If I Can't Have You (5 page)

Whit nudges into me and the flashback returns to a nook in my brain. “So the party tomorrow? Yay or nay?”

“Yay,” I mumble softly.

It’s about time that I stop with all the wall-flower bullshit. I’m a shadow lurking in the darkened corner of a crowded gymnasium. I’m always waiting and watching. I’m always hovering against the wall praying that someone will ask me to dance while some other random person is having their moment.

And I’m getting sick of it.

~5~

Crushes are like fireflies. You can catch them and keep them or you can let them go and watch them fly away.

“Robs, get out here now!” Whit is the most impatient person I know and I’m taking too long putting on the bikini she let me borrow. She starts pounding her head against the door.

“No,” I refuse.

“Just let me see how it looks on you.”

“No.” I glance down at the skimpy hot pink bikini I’m wearing, and then fiddle with the thin ties on the sides. What if someone pulls on them? I shudder when I think about the bikini bottoms falling down and me giving every beach-goer a crotch shot. “I feel naked.”

“I’m sure you look fine.”

“I wish you would have just let me wear the one piece I brought.”

“A one piece?” Her voice hikes. “Who are you my grandma?” I touch the bare, exposed skin on my stomach and feel the need to wrap myself up in a towel. “Just come out,” Whit whines.

I’m not insecure about my body. I like my figure. I like my curves. But I’ve been a modest dresser and person my whole life and I’m having a hard time adjusting to the change now.

I realize that if I don’t come out now, I’ll have to listen to her whine for what feels like eternity. “Fine.” So I suck up my insecurities and open the door.

Whit’s mouth drops open and her hazel eyes widen. “O.M.G Robs! You look hot!”

I frown. “I don’t feel hot.” At the moment, I’m thinking of my navy blue Speedo that’s carefully tucked away in one of the drawers. “I feel like I need to be covered up more.”

I fold my arms over my stomach and Whit steps closer, uncrossing my arms and pinning them to my sides. “Stop it,” she scolds. “You look great.” Then she scans me from head to toe as a sinister smirk curls on her lips. “Drake Robertson, prepare to eat your heart out.”

I laugh and shake my head as Whit snatches her beach bag and walks out of the room. I stand still for a moment, grab my towel from the bedpost and wrap it around my body before walking out the door.

****

The beach is a picturesque scene. A group of people in the far left corner play beach volleyball and I watch the round ball sail through the air as one of the female players jumps up and spikes it over the net. The waves are choppy today and several kids have boogie boards, skimming along the surf. And it’s beyond crowded, so crowded I’m not sure we’ll find a spot to put our towels. I notice Sadie a few feet to my right and she’s wearing a neon yellow two piece, lying on her stomach, texting. I meet Whit’s gaze and she raises an eyebrow. “You wanna?”

I tilt my head to the side and slit my eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think you’d rather choke on your own vomit.”

I laugh and go back to surveying the area. My surveillance stops when I see the bright red lifeguard chair. I scan it slowly seeing a new girl with dark brown hair and no Drake anywhere. My heart sinks and falls out of my chest cavity, a thick mass of disappointment sitting in my stomach. I was so hoping that I’d see him today.

Then Whit yells, “Over there!”

I follow her finger with my eyes and see a spot a few feet away from the volleyball net. “No way,” I protest. “We’ll be in the direct line of fire.”

But Whit doesn’t hear me. She’s already on her way over there.

Following her, I step over bodies, trying to find empty spots on the sand to step. “Sorry,” I apologize as I accidentally step on a woman’s hair. She doesn’t even flinch or notice. She’s sleeping, oiled up like a greased pig and I bet she doesn’t even know that her back is so red that she looks like one of the lobster’s Maine is famous for.

When I finally make it over to Whit she’s already laying out her towel. I throw my stuff down. “Didn’t you hear me back there? Do you have a death wish? There’s a good chance a volleyball is going to smack one of us in the face!”

She nods with a sly grin. “I know.”

I stare at her incredulously. “Are you kidding me? I’d like to make it through the day without a concussion!”

Whit puts her sunglasses on and gets cozy on her towel. Then she nods toward the volleyball playing field. “Do you see all the hot guys playing?” She props herself up on her elbows and lowers her sunglasses. “Well, if they hit us with a volleyball they’ll have to come get it.” I grumble and Whit tilts her head to the side. “Quit complaining and lie down. You can remind me how brilliant I am later.”

I reach into my bag and pull out an extra towel. I lie it down on the sand, then slowly peel away the towel wrapped around my stomach. Glancing around self-consciously, I realize that no one is paying attention and suddenly feel a little better. Not long after I lie down on my back I hear Whit’s light snoring and decide to listen to some music.

After putting in my ear buds, and setting the timer on my iPhone, I roll over onto my stomach and let the blazing hot sun beat down on me. I’m certain I’d be able to hear my skin sizzling if it weren’t for the Jack Johnson song that’s blasting through my ear buds.

Ten minutes pass by. Then twenty. Before I know it, the timer on my phone dings and it’s time to roll over. I elbow Whit and she screeches, “Eh?”

“Roll over.”

I feel like a rotisserie chicken. Rolling and bronzing. Rolling and bronzing.

We roll over in unison and I set the timer for thirty minutes again. When it dings again, I’ll take a dip in the ocean. The water will cool me down and take a little bit of the sting out if I burn at all. I don’t usually use tanning beds, but I did a few times before we came to Paradise, just to get a base. The fried look is never sexy.

My mind wanders to Drake. I wonder where he is or what he’s doing. Then I make a mental note that if I see him I’m going to try and have a normal conversation with him. I’m not going to fumble my words. I’m going to be bold. I’m going to show him that I’m not a kid anymore.

And he shouldn’t treat me like one.

It doesn’t feel like thirty minutes have passed, but the timer dings on my phone. Yanking the ear bud’s out, I push my sunglasses on top of my head and tap Whit on the shoulder. “I’m going for a dip in the ocean. You wanna join?”

“Nah,” she moans and doesn’t move.

“I’ll be back in a few.”

Whit doesn’t reply and I stand, sauntering past the intense volleyball match, making my way to the water. I envision the cool water sliding over my skin and can’t wait to float in it. I can’t wait to feel the gentle caress of the slapping water as it puts out the fire on my skin.

But I don’t make it to the water.

I’m only a few steps away when a volleyball sails through the air and blasts me like a cannonball right in the back of the head.

~6~

Desire is a wicked emotion that blurs the lines between what’s real and what’s not.

Damn you, Whit. A brilliant idea indeed. I’m going to kill her when I get back to our spot.

I wince and rub the back of my head, searching the ground for the ball. At the moment, I wish I had a pin so I could deflate the freaking thing.

“Sorry about that!” a guy shouts. Sand swishing between toes throbs in my ears as someone jogs toward me.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a flash of white gleaming in the sun. I turn my attention to the ball a few paces to my right, pick it up, and spin around to face the person who came to retrieve it.

“You?” My mouth gapes open and I blink several times. “What are
you
doing here?”

Elliot, the same guy who whacked me in the head with a door on my college visit, raises an eye brow and crooks me a grin. “I’m spending the summer here with my brother. He’s actually a lifeguard here, but he’s off today. So we’re just playing a little beach volleyball with some of his frat brothers.” Elliot tilts his head to the side and licks his bottom lip. “What are
you
doing here?”

“My family vacations here every year.” I frown at him and chuck the ball at him with force. “What is it with you and hitting me in the head?” Elliot catches the ball and places it on his hip, holding it up with his forearm. “And where is this brother of yours?”

Elliot peeks over his shoulder. “That’s him coming over now.”

I glance around Elliot and my mouth damn near touches the sand. At the moment I feel sick and I can’t decide if it’s my nerves that are making me nauseous or the fact that Elliot’s brother just so happens to be Drake.

Drake jogs toward us, keeping his eyes on the sand. “Elliot, what’s taking so long?”

Drake lifts his gaze and when his cloudy pools of blue cut into my emerald green eyes I forget how to breathe. My lungs are electric and someone at the utility building has shut down my source of power. Drake narrows his eyes and runs a hand through his shaggy hair. “Wow. Kid! You—!”

“I know,” I say interrupting him. “I don’t look like a kid anymore.” Even though it rips me apart to look away from him, my eyes wander and I scan the packed beach. “I didn’t see Sydney. You two are usually joined at the hip.”

“We broke up.” His words are strained and he looks down at his feet. He purses his lips and exhales and I can tell from his mannerisms that his relationship with Sydney is a subject he’s rather not talk about.

And I can’t help but think how convenient, how marvelous, and how earth shattering the news of his break-up is.

A harmonious chorus of
Hallelujah
sounds off inside of my head and I try to keep the smug grin from crawling across my lips. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Wait…” Elliot cuts into the conversation, changing the subject, and relieving the tension of the previous topic. “You’re the famous, kid?” After he asks me the question I take notice in the fact that he’s staring at me like I’m the most appealing person he’s ever seen.

I’m baffled by his comment. “Excuse me?” I roll my eyes toward Drake. “Famous, kid? What’s that about?”

Drake eyes his brother like his blue orbs are daggers and he’s cutting into his flesh. “Don’t mind Elliot. He lives for sarcasm.”

Elliot rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Drake talked about the way he rescued you for like an entire summer. We had to listen to him brag about it over and over and over again.” Elliot chuckles and rubs his chin with his forefinger and thumb. “Trust me when I say this; It got old real fast.”

Drake gives me a cheesy grin, juts his arm back and elbows Elliot in the stomach. Elliot hunches over, winces, and grunts out in pain. Then Drake steps in front of him.

“Did I mention Elliot also likes to exaggerate?”

Part of me is confused by their brotherly bantering and the other part of me is a giddy child locked in a toy-store after being told I can take home any toy that I want. Drake is that hot pink motorized Barbie Corvette and I want him—bad. I’ve waited years for him.

Finally, the patience is about to pay off.

There’s another part of me that is confused by Elliot’s uncanny resemblance to Drake. And I wonder why I never noticed it before.

 
Both of them standing side by side, almost the exact height, golden blonde hair, puddles of blue for eyes, and bronzed abs has my mind in a blunder. I keep glancing in between the two brothers, wondering if I’m looking at the right one.

I stop and focus on the brother to my right. Totally Drake. When he smiles he has dimples on both sides of his cheeks and Elliot only has one on the right cheek. Also, Elliot’s eyes are a little bit brighter of a blue than Drake’s and set a little farther apart on his face. Yeah, now that I look at them, I mean really look at them; they don’t look as much alike as I originally thought.

Then I stare at Drake. Intensely. Reality slips away. I’m living in a sordid façade where the entire beach is abandoned and Drake is standing on one end and I am on the other. Heat lightning snaps above our heads and fans across the sky from the humidity. Waves crash into the sand, pumping a rhythmic rush into the air—the soundtrack to our movie.

Drake crooks me a devilish grin and his eyes turn from grayish blue to electric blue as the lightning flashes in them. He lures me closer with his stellar smile and electric eyes and before I know it, an invisible tether is dragging me across the sand. Closing the gap between us. I fight at first, trying to break free from his hold, but then I stop. I can’t fight Drake’s gravitational pull anymore because all I want is to be in his orbit.

I’m in his arms and his hands are in my hair, twirling through reddish-brown strands. He breathes into my ear and inside I’m the Berlin Wall, collapsing. Crumbling cement everywhere. Thousands of German’s cheering.

Suddenly I find myself thinking about things. Naughty things. Dirty things. I’ve been a bad girl things. Things that I’d normally never think about.

Seduce Me. Ravage me. Torture me.
Throw me down in the sand and shroud me with breathless wonder. I want him so bad it aches.