Confident that the ritual burning and impromptu skinny-dipping had done its job, I hurried back out of the water. My steps were light as air, and my smile was magnetic. Whatever spell my mother’s crazy life-journey had cast over all of this nonsense, it sure seemed to work. Believe in anything enough, and belief would turn into reality.
But as I was tramping back up to the fire to collect my clothes, I realized with horror that I wasn’t alone. And what was worse, I recognized the man standing there.
I never forgot a face. And definitely not that face. Or the built body. Or the confident stance.
No, even though six years had passed, I would never forget Penn.
Or what he’d done to me.
Natalie
2
My dream and nightmare stood before me.
Clothed like a god walking off of a James Bond set with dark hair and midnight-blue eyes that flickered in the dying embers. Six years had only intensified his magnetic allure. The sharp planes of his too-beautiful face. The ever-present smirk, which sat prominent on those perfect lips. The coy glance as he slid his hands into the front pockets of his black suit pants.
I had been a girl then. Young, naive, and incredibly innocent. I’d thought him a man—bold, honest, emotive, and utterly larger than life. Now, as I looked upon him, I had no idea how I’d thought of him as anything but a rogue. The kind of man who could charm you with a glance and entice you out of your pants with a few pointed words. The sort of man I purposely walked away from now.
I’d never imagined I’d see him again. Never considered what would happen if I came face-to-face with him. But, now that I was, the words just tumbled from my mouth.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” I gasped.
He cocked his head to the side in surprise. An emotion I was sure that he wasn’t accustomed to. He was definitely the kind of man who liked his life in a certain order. People didn’t surprise him. He didn’t let people in his life enough for that.
“What am I doing here?”
His voice was just as I remembered it. Smooth as butter and deeply entrancing. I thought I’d made it up. Like no one actually talked like this. In my mind, I’d magnified everything he was and everything he’d done. But standing here, I was wondering if I had remembered him better than I gave myself credit for.
I braced myself for this conversation. I’d built steel walls up around my heart, mind, and body. I didn’t let people in as easily. And I needed to prepare myself for his manipulation. Let the anger I’d harbored all of these years tear him down as he had once hurt me.
“That’s what I said,” I snapped back.
I’d finally reached him, and I scrambled for my dress. It was a floor-length white boho number that had more fabric than sense, which made finding how to get it on incredibly difficult under good circumstances.
These were not good circumstances.
I struggled with the dress and the layers of material, desperate to find the opening for me to slip my head through. As if it wasn’t bad enough that I was seeing Penn again for the first time in six years, I had to do it completely naked.
Seemed fitting. That was the last way he’d seen me then, too.
“Yes, but you are the one who is out of place, skinny-dipping on this beach. Don’t you know these are private residences?”
“I’m well aware.”
I finally found the bottom to the dress and yanked it over my soaking wet head. My long silvery-white hair was such a nuisance sometimes. If only I’d let my best friend, Amy, convince me to chop off my ass-length hair, but no. I had to have another weapon to make getting my dress on more difficult.
“And you’re only supposed to have bonfires in preapproved metal containers.” He glanced down at my makeshift fire. It had almost completely died out by now. “Not to mention, have at least a two-gallon bucket of water to douse the flames.”
I rolled my eyes. Was he actually serious right now?
My euphoria from the ritual began to evaporate. Well, that hadn’t lasted long.
With a huff, I ruffled the bottom layers, pulled my sopping wet hair out of the back of the dress, and then grabbed the shovel off of the ground. With a mighty heave, I covered up the dying flames with a heap of sand.
“There!” I spat. “Now, can we get back to what is important? Like what you’re doing here after all this time.”
He frowned, as if confused by my statement. And that was when it hit me.
He didn’t remember me.
Penn had no clue who the hell I was.
Oh god.
I hadn’t thought that this could get worse or more humiliating. Sure, I looked like a crazy person, burning soul-crushing rejection letters and then stripping nude into the Atlantic. But, now the guy I’d cursed for years was standing before me … and he was staring at me as if I were a stranger.