hand the box to my mom.
“What kind of decor is going on the walls?” I ask.
“Recessed wall art to the side of the bar. Less is more, don’t you think?” my mom asks as I hand her another box from the truck.
“Honestly, you probably don’t even need decor with how detailed and styled the space is. The green wall planters can even be considered decoration.”
“Your father and I thought the same, but we’ll see.” My mom takes another box from my hand when she continues. “Are you doing anything tonight or tomorrow to celebrate July Fourth?”
“Going with Kate and the guys to Crestside Beach tonight. Bonfire, fireworks, the whole nine,” I say. I’m breaking a sweat in my flowy crop tank top and black spandex biker shorts, and it’s a good thing I’m wearing a sports bra because I have boob sweat. Awesome.
