Page 341 of One More Kiss

Say You’ll Stay

Isla Drake

Cole

I freeze,the beer bottle inches from my lips as I stare at the woman across the street. Blinking a few times, I shake my head as if that will somehow make the image before me make more sense. It can’t be her. There’s no way. My eyes are playing tricks on me. It’s got to be someone else. I haven’t seen her in eleven years. There’s no way she’d come back to this town again after all this time. Right?

I lower my arm slowly and set the half-empty bottle of beer on the porch railing. My eyes are still locked on the woman as she pulls a suitcase and two more bags from the back of a white Jeep. Her dark hair is pulled back into a messy ponytail and hanging down her back. Some of it has escaped and is blowing around her face with the breeze coming off the water. My hands tingle with the memory of running my fingers through its softness. It’s longer than it had been when I’d last seen her. Darker too. Memories of summers spent together on the beach flash through my mind unbidden. Laughter, teasing touches, the feel of her warm skin on my lips. The sharp stab of pain I’d felt when she’d left. I shove aside the pleasant memories and focus on that one instead. With it comes the anger and betrayal I’ve held onto for so many years. Good. Anger is easier. It’s cleaner and more straightforward than whatever else is mixed in with those memories. I latch onto the anger and push aside the rest.

I watch as she impatiently swipes at the blowing tendrils of hair before gathering up her luggage and walking to one of the beach cabins across the street. I feel a familiar tug in my chest as she climbs the stairs leading up to the raised cabin. It’s that same strange pull I’ve always felt toward Jules. I used to think it was a sign that we belonged together. Now, it’s just a reminder that feelings like that aren’t to be trusted. I learned the hard way to only trust what’s real and tangible, things I can hold onto, things that will last. And Julia Scott is not one of those things.

As she walks, I notice that she’s muttering to herself. Some things never change, I guess. I used to tease her about her habit of talking to herself. If I weren’t so rattled by the sudden sight of her back here after all these years, I might find the sight amusing. But seeing her just reminds me of all the things I lost the day she left.

Even after so many years, I’m not surprised I still recognize her. She’d haunted my dreams for the first 5 years until I’d slowly forced her memory from my mind. At least I’d stopped thinking of her every moment of the day. Now she’s back. In my town. What the hell is she doing back here?

I watch her until she goes inside Cabin 4 and the door closes behind her. I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, releasing it in a rush. Looking down, I remember my abandoned beer. Lifting it to my lips, I take a long pull from the bottle, savoring the icy brew for a moment. Why is Jules back in Seagrove? I haven’t seen or heard from her since the morning she and her family moved away when we were 17. At the time, I’d been certain it was the worst day of my life. Eleven years and 2 wars would prove that far worse was waiting for me, but that day still warrants a place on the list. Jules had broken my heart when she’d left, though that hadn’t been her fault. I don’t blame her for that. It's everything that came after that I can’t seem to forgive her for. Or myself, for that matter.

The door opens behind me, the sounds of laughter and music spilling out into the early evening air. I glance back over my shoulder to see Deacon heading toward me.

“You okay, man?” he asks, voice wary.

It’s not the first time I’ve come outside to escape the noise of a crowded weekend night. I’ve gotten better at dealing with those episodes when they come on, but sometimes the only thing I can do to calm my racing mind is to get away from everyone. So, Deac has found me outside on this porch more nights than I can count. He and I have known each other since kindergarten. He knows me better than anyone else and he always has my back. I can see the worry in his eyes as he walks closer. Tonight though, it’s not what he thinks.

I give him a reassuring nod. “Yeah,” I say. “I’m good. Just needed some air.”

Deac approaches me slowly, a wary look on his face. I know what he’s thinking. He’s remembering all the times I hadn’t been okay. All the times he had to calm me down when I’d flipped my shit in the middle of a fun guys’ night out. I hate seeing that worried look on my best friend’s face. I do my best to give him a smile, but I’m out of practice with those, so I’m not sure it comes out looking right.

“Really,” I say, trying to inject some humor into my tone, though I’m not sure I succeed. “You don’t need to babysit me.”

It’s true, though. It’s been months since I had a freak-out in public. Hell, I’m even sleeping through the night most nights. But I don’t say any of that. Deac has seen me at my worst, when even I wasn’t sure I was going to come back from the darkness. I can’t blame him for being wary now. He can’t forget the mess I was when I came back from the Army, no matter how hard I try to show him that things are better now. I’m better now. Deac keeps seeing the broken man I’d been. Hell, maybe I’ll always be that man. I don’t know. Suddenly exhausted by the idea of returning to the bar and keeping up a cheerful attitude, I sigh.

“I think I’m just tired, Deac,” I say. “I’m gonna head home early.”

Deacon nods and I think he looks almost relieved. I ignore the twinge of irritation at the thought that I’m such a burden to my best friend that he’d rather not hang out with me. Not that I blame him.

“It’s pretty noisy in there,” he says, tilting his head in the direction of the bar.

I nod, letting him believe the crowd is the reason I want to leave early rather than the woman across the street. “Tell Anna bye for me?”

Deac rolls his eyes, but nods. His normally cheerful expression hardens the tiniest bit. “I’ll try. She’s been all over that asshole Benson all night.”

My mouth twitches into something that’s almost a smile. “You mean her date?”

Deac rolls his eyes. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Listen man, thanks for coming out tonight. I know it’s not really your thing. I appreciate you coming out to support me. It means a lot.”

I pretend I don’t notice the abrupt change of subject. I wonder if Deac even realizes how hung up he is on Anna or if he’s just as oblivious as she is. Whatever. Not my place. I just nod and reach out to shake Deac’s hand, pulling him in for a quick hug before releasing him.

“Anytime,” I say. “I’m proud of what you’ve done with this place. You should be, too.”

Deac’s smile stretches wide across his face as he turns to look at the building behind him. Light spills out through the many windows and I can hear laughter and talking from inside. It’s not yet peak tourist season, so the crowd inside is maybe half of what it will be this summer. But for a town as small as this, it’s safe to say that Deac’s made a success out of what was once a run-down, old building by the water. The Watering Hole, or The Hole as everyone has taken to calling it, opened 4 years ago. After a rocky start initially, the bar and grill has taken off. Deac has even added live music on the weekends, bringing in crowds from neighboring cities. I’m proud of my best friend, even if I can’t always find it in me to come out to The Hole on busy nights.

“You good to drive?” Deac asks me, nodding to the beer bottle still sitting on the railing.

I nod. “I just had the one,” I say. “I’m good.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” he asks.

At first, I can’t remember what’s happening in the morning, but then it hits me. I agreed to run in a charity 5k this weekend. What the hell had I been thinking? It’s not the run itself that bothers me. It’s the crowd of people I know will be gathered there to run or to cheer on the runners. There’s nothing this town loves more than an excuse to gather and gossip. Hell, there’s even a party afterwards with free food and beer for the runners. I haven’t been since I was still in high school and used it as an excuse to meet up with Jules or Deac to goof off. I’d only agreed to go this year to prove to Deac, Anna and to myself that I was better. And I am. Most of the time. But I know I can’t back out now. So, I give Deac what I hope is a cocky grin.

“I’ll be waiting for you at the finish line,” I say.

“In your dreams,” Deac says with a laugh.

I turn to walk away. “Get used to looking at my back, because you’re going to be chasing me for 3 miles.”

I hear his laugh fading behind me as I make my way to the parking lot and my truck. When I climb behind the wheel, I can see Cabin 4 just across the way, that damned white Jeep still parked out front. The tiny amount of amusement I’d felt bantering with Deac is gone now, replaced by dread and the knowledge that the only woman to ever break my heart is back in my town.

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