Wet: Part 2 (8 page)

“I remember this part,” he said, hoping to get her to move it along but she ignored him. 

“You looked upset, angry even. I got my hopes up as I thought, hmm, maybe he could use a shoulder to cry on. I followed you to that bar in the middle of nowhere and when I walked in and saw the look on your face, I knew I’d made the right choice.”

“Maybe you misread the situation?” Paul’s cheek twitched, knowing what she meant.

“Hell no! My wishful thinking may have misled me at the party. I guess I read more into our dance than there was, but . . . I
know
when a man is undressing me with his eyes!”

He winced. “So what happened?”

“We had a few drinks. Well, I had a few drinks. You drank the bar dry. Then you asked me to dance. I had to practically hold you up by then, but things got cozy. I thought we were hitting it off.” Nicole frowned.

“What did I do?” Paul was sure she’d
finally
made it to the part he needed to hear.

“When a man leaves a party with one girl, and then shows up angry and alone at a remote bar—the way you looked at me—” Her eyes glazed over at the memory, but then she snapped out of it. “You were . . .
friendly,
and very attentive as you proceeded to get plastered, taking me along for the ride. Naturally, I thought you were out for some good old revenge sex.

“A fast song came on and you started twirling me around but then you said, very rudely, I might add, ‘You don’t dance like Rhees’. I said, ‘No one dances like Rhees, but I’m a better lover than a dancer.’ I asked if you wanted to go back to my place. I thought that’s what we both wanted.”

Paul closed his eyes and pursed his lips. He knew how the story ended. It just irritated him to have to hear her tell it.

“I’m sorry. It should never have happened.”

“You’re damn right. After being all, ‘I don’t like to be alone. I would rather hang out with you all night and drool all over you’, Mr.
Dreamy-Eyes
suddenly looked at me like I’d grown a second head or something. You can be a scary guy, do you know that?”

“Yeah, I know—so I didn’t . . .” He barely noticed her question. He finally felt hope that he hadn’t betrayed Rhees. He’d tried to dismiss Rhees’ concern about that, but from the beginning, he secretly worried he couldn’t be loyal. He’d never tried. He just never imagined it would be so soon.

“Yes! You did.” Nicole’s voice went up an octave.

He ran his hand through his hair, hating himself, knowing he would never change.

“You bought me drinks, danced with me—you told me I was pretty—with your eyes when I first showed up, but it’s the same thing. You led me on.” She pouted. “But then you leaned down and told me, right in my ear—I thought you were going to kiss me, but instead, you told me I wasn’t your type—
anymore
. You really hurt my feelings.”

His expression went blank. “That’s it? I hurt your
feelings
?”

“I told you. You led me on, made me think something was going to happen, and then you just stumbled out of the bar, leaving me there to lick my wounded pride.”

It took all of his restraint not to smile. They heard the approaching plane and watched it land on the dirt strip.

“Look, I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelings.” He hoped she wouldn’t catch the mockery in his voice. “But you just made my day.”

“You really are a son-of-a-bitch.”

“Yeah, I said, I know.” He winked before he grabbed her shoulders and gave her a kiss on both cheeks. He felt almost giddy with joy. “Thank you.”

She looked up at his smile, hopeful and dazed, as if he’d just professed his undying love.

“For calling you an SOB?” she asked in a breathless voice.

“Yep. Thank you. Don’t miss your plane.” He didn’t want to hang around another second, explaining something so important to someone so unimportant to him. He ran back to the taxi.

“You’re a good-looking SOB!” Nicole called out after him. “I’ll come back next year. Maybe we can hook up then.”

Paul didn’t bother to respond.

Chapter 7

M
itch and Randy were still out with the divers, and with Rhees diving too, Paul was on his own at the shop and didn’t have a second to breathe. Dobbs and Claire still hadn’t shown up, and Paul knew he’d have to do something about that, but at the moment, he couldn’t take the time to figure out what.

The office phone rang and he cursed under his breath as Emil, the ferry operations manager, informed Paul he had a package. For important,
hard to find in this country
items, Paul just asked his buddies in the States to pick them up for him and bring it on their next visit, but if Paul needed something readily available from the mainland, he’d either pick it up himself, send someone he trusted, and occasionally, he could convince the vendor to deliver the package to Emil personally and Emil would bring it across on the ferry—for a price.

“I don’t need this right now,” Paul grumbled. He said the next sentence in Spanish. “I’ll pick it up later this afternoon.”

“Not possible, my friend,” Emil answered back in his native tongue. “It’s my wife’s birthday. This is my last run today. Hector is taking over the ferry until tomorrow, so if you want this package, you’ll have to come before we head out in thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes,” Paul grumbled again. He told Emil he’d be there and slammed the phone down on the receiver. He ran out of the office to the end of the deck and looked out over the bay, hoping to see the boat headed back—it should be back any minute. He glanced around to see who’d trickled in. A handful of students were huddled under the gazebo, talking, and obviously absorbed in their conversation. He decided to take his chances and took off toward the ferry at a run.

To his dismay, he’d not been able to find the ferry manager right away and it had taken him forty-five minutes to get his package, a small envelope filled with new O rings—hardly worth the trouble it’d caused him, he thought. The shop needed to supplement their supply of the emergency item on a regular basis but he wondered why they had to arrive on this day of all days.

oOo

Rhees wondered all morning about where their fake relationship stood. The dives relaxed her, but the boat ride and the surface interval were miserable. Dorene and Krista talked endlessly about the previous night, not caring she might hear, but she tried to pretend she didn’t. Mitch and Randy gave her sympathetic glances every now and then, but she couldn’t wait to get back. She needed to talk to Paul, or more, she needed him to talk to her.

The boat docked, and Rhees jumped off to look for him before putting her gear away but discovered he’d left the shop, though no one knew why or when he’d left. She despaired, worried about Claire and Dobbs, about Paul—it became all she could do to rinse her gear and put it away before she ran back to her apartment. She needed to cry, really cry this time.

oOo

Paul finally made it back to the shop to find the boat docked in its spot, equipment all put away, and everyone settling in for a routine day—everyone except Rhees. He walked all around the shop, but still didn’t find her. He tapped on the locked bathroom door but the new guy, Adrian, answered back.

Paul asked around, asked if anyone had seen her, but no one admitted to it, and that pissed him off. He was already in a bad mood, angry with himself, but knowing how too many of them treated her—the girls still resented her and the guys still drooled and shared fantasies about her—right on his deck.

With him, Dobbs, and Christian around, none of them dared say anything as offensive as he’d heard away from the shop, around town, but he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to keep himself from just kicking every single student, man and woman, off his property and start over with a new clientele.

He hoped the performance-gone-very-wrong shock of the night before would finally put an end to the stupid high school behavior, but at the moment, he needed to find Rhees and figure out where they stood. He worried, sure the reason he couldn’t find her was because she’d heard what he almost did—what he was sure people thought he did—what he’d thought he did with Nicole—before he’d asked her.

He knew people talked about him, too often, and too many would love to make sure Rhees found out about his activities, and if history was any indication, they’d exaggerate—fill in the blanks with their imaginations—imaginations based on real memories of his past.

He feared his temper had guaranteed their pretend relationship was over before it’d even started, and that made him sick to his stomach—but for some reason—he didn’t understand it—he felt the ache of it higher up in his chest.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket, dialed her number and walked around, listening for her phone to ring. He perked up when he heard the ringtone she’d assigned him, Darth Vader’s theme song from Star Wars, and he followed the sound to her backpack, in the office. That idea was a bust, and he let out a stream of cuss words because of her stubborn, irritating,
cute as hell
, little hide. He might have smiled if he wasn’t so distressed.

He didn’t care about respecting her privacy at the moment, he had to know. He checked the backpack and found her clothes neatly folded inside, her shoes sat on the floor next to the pack. She’d never wander around the island without first getting dressed—

Suddenly it felt like a vise had seized his heart and started squeezing. He tried to dismiss his worst fear and stay calm as he walked to the end of the deck again. He looked out over the ocean, hoping she’d gone snorkeling. No sign of her. He exhaled roughly, stood frozen for a second, but then bolted, headed next door to Miranda’s store, where she lived with her son, Randy.

“You called roll after the last dive, right?” Paul yelled as he barged through the door, uninvited. “Tell me you called the fucking roll!”

“Yes. I called roll.” Randy jumped up from his kitchen table, knocking his lunch to the floor. His wife and Miranda looked up at Paul like a crazy man had just broken into their home.

“Everyone was accounted for then?” Paul asked desperately.

“Yes.”

“What about Rhees? Tell me you didn’t leave Rhees stranded out in the middle of the ocean!” Paul knew he was still yelling, but he couldn’t help it. 

“I called roll. Everyone’s back on the boat. Specially cousin Rhees. She’s fam’ly. I’d never leave Rhees. I’d never leave anyone. You know that, mon.”

Paul ran his hand through his hair and bit his lip before his nervous tick took control of his mouth. He ran back to the shop and frantically threw the closet door open to check for himself. Her wet gear hung inside and he dropped forward with relief. He leaned his hands on his knees as he reeled in his breathing and tried not to faint.

“Thank you, God,” he whispered over and over.

When his heart recovered and his mind cleared, he remembered their conversation about her having a phone.

There’ve been times I’ve needed to talk to you but couldn’t
, he’d said.

Only because I didn’t want to talk to you,
she’d answered
. —on the phone or otherwise.

He sighed, knowing this was one of those times, and he wished he could take it all back, do last night over again. He took care of a few things before he ran across the street to check his apartment, the closest possibility first. As expected, the lock hung on the door, a sign she wasn’t inside.

He broke into a run and didn’t stop until he’d reached Oceanside. He flew up the stairs two at a time and bent forward to rest his hands on his thighs, taking a moment to catch his breath, when he saw the door open.

Relief—he finally felt optimistic. All the thoughts running through his head since he woke up that morning, fears he’d betrayed Rhees, fears she’d been left stranded in the ocean, fears she’d figured him out and wanted nothing more to do with him—he wouldn’t blame her, but the thought bothered him and he wasn’t used to feeling that way. He needed to breathe. He didn’t call out. If she was inside, he wouldn’t find her happy.

He pulled the screen door handle. The door opened.

Why didn’t she lock the damn door?
He shook his head and tried not to be too upset about her careless disregard for her own safety. Not today, anyway. He tiptoed in, quietly, looking to the right to find her bedroom open as well. He almost sobbed, overcome with relief when he finally saw her. She lay safely on the bed, her back turned to the door. He didn’t hear crying, but his pillow displayed a telltale wet spot and he felt like such an ass.

“Rhees?” he said softly, in case she was asleep. She didn’t answer. He crept in, delicately crawled onto the bed, and snuggled up next to her. “Hey.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

She stared at the wall, sniffed, grabbed a tissue from the box she had on the bed, and wiped her eyes.

“You’ve always known I’m an ass. Last night shouldn’t have come as a shock.”

She laughed and rolled onto her back to look at him. “You called me Dani Girl.”

He huffed out a quiet laugh. “Of all the horrific things I need to apologize for, you’re starting the list off with a new nickname? I knew you hated them, but I guess I never realized how much.”

“I liked it.” She laughed again.

“Oh. So we’re starting with the only thing I did
right
.” He furrowed his brows, confused and cautious.

“My grandpa called me Dani Girl when I was little. I haven’t heard it since he passed away.”

Paul studied her for a few seconds, but then rolled onto his back and rubbed his face. His breathing sounded harsh and he moaned. He was drained.

“Aw, Rhees.”

With a warm smile, she leaned up on her elbow to look down at him, pulling his hands away from his face so she could see him. His eyes felt tired and bloodshot. After all he drank the night before, yes surely, they were bloodshot. He probably looked pale too. He only hoped he didn’t look as miserable as he felt.

He did have the hangover from hell, but his misery didn’t have as much to do with the hangover as the reason for it and the things he, thankfully, hadn’t done, but could have. 

“You don’t deserve this. You’re too good to have to put up with me. You need someone who can treat you right.”

“Stop it.” Her smile dropped as fast as it had formed. “Wait . . . are you breaking up—I mean pretending to break—breaking up, pretending to be my . . . What am I trying to ask? You’re bored,
already
?”

“I’m not bored! But maybe it would be for the best.” He sighed loudly. “I should—if I was a better man, but when I die, the last thing I’ll be remembered for is my altruism.” He looked at her, sadly. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d run.”

She smiled again and gave him a wide-eyed expression, nodding her head slowly as if wholeheartedly agreeing with him. He finally smiled back, happy to see her happy and teasing him, but she shouldn’t be—she
didn’t
know what was good for her. She didn’t because she was too nice, and sweet, and naïve. He considered himself lucky for that and then felt bad for it too.  

“I need to tell you something, but I know you’re not going to like it.” Her features drew down as she spoke, making him uneasy.

“Then can it wait until this hangover stops kicking my ass?” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You mean your head.”

He opened one eye to look at her and smiled. “Yeah, my head hurts so bad, I confused it with the beautiful pain in the ass I’ve been sleeping with, but can’t actually sleep with.”

“No.” She didn’t even pretend to acknowledge what he’d said. “It can’t wait. I’m going to tell Claire and Dobbs that I lied. I’m telling them the truth about us.”

“No, you’re not.” It came out, not angry, not surprised, just matter-of-fact.

“I’m not asking your permission. I only wanted to tell you first, as a courtesy. My mind is made up.”

He rolled back onto his side to face her. “Why would you undo everything?”

“They’re our friends. They don’t deserve to be lied to. This whole thing isn’t worth sacrificing the people we love.”

“Pfft! Love. You’ve known them since March. I’ve known them for years, and I wouldn’t say I love them.”

“
Whatever
.” She dropped onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, looking saddened to hear him deny having feelings for them. “
I
love them, and I hate that I lied to them—that I thought I could—that I planned to keep lying.”

“That’s why you should have left the lying up to me. I’m good at it.” The scowl on his face, the angry look in his eyes, must have been what made her sigh. He didn’t say it to brag, it just happened to be another demonstration of his self-loathing. “That whole speech last night—you shouldn’t have . . .”

He couldn’t finish. He sighed too and tenderly pulled her so they faced each other on the bed. “I don’t want to go there again. Last night was . . . I don’t want to be angry with you, and I sure as hell don’t like it when you’re angry with me.”

“Me too.”

He stroked the side of her face while they both took time to think.

“I think it’s a bad idea. We don’t need any weak links in this chain. Have you forgotten how your secret got out in the first place? You told Tracy, and now the whole island knows. Telling even one person is one step closer to danger. Rhees, you can’t walk down the street without drawing catcalls.”

“That happened one time.”

“One fucking time too many!” He licked his lips a few times while he calmed down. “And the only reason it hasn’t happened again is because I tried to knock the dirt bag’s nose to the back of his head—you shouldn’t have stopped me. You’re making it a habit of stepping into my fights.”

There was a hint of satisfaction in her expression. He assumed it had to do with keeping him out of jail for assault. “I won’t discount the possibility there’re more creeps like Mario out there. We
have
to lie.”

“
I
love them. Apologizing and telling them is the only way I’m going to fix how awful I feel. They didn’t show up at the shop today. You know that right?”

“I noticed.” He scowled again. She suddenly sucked in a loud wheeze of air.

“Who’s watching the shop? You and I are here, Claire and Dobbs didn’t show up.”

Paul’s face twisted, understanding her concern. He answered tentatively. “Mitch.”

Her mouth dropped open in disbelief.

“I see by your expression that doesn’t put your mind at ease.”

Mitch happened to be a very nice guy, very likable, had a great sense of humor, but he wasn’t the responsible type. She rolled off the bed and Paul watched her scurry around the room, frantically.