The question hung heavy between them, the space only filled with the roar of the ocean and the distant sound of voices down the beach. He didn’t dare look at her. He knew what he was saying sounded ridiculous and weak. Like a man living in fear. If she rolled her eyes, he wouldn’t be able to bear it.
“Prom,” she said simply.
The word was so unexpected, he swung his head to look her way. “What?”
She turned in her chair to sit up and dug her toes into the sand, her gaze firmly on her feet. “That’s the day I got knocked off my path, when I lost my inertia.”
He swallowed, wanting to ask questions, but giving her time to say what she needed to say.
Her hands gripped the bottom of the lounger. “I lied to you in your movie room. I used to be even more of a hopeless romantic than Brynn. All those eighties movies she watched imprinted on my brain like some sort of disease, giving me hopes for things I didn’t have, love I didn’t understand, and experiences I always wanted. I remember watching Pretty in Pink and thinking, Hey, that could be me. Andie was poor, too, and she made her dress, went to the dance, and landed her Prince Charming. She got to fall in love despite all the crap she had to go through.” She gave a humorless laugh. “So ridiculous. I was hopeless and stupid.”
“Kelsey,” he said, his chest hurting for her.
But she didn’t stop. “When I was sixteen, I fell in love for the first time. Or at least I thought that’s what it was. Brynn didn’t like the guy, and my mom told me he was no good, but I wasn’t hearing any of it. When prom rolled around, he promised he’d take me even though he’d already declared that prom was ‘retarded.’ And I didn’t have the skill to make my dress, but I found a pretty black gown at the thrift store and made it my own. Brynn did my hair and makeup, and I was so freaking excited I could barely wait for the day.
“But when it rolled around, my boyfriend picked me up and told me there’d been a change of plans. Instead of going to prom, he was taking me directly to an after party. Only the party turned out to be at a dealer’s house. I woke up that morning thinking I’d experience my first prom, but instead I got my first taste of cocaine and lost my virginity. I don’t even remember having sex, I just woke up sore and bleeding.”
“Jesus.”
She raised her head, looking at him finally. “And no one could get me back on track after that. Maybe your dad’s theory is true. Makes me wonder what my life would’ve looked like if that night hadn’t changed everything. If I had told him to go to hell and had gone to the dance alone.” She gave him a wan smile. “Maybe you’re right to be scared of deviations. Maybe you shouldn’t have taken me here at all.”
“Baby,” he whispered, the pressure in his throat blocking anything louder. He reached out for her hand, and she let him guide her onto his lounger with him. He lay on his side and tucked her against him, his hand drifting up and down her arm. Something hot and determined burned in his veins, and for once, it had nothing to do with her body nestled against his. He kissed the curve of her neck. “There’s no one I want here with me more than you.”
She sighed, sadness lining the soft sound.
“And I turned off my phone.”
“Hmm?” she said, obviously still lost in those bad memories.
“Every vacation I’ve ever taken since I’ve been an adult has been centered around work. I’ve been on beautiful islands like this and never put a toe in the water because I was tied to my phone and computer. Even when I was a kid, my father filled vacations with lessons for us—skiing lessons, sailing lessons, you name it. I’m ready to change that. So I turned off my phone. No more work calls for the rest of the week. Now I’m all yours.”
She turned in his arms to face him, her curious gaze meeting his. “What do you propose we do then?”
He kissed her nose. “Think you can teach me how to have fun, love?”
Her lips curved at that, some of the weight of their histories lifting and swirling away in the breeze. “Absolutely. I know just the thing to start with.”
He smirked. “Should I have brought protection?”
She laughed and rolled off the lounger, grabbing his hand and tugging him upward. “No, horny boy.” She bent over and grabbed two abandoned plastic cups. “Come on.”
“Where are we going?”
But she was already moving toward the water, so he followed. When she reached the line where the wet sand transitioned to dry, she plopped down like a child and patted the spot next to him. “Sit.”
Amused at her bossiness, he complied. “Yes, ma’am.”
She pushed a cup his way and laid a quick kiss on his lips before settling back in her spot. “The key is mixing the right amount of water with the sand. With all your math skills, I suspect you’ll be an excellent architect.”
“Architect?”
She grinned and scooped a pile of damp sand into her cup, packing it down. “Wyatt Austin, we’re going to build ourselves a sandcastle.”
He stared at her for a moment, then laughed. She was serious. He grabbed his cup and filled it with sand. “Well, okay, then.”
He plunked the packed sand down, creating the first tower.
Never before had he wanted to get something just right.