Honeymooning With the Enemy, page 13
Storm narrows her eyes. “So, he just happened to look on there. It had nothing to do with the fact you’d already gloated and told them all about it?”
“Storm…” I shift in my chair. “I didn’t know you were going to send a photo like that…”
She crosses her arms, dropping her eyes to the table.
“We didn’t have that kind of relationship. I wasn’t expecting it, otherwise… of course, I would’ve made sure my phone was better protected from those dickheads.”
I look at her imploringly, but she won’t meet my gaze.
“The fact they saw it makes me feel like shit, but you have to know I had no part in it. And the second I saw it, I told Ashton to keep his mouth shut. But… you know what he was like…”
She laughs out her nose, nodding. “Yeah, he was a real great guy.” Leaning forward, she finally meets my eyes. “So I’m curious… was it before or after you told him to keep his mouth shut that you coined the name Furburger and spread it around our senior year?”
My stomach lurches. I knew it would always come down to this… the one thing I can’t be honest about.
I pull the tiny umbrella from my cocktail, stabbing the pointy end into the table. “Would it mean anything if I said I was a stupid teenager who was desperate to be liked, and I made a mistake?”
The pain in her eyes still lingers, even after all this time. I hate she thinks it was me. I hate I can’t tell her the full truth. But it has to be this way… so this is the best I can hope for, telling her half-truths and praying it will be enough.
She pouts her lips, running her tongue over her teeth. “I guess we all do stupid things when we’re young.”
Dipping closer to the ocean’s surface, the sun casts flecks of gold and orange over the water. As far as locations for clearing the air go, you can’t beat this. We both sip our cocktails, at which point I realize the rum has all settled at the bottom.
So that’s where you’ve been hiding.
“Why didn’t you tell me at the time?” she says eventually, her eyebrows pressed together. “Why didn’t you tell me when it mattered?”
“I did!” I blurt out. “I tried to talk to you every day until we graduated; you would never listen. I tried texting and calling, but you’d blocked my number. Besides…” I lock my eyes on the umbrella again, “after the whole nickname thing, I figured you’d hate me forever, so there was no point.”
The ocean breeze picks up and sends my umbrella dancing across the table. I let it go.
“Well, you’re right. I was going to hate you forever. That was always the plan.”
As the table falls into silence, so do my hopes of rebuilding our friendship. There’s just too much bad blood between us, too many secrets kept for too long. I nod, rotating my glass around in circles.
At least I tried.
“But there’s something I’ve learned recently,” she goes on. “Hating you only really hurts me, and I’m sick of holding on to all that stuff from high school. It’s been a part of who I am for too long.” She faces me, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. “And like you said, you were just a stupid, desperate teenager, trying to be funny.”
Pulling her hair over one shoulder, the last of the sun’s rays glisten off the copper strands.
“And I guess I can see how you were caught off guard by the photo thing.” She fixes the table with an intense stare. “It’s like you said, we didn’t have that kind of relationship.”
I frown, unable to decipher the tone of her voice. “Right.”
As another silence falls over the table, I’m not sure what to make of the situation. So… are we good now? On the right track to salvage the connection we once had? On the one hand, she knows the truth about the photo, and seems like she’s ready to forgive the nickname thing… but on the other, there’s still a stiffness to her body. A wall between us I still can’t quite see over.
Where does this leave us?
“The cavalry has arrived!” Evie announces, the rest of the group appearing at the table. “Sorry we’re a bit late. This one fell asleep, and waking him is like waking the three-headed dog from Harry Potter.”
Adam grunts. “That’s because your favorite way to wake me up is to squawk in my ear like a seagull.”
A crease forms between Avery’s eyebrows as she looks between us. “Everything okay? Are we interrupting? Feel free to tell us to go away if you’d rather have a couple’s night.”
Storm blinks out of her trance, smiling up at the group. “Nope, not interrupting anything.” She turns back to me, beaming in a way that doesn’t reach her eyes. Stretching her arm, she squeezes my hand. “Everything’s all good here.”
Her fingers linger in mine for a few more seconds before she breaks away, shuffling to the side to make room for our new friends. And I can still feel the tingling in my skin long after.
17
Storm
The second we’re under the covers, I sober up.
What is it about sharing a bed that’s so uncomfortably intimate? I’ve relaxed on side-by-side sun loungers with Tanner, stood against him in lines to board and depart this ship every time we make port, but there’s something about a bed that raises the stakes. Something about sharing a sleeping space that exposes all one’s vulnerabilities.
I reach over and switch off the light, casting the suite into darkness. Tanner shuffles beside me, and I can just make out the outline of his face by the light of the moon, shining through the crack in the curtains.
“Today was fun,” he says. “Avery is hilarious. And Adam…” He laughs. “The most entertaining rants I’ve ever heard.”
“It was really fun,” I confirm.
After our cocktails, we went with the cable car group to an Irish pub for dinner, where we drank beers, played pool, and the guys challenged each other to darts while the girls chatted. Avery and Evie are both so fun and nice. I never learned the art of making friends in high school (with Bianca the only exception), so it was refreshing to meet new people that I clicked with. It makes me wonder if I should try harder at home… put myself out there a bit more.
But it’s easier when I’m playing a part. When I’m Storm the newlywed, enjoying her honeymoon with her husband Nigel, I’m fun. A carefree, happy person who likes to make new friends and experience new adventures.
Back home, I’m Storm the grump, closed off and still bitter about things that happened in the past. Untrusting to a fault, not interested in meeting new people. Hell, I wouldn’t have even let Ethan move in unless I needed the money. I get a little pang of sadness in my stomach at the thought of never meeting him.
Sighing, I roll onto my back. The problem now is, I don’t know what’s real and what’s fake. I know we’re just putting on an act here, but I’m starting to like the act more than the reality. I like the Storm I am on this cruise… better than the Storm I am in real life.
But which one is really me?
Tanner clears his throat and my attention is immediately drawn to his presence next to me. Even though it’s a king bed, I can feel the heat radiating from his body. The sheets that surround us are charged with some kind of nervous energy, similar to the energy last night when we climbed into bed, but with one obvious distinction.
Now… I kind of want him to touch me.
Is that crazy? I’m lying here next to a guy I’m meant to hate, and all I can think about is his foot grazing mine… his arm sliding over me in his sleep…
I stretch my own arm out, almost daring myself to make contact. What if I just… brushed against him? Accidentally slipped my hand under his…
As Tanner begins to roll over, I stiffen, freezing my arm as it lays in the center of the bed. When he gets into position, the side of his pinkie finger grazes mine. But he doesn’t jerk away. Neither of us does.
I stop breathing.
We lay there, fingers touching, not speaking. It’s like if we don’t move, don’t acknowledge it, it’s not really happening. But I want more. I want to see what would happen if I just…
I lift my pinkie ever so slightly so it rubs against his, and a second later, he does the same. A mutual acknowledgment. Our fingers together is no accident. It’s like they’re speaking.
Yes, I am here.
My heart thuds. How can such a tiny gesture… such stillness, be so thrilling? I try to keep my breath under control so he doesn’t hear me panting, but on the inside, I’m hyperventilating.
What’s happening?
After a few minutes, my heart begins to slow. And after a few more, his breath becomes deeper, more audible.
He’s fallen asleep.
I roll over and try to do the same.
The second my consciousness stirs, my brain picks up right where it left off.
What was I thinking last night?
I open one eye and am relieved to see that the other side of the bed is empty. Tanner’s in the shower. Rubbing my hands over my face, I stare up at the ceiling.
Maybe it was the residual cocktails doing the thinking last night. It’s the only explanation for the sudden urge to be near Tanner, to touch him. Especially after what he told me.
Sure, the clarification that he never showed his asshole friends my photo changes things between us—namely that I don’t have to hate him anymore. He’s still a jerk for Furburger… but I think I’m ready to accept that was a long time ago, and that he’s sorry.
But after everything he said, I’m left with a different kind of shame in my gut.
Maybe he never showed his friends the photo of me, but I’m not sure the alternative isn’t actually worse. He never expected to get a nude from me.
We didn’t have that kind of relationship.
His words circle my brain, one horrifying replay after another.
There I was, seventeen and thinking a romance was blossoming between us. Meanwhile, he only saw me as a text buddy, a vault to confide secrets in, to unload on. How could I have misread the situation so badly? And to such humiliating ends? All that time… thinking I would end up his girlfriend?
The naivety makes my insides twist together.
Tanner appears in the bathroom door, a devastating smile appearing on his face when he sees I’m awake.
“Morning, Wifey. Ready for adventure day, St Thomas style?”
I demand myself not to smile.
“Give me ten minutes.”
I scurry into the bathroom and close the door behind me before he can see I’m acting strange. Facing the mirror, I point a finger at my reflection.
“Pull it together,” I hiss. “You’re allowed to be friends, but under no circumstances are you allowed to develop feelings for Tanner Jonas again.”
My reflection gazes back at me, unclear if she got the memo.
I need to call reinforcements.
Reflexes go straight to Bianca’s number, but same as last time, I feel like I can’t tell her what’s going on. Not that there is anything going on. But even if she found out I was friends with Tanner again, she would not approve. I know she’s just being protective; to her, he’s still the guy who did the awful thing in high school. Even if I tell her what really happened with the photo, I have a feeling she still won’t be cool about this.
I pull up Ethan’s number.
Storm: Tell me I’m stupid for having feelings for Tanner again
The little reply dots appear almost instantly.
Ethan: Ooh, do I smell some cruise ship sexy time??
I scrunch my face.
Storm: Smell?... Ew
I send the same message to Nisha, thankful that I filled her in on the situation on my last day in the office. Well, a very brief version of the situation: that Tanner’s a guy I had a crush on then hated in high school. She’ll talk some sense into me.
Nisha: Oh my God! This is just like a rom com!
I scrunch my forehead as I read her reply, a pathetic whimper slipping through my lips. Maybe Bianca is the right person. Maybe tough love is what I need right now.
I scroll to the message she sent last night, which I still haven’t replied to. She’s asking for more and more details about the trip, and I’m giving her less and less information. I told her I was going to avoid him, spend my days reading on the deck and my nights going to shows solo. I can’t confess we’ve spent the last two days together, or that he spent the night looking after me when I got sick…
Huffing, I shove the phone back into my pocket and face the mirror again.
I’m going to have to keep it together on my own.
As soon as we hit the powdery white US Virgin Islands sand, we depart for a semi-private snorkel and swim tour to Turtle Cove. It’s immediately obvious where the name comes from.
When I plunge under the surface of the crystal blue water, I come face to face with a sea turtle. The sunlight glistening through clear water ripples across its brown patterned shell; a sight so beautiful, I smile against the mouthpiece. The coral reefs are also home to snapper, parrotfish, and the ones that look like Dory. They scatter and dart as I swim around them, and I find the worries I had earlier floating away with each stroke of my arms. It’s incredible.
Up ahead, Tanner swims alongside a turtle, gliding next to it like they’re headed for the same destination. When he sees me, he gives me an enthusiastic double thumbs up, grinning behind his mask. I expect him to go on, but instead he comes back, reaching his hand out toward me. I look at his outstretched fingers, at his head, nodding… and I put my hand in his.
Leading me over the next ridge, we swim hand-in-hand, propelled by our flippers, until I can see what he wanted to show me. A whole group of turtles, drifting through the water like they have nothing better to do. It’s magical and serene… and as I float and stare, Tanner’s fingers tighten around mine. I squeeze back.
After Turtle Cove, the tour continues to Honeymoon Beach where we order frozen cocktails from the beach bar and walk with them along the white sand until we find a patch clear from tourists. Nestled under the shade of the swaying palm trees, I lean back on my towel, stretching my toes toward the ocean.
“You can’t get better than this,” Tanner says, propping himself up on an elbow. He’s looking impossibly attractive, his hair drying in the salty breeze, aviator sunglasses against sun-kissed skin. I have to look away.
“Nope. Can’t beat it.”
As we sit back and relax, sipping our cocktails, I notice him bending and stretching his legs. He’s seemed to manage the trip very well so far—for someone with a torn ACL.
“How’s that going?”
“How’s what going?” he looks up at me with a furrowed brow.
I laugh. “Your knee, obviously.”
“Oh.” He stops the bending, laying both legs on the towel flat. “It’s been fine.”
“I thought ACL injuries put you out of action for like, ever. I mean, that’s why you can’t play football anymore, right?”
He takes a long gulp of his drink, bringing his fingertips to his temples. “Argh!”
“It’s a frozen cocktail. You can’t just chug it, rookie,” I say, rolling my eyes. “You’ll get brain freeze.”
“You don’t say.” He clenches his eyes closed.
I give him a few moments to pull himself together, watching the water lap gently on the shore. It’s so fucking beautiful here. It should be illegal.
Taking a much smaller sip, the icy mango mouthful trails down my throat. Nothing is as refreshing as a tropical frozen cocktail after an hour of snorkeling, and I will stand by that comment forever.
“So, when are you having surgery?” I ask.
“Huh?”
“Well, you need to have surgery to fix the ACL, right? Isn’t that why you had to retire?”
Tanner runs his fingers through his nearly dried hair. “Yeah, that’s what usually happens when someone does their ACL.”
He sits up, balancing his drink on the sand beside him and picking at a piece of palm frond that has fallen to the ground. How did he get so tanned already? We’re only halfway through the cruise. Although he always did have that healthy glowing skin. I bet no one ever asks him if he has an iron deficiency.
“Can I tell you a secret?”
The breath catches in my throat as he says the words. We haven’t said that to each other since high school.
“Um… shoot.”
His eyebrows draw together under his sunglasses, and I try to get a reading on the rest of his face by sitting upright next to him. I pick at the same palm frond, folding one of the strippy bits into a square.
“I didn’t really tear my ACL,” he says.
I frown. “What do you mean?”
He presses his lips together, and I hear him exhale heavily out of his nose.
“I hurt my knee, but it wasn’t my ACL. Everyone just assumed that’s what I did. And when the doctor told me it was just a minor strain… well… I was disappointed.”
“Disappointed? But… why?”
Looking out at the ocean, the muscle by his jaw twitches. “Remember in high school when I told you I didn’t know if I wanted to play football?”
I nod.
“Well… I guess some things don’t change after high school…” He leans back on his elbow, his body angled toward me. “When I was with the doctor, I realized this might be my chance to get out. This might be an opportunity to do something different.”
Another deep breath.
“I told everyone I’d torn my ACL and bribed my doctor to keep the truth to himself. My knee is still a little tender, but it’s basically healed.”
A humorless laugh erupts from his throat.
“And now I have no fucking clue what I’m doing it all for, why I even left. I have no plan.” He shakes his head. “What a fucking idiot.”
“You’re not an idiot,” I say, surprised by the defensiveness in my tone. “You felt trapped, and you took the only exit you could find.” I bite my lip, swirling the straw around in my glass. “Trust me, we all do stupid things when we feel cornered.”
