Sex On The Beach. Delphine Dryden
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her to close the distance. Probably that symbolized some deeper truth about their relationship, but her brain was too muddled to decide on a meaning.
She had to go talk to him. Even with no idea what might ensue, she had to. So she went.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Are you out of your damn mind?
Who the hell does something like this?
Amanda’s mind was full of things she might say, possible approaches to her problem. What came out when she and Jeremy were finally face-to-face was, “Hi.”
“I can explain.”
“Okay...” Should she really even be listening to an explanation? Shouldn’t she just kick him to the curb? The breakup itself hadn’t been so egregious, mostly cold and full of sickening disappointment followed by intense sadness. But him showing up uninvited to her vacation was way over the top, getting into creepy-stalker territory. Damn, he looks good.
“Wow. All right. I had a whole thing planned out for tomorrow morning but I guess I can wing it.”
“That’d be great, if it’s not too much trouble. Wouldn’t want to put you out or anything.”
“No, it’s not—”
“Far be it from me to deviate once again from whatever script you had in mind for me.” She wasn’t sure where the rush of indignation came from after so much time, but she didn’t care. It felt good. She should have unleashed all this months ago instead of retreating into herself.
“I didn’t. There was no script.”
“On my vacation. What the fuck are you doing here?” Oh, there it is. “Are you out of your damn mind?”
She reined herself back in, startled but oddly satisfied to have actually said, for once, the stuff she’d thought up to say beforehand. The only thing she left out was, Who the hell does something like this? It was obvious; Jeremy did.
“I think I am a little out of my mind, yeah.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and stared at the sand, scuffing a circle with one toe. No, not a circle. A question mark. “It all seemed like a much better idea before I actually got here.”
“How could this possibly seem like a good idea?” She knew how, though. Movies. Television. Novels, even the nonromantic kind. The hero swooped in with one big final gesture and rescued the heroine from a lifetime of loneliness. Their problems magically worked out, with a few minutes to spare at the end for a heartwarming final scene. “That was a rhetorical question.”
“Good, because I don’t have an answer.”
“I do. The grand gesture. The big finale where I realize how foolish I was to give up on love, then you sweep me off my feet and all is right with the world. Well, fuck that. This is not my finale, Jeremy. And all is most definitely not right with the fucking world. How did you even know...oh. God. Mom, right? Man, she’s lucky she’s a few thousand miles away right now.”
Her mother’s championship of Jeremy continued to baffle her. Of all people, Sandy ought to understand what it meant to Amanda to have a home base, to put down roots and not want to transplant herself. But to send him here on a fool’s errand was so many steps beyond too far, she didn’t even know if she could put her outrage into words. Unless the words were total betrayal.
“It’s not her fault,” he insisted. “I bought the ticket. It was my decision. I just...dammit. I wanted to make things right. Not—”
“We’ve talked about this.”
“Not make things like they were, I’m not saying that. I know that isn’t possible or even advisable. But the way things ended, it wasn’t okay. I can’t make myself be okay with it. Something was missing, some piece I still don’t quite understand, and until I get it I can’t move on. I’m not saying any of this very well. I practiced so many times and now it’s all shot to shit.” He breathed out heavily, an audible puff of discontent, and his newly sculpted shoulders rose with tension. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“I’ve never seen you like this.”
“Really? Because I’ve felt this way for months. I guess I’m just used to it now.”
She wondered if that was meant to be flattering. If his mental disarray was somehow supposed to indicate the depths of his passion for her, a love so strong that denying it was tantamount to madness. “And all the exercise isn’t helping?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. That.” He shrugged, looking sheepish. The gesture wasn’t as large as it might have been, because his shoulders were already so close to his ears. His jock posture had disintegrated back into programmer-slouch, making him look more like the Jeremy she remembered. A sexy gargoyle. “It’s not a big deal.”
The breeze shifted and Amanda wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly aware of the drop in temperature. She was sobering up. “We should continue this indoors. Or at least let me put on something warmer.”
Her mistake, she realized as soon as the words left her mouth. The correct response to all of this craziness was to send the man packing, not invite him to hang around while she slipped into something more comfortable. Even if, as in this case, comfort had everything to do with temperature and nothing to do with seduction.
“I’ve missed you. You look really good.”
“You knew where to find me. I wasn’t the one who moved. And you look...good too.”
The way he looked didn’t matter, of course, but it would certainly give her something pleasant to gawk at while they were having what was sure to be a disastrous series of conversations. The prospect of eye candy wasn’t enough to keep her headache from switching back on.
She stepped off in the direction of her room, and after a few strides heard the faint crunching of Jeremy’s footsteps in the sand. As they passed the beach blanket dance party, she spotted Alan and Julie together near the edge of the crowd. Moving in tandem, laughing about something. They looked like a couple, but then that was nothing new.
She’d just drawn level with the last tiki torch when Jeremy snapped his fingers, cursing. He ran back to the tide line for his shoes, barely saving them from being washed away, and caught up to her at the edge of the greenery that marked the pathway to the cottages. The sprint hadn’t even winded him.
Apparently he’d used the time to think up something else to say.
“Did you have a good flight over?”
“Are we making small talk now?” Small talk wasn’t safe. The very fact that they could chat like that was an anomaly, something neither of them tended to do with anyone else. The first time she’d met Jeremy they’d ended up small-talking their way into an extended make-out session. It had all felt so natural, so easy. Like kissing was just another way to converse.
“Well, I kind of blew my chance to lead with the large talk.”
“Why don’t you just say what you were planning to say? Since you apparently rehearsed it and everything.”
“I don’t have the flowers.”
She shrugged. “If you were relying on vegetation to make the difference, you must not have thought much of your speech.”
Jeremy reached to one side, plucking a broad leaf from a hibiscus branch that snapped back with a rustle as the stem released. He presented his botanical prize to her with a wry flourish.
“For the lady.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“But I do. Aren’t we lucky? Okay, here’s the speech. I came here because it’s neutral territory. Because I was an idiot to leave when I did without insisting that we talk this through, and I thought maybe here we could do that