Every Kiss(67)

“Yeah, like a half hour ago. I’ve been watching to see if you’d ever notice, but I guess as long as Wes is out in the water, half naked, it would be hard for anyone to read. But that’s okay. You two can play it cool all you want. You’ll eventually cave. And as long as Shane and I are around for a buffer that’s not going to happen, so we’re going inside for some private time. We’re all going out for your birthday tonight, so be ready by six.”

She stands, crooks a finger at Shane, and walks up toward the house. He immediately stops splashing Wes and follows her, leaving the two of us alone. When I glance back over my shoulder, our eyes meet for only a split second before I turn back to my book, willing myself to comprehend any of the words despite the fact that I can hear him coming closer.

“What are you reading?” he asks as he falls on the towel next to mine.

I pause to show him the cover and go back to reading . . . or pretending to read. He doesn’t need to know which.

He lies on his side, facing me with his head propped into his hand. “Is that the bikini you wore at my birthday party?”

“It is.”

“Are you going to keep ignoring me all day?”

I turn to him, about to say that I’m not ignoring him, when he reaches out and slides my sunglasses off my face. I’m struck by the cool blue of his eyes and the intensity behind them. His hair is still damp with ocean water, and he has sand clinging helplessly to his dark skin. Interesting. I can honestly say I’ve never been jealous of sand before. He’s not helping things by looking like that.

“You look good, Callie. As always.”

I let out a sigh that’s more of a groan. “Distance, Wes.”

“Trying, Callie,” he mocks. “I want you to know that I’m really sorry about how everything happened between us. I wish we could start over.”

I roll onto my side and mirror his pose. “Oh, yeah? Do you really think it would’ve ended any differently? Let’s be honest here, Wes. I think we still would’ve been attracted to each other, and I would’ve ended up in your bed at some point. And being how you are, you would’ve run away like you always do. This is your pattern with every woman, so I don’t know why I’d be any different.”

“Damn, Callie, tell me what you really think about it.” He falls over onto his back and shakes his head.

“You don’t want to know what I really think.”

He huffs out a puff of air. “Well, aren’t you just all self-righteous today? Go ahead and lay it on me. Tell me.”

“Well,” I begin, “I still think you’re a coward. Cowards run instead of facing their feelings, so yeah . . . you’re still a damn coward. And cowards don’t talk about the hard stuff because they’re afraid it makes them look weak. Cowards are also too scared to take chances, even when it’s something worth going after.”

He seems to contemplate that for a minute, but he doesn’t get mad like the last time I told him that. Finally, he shrugs one shoulder and looks over at me. “Okay. Since you put it that way, maybe I am. But I’d rather run scared than end up hurt again. Women don’t have any problem walking away from me, so I’ve learned it’s a lot easier to be the first one to walk away.”

Well, hello. I think he just confessed the root of the problem. He actually opened up to me in a roundabout way. “Are you ever going to tell me what makes you that way? You say that you’ve always been honest with me, but you’ve never told me why you feel like you have to run. Does this have something to do with your mother?”

“Callie, I’ve told you. I’m not discussing my mother with you. It’s just not ever going to happen. All of that is between me and my parents. No one else. But since you’re so intent on digging, I’ll give you a piece of the puzzle.”

I can see the hurt just behind his eyes as he dredges through the painful memories from his past. I don’t want him to feel that way, and I almost stop him, but he needs to talk to someone. He needs to get it out. I don’t know what compels me to do it, but I take his hand and squeeze it. At first, he keeps his hand straight, and I almost pull mine back, but he turns his hand and laces his fingers with mine. “I know it sucks, Wes, but I need to understand.”

“Her name is Sarah. She wasn’t just my high school sweetheart; she was my girlfriend since the third grade. I always knew we’d end up together. If I started a sentence, she’d finish it. She could always cheer me up, even when I didn’t want to be. She was my motivation, my reason for waking up in the morning. I thought we had something special, you know?”