Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82893 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
“It’s not that bad.” I laugh again, watching him back up three more steps to avoid another wave.
“Get out of there before you catch pneumonia.”
“I’m not going to catch pneumonia.” I roll my eyes and walk out until the waves brush my knees and thighs. The water is freezing, but mixed with the warmth of the alcohol flowing through my system, it feels bearable. When another wave rolls in, the sand beneath my feet gives way, making me laugh as I attempt to stay upright.
Just when I think I’m safe, another wave comes in, bigger than the last, making me stumble and tip to the side. Before it can take me under, arms wrap around me from behind, and I’m lifted off my feet.
“Do you have a death wish?” Roman bites out, rotating my body back toward the shore, causing my head to spin. My eyes open as my feet sink into sand that feels warm only because my skin is so cold. “What would you do if you went under and got pulled out to sea?” He lets me go, and I shiver at the loss of his body heat and the chill from the water soaking one sleeve of my sweater and the hem of my shorts.
“You’re very dramatic.” I wring out the sleeve of my sweater while he watches with his jaw clenched. When no more water comes out, I push the sleeve up my arm and walk toward my bottle of wine, still sitting upright in the sand. He gets to it before I do and picks it up. I hold my hand out to him in a silent request to pass it over, and his gaze locks on mine.
“You’ve had enough.”
I’ve had enough?
I stare at him in disbelief, then whisper-hiss so I don’t scream, “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“I don’t think I did.” I reach for the bottle, and he pulls it back. “Seriously?” He doesn’t answer. Instead, he turns the bottle upside down and dumps the liquid out, where it instantly disappears into the sand. “You did not just do that.”
“You’re drunk.”
“I’m not drunk, but even if I were, I’m an adult.”
“You’re acting like a child.”
“A child. Really?” I laugh.
“Yes, a child.”
“And you’re, what, the pillar of responsible and smart choices?” I scoff, grabbing my shoes. “Save the holier-than-thou BS for someone who hasn’t seen you so drunk you couldn’t even make it back to your room without help.”
I glare at him, and he glares back before turning his head to look out at the water.
Shaking my head, I drag in a breath, then start to walk off, saying over my shoulder, “You owe me nine dollars.”
“Elora!” he calls out, but I ignore him. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”
My steps falter when the quiet apology reaches my ears.
Licking my lips, I stop, and my feet sink into the sand as I look behind me to where he’s still standing with the bottle in his hand. Studying him in the moonlight, casting shadows across his beautiful face, I want to hold on to my anger, but I can’t. Not when I see the sadness etched into his features. He looks tormented, and I know that amount of pain has absolutely nothing to do with me.
He said he fought his family to take his brother off life support, then got in his car and started driving right after his brother’s funeral. Has he even taken a moment to grieve? To talk to anyone? I doubt it, and even though his burden is not my own, I can’t help but feel an overwhelming amount of empathy for him.
With a deep breath, I turn and walk back to him while he watches with a weary look. Then, without thinking, just going on instinct, I wrap my arms around him and rest the side of my head against his chest. His muscles are tight as I hug him, and he stands solid like he’s never had someone hug him before, but he doesn’t pull away, so I don’t let go. After what seems like forever, his muscles begin to slowly relax, then his chest expands with a deep breath, and his arms circle me, his chin coming to rest on the top of my head.
I squeeze my eyes closed as his pain and mine swirl together around us. The sadness is so tangible I half expect the ground to shake or the sky to open up in some kind of outward release, but nothing changes. The people gathered around bonfires continue laughing, and life goes on like it always does.
I don’t let him go and put space between us, even when I know I should. The hug started out for him, but at some point, I started crying and realized that maybe I needed this more than he did. The last person to hug me was Tyler, and that hug was filled with a different kind of pain. After a long time, so long my legs have started to feel tired from holding me up, I loosen my hold on him and use the sleeve of my sweater that is still damp to wipe my face.