Breaking Even(98)

“Let’s go,” she says while grinning.

Her hair is wet, her face is glowing, and her sweet body is all mine for the taking. I wish I could just take her home right now.

“Let’s go,” I echo, trying not to sound as nervous as I am.

Ash glares at us when she overhears, considering the party is just starting, and a lot of planning went into the Luau portion of it. But then she shrugs instead of commenting. I suppose she understands.

After we bid everyone an early goodnight, Brin grabs her purse and we head to my Range Rover. She shivers a little, and I open the door for her to climb in.

As soon as I reach the driver’s seat, I’m pulling a shirt over my head. It’s dark, so this is probably going to creep her out, but it needs to be done.

“Where are we going?” she asks excitedly.

I have a feeling that excitement will be gone soon. Very soon.

“You’ll never guess,” I say while reaching over and taking her hand as I pull out of the driveway and head down the street.

When she squeezes my hand, I take an easy breath. There’s that peace. She’s the reason it’s there.

***

BRIN

When we pull up to the dark, creepy cemetery, I look at him like he’s crazy. This is not a good prank.

But the tension radiating from his body makes me realize this isn’t a joke. What’s going on?

“Rye?” I prompt, reaching back over for his hand. “What’s this?”

He looks over at me, and his lips thin. Finally, he takes a breath and pulls me toward him. I climb over the center piece dividing us, and my towel-wrapped body comes to rest sideways in his lap.

I take both sides of his face in my hands, and press a soft kiss to his lips, trying to do whatever I can to rid him of the nervousness he has. It has me worried.

“This,” he says against my lips, “is me giving you the answers you’ve wanted. If you don’t want to go in there right now, I understand. We can wait.”

I already get creeped out at night, but I’m not about to refuse him. This is apparently some big revelation, and I’m not going to risk him losing his nerve.

I was hoping we’d be going to a candlelit house with rose petals everywhere. And then I thought he might say he wanted to be in a relationship. I didn’t have unrealistic expectations of him admitting he loves me. However, I was willing to accept whatever he was going to offer, because he’s worth it.

But a cemetery? I didn’t expect this at all.

“Do you have a flashlight?” I ask hopefully.

“I have two of them.”

He reaches into the back seat and pulls out the first one to hand to me. Then he grabs a jacket and hands it to me. It wasn’t all that cold until I got wet. Now the night wind isn’t nice.

I take the jacket happily, and he grabs another flashlight. When he opens his door, he helps me down first, and I wait for him to get out before I glue myself to his side.

Every time there’s a sound, I fight hard not to squeal. This is by far the creepiest thing I’ve ever done, and I have no idea why we’re here.

“I didn’t think this through,” he says nervously, looking down to the towel still attached to my waist and his jacket that is trying to swallow me whole. “We can do this tomorrow.”

This isn’t exactly cemetery-after-dark attire, but I have a feeling this has something to do with his mother. There’s no other reason we would be here. He’s never said that she was dead, but I assumed she was either dead or out of the picture. Tria finally explained that she died a long time ago, but she didn’t elaborate because I shut her down. Given our destination, I could have easily assumed it’s the former of the two even without knowing.

Tria offered to tell me everything she knew about him, but I refused. I was hurting at the time, and there wasn’t anything that I wanted to know from anyone else. I just wanted Rye to tell me. Now... Maybe I should have let her tell me what she knew.

I have a feeling he’ll never do whatever he wants to if we leave now. So, putting aside my fear of dark cemeteries, I take his hand and point the beam of my flashlight toward the gate.

“I’m ready when you are,” I say, not looking at him.

He starts walking, keeping my hand in his, but then he stops abruptly and turns before he crushes his lips to mine, soaking me in as though he’s seeking courage. I think.

I don’t know what he needs, but I try to give him whatever it is.

“Come on,” he murmurs against my lips, his body still tense as he rethreads our fingers together and leads the way.

Dark, scary, and quiet enough to make every unseen rustle of motion sound ominous—it’s like a scene from every horror movie ever made. But I trek on, following close to him as he navigates the way.