12/7/16
"WE'RE GOING TO the beach?" I ask confused at what's Chase just said.
"No," he starts dragging out the single word. "We're going on the boat," he clarifies though his words do anything but for me. He continues to pack a tote for the day not noticing the look of puzzlement that coats my face.
"It's December...." I trail not understanding why the concept of boating on an ocean doesn't sound appealing when it's winter.
He casts me a look, as if I'm being stupid. "We live in southern Florida Hayley," he states. "We don't really get winter," he explains slowly as if I really am daft.
"Oh...." I breathe under my breath. I know he thinks I'm being a complete idiot right now, but the idea of a boat in the middle of the chilly months really doesn't add up in my head. Growing up in Illinois the concept of no winter doesn't sit with me right away.
"Haven't you noticed how warm it is?" Chase asks as he finishes tossing his items into the bag.
I shrug. "Well yeah," I drawl out. "But the idea of being on a boat is just weird when it's December," I tell him honestly as I hand my sunscreen and towel to Chase to put in the bag as well.
A breathy chuckle escapes his lips. "I guess it is weird when you aren't use to it," he agrees. I nod dramatically at his words as he finally sees it from my point of view. "On the water will be cold when the wind hits us but it isn't too bad," he adds maybe to inform me. But most likely to cut off the sassy comments that he knows are coming.
I throw on my white lacy cover up, which honestly does little to cover up the lavender string bikini I have on. While I didn't have boating on my mind when I packed for this break, I did toss in a bathing suit last minute at Chase's request. Though now a part of me wishes I would've brought a more conservative one to be in front of Chase's parents.
"God, why do we have to leave so early?" I ask with a slight pout as I eye the comfortable bed I had to leave way too early this morning.
"It's noon Hayley," Chase remarks his eyes wide and mouth agape looking at me as if I have completely lost it. He's an early riser, which means he will never understand my love to sleep till two in the afternoon and call lunch breakfast.
"What?" I question with a shrug to wave him off. "It's break," I state as if it's obvious. On my breaks I sleep until mid-afternoon, judge me.
"Chase, where's my coffee?" I ask as I slip on my sandals and push my dark hair back with my black Ray Bans.
"It's noon Hayley," he repeats slowly. He acts as if me drinking coffee at all hours of the day is something new to him.
"And?" I question with my hands placed on my slightly curved hips. A single brow arches perfectly asking Chase to test my patience so early in a day.
He rolls his eyes and reaches for my cup on the table behind him. "Here," he says as he extends the warm cup into my hands.
"Thanks," I sing cheerily with a large cheesy grin plastered to my face. I lift the cup to my lips and let the sweet caffeine warm it's way through my chest and veins.
"You're an addict," Chase gripes at me as we head out of his bedroom.
"Tell me something I don't know," I hum against the rim of the coffee cup finishing off my delicious drink.
As we make our way down the stairs and into the main living room we both spot Chase's parents immediately, and his arm instantly wraps around my shoulders. Over the last few days we've fallen into step with this whole pretending thing. We rarely touch when we're by ourselves besides the random playful touch or hug. Neither of us are touchy feely people to begin with, but when we are around his family his hand is either wrapped around mine, hanging off my shoulder, or lightly placed on my hip. Even the occasional kiss on the cheek happens.
And all of this doesn't bother me one bit, unless we are in front of his brother. I watch Clayton watch his brother touch me innocently, and I hate the way a part of me wishes it was his hand on me instead of Chase's familiar one. Clayton is a kiss from a year ago, a memory fading away the longer I'm around him and he barely gives me the time of day.
He's Chase's older brother, he's rarely around, he barely speaks, so he's no one.
But when my eyes land on him, and his land on his brother's hand that touches my shoulder delicately my stomach flips.
Stay away Hayley. Stay. Away.
* * * * *
"I love the beach," I speak quietly into the warm wind. The sun burns down on my skin causing tan lines almost immediately.
"Same," my father responds next to me. His fair Irish skin the opposite of mine, and already beginning to turn red.
"Why don't we live by the beach?" I ask, as my eyes take in the majestic blue of the ocean before us. The soft grainy sand run through my fingers and I have this sudden moment of realization. That this is home. Nothing's ever made me so safe, ever felt so perfect, besides my family.
"Because we live in Illinois," my father states as if it's obvious.
I turn my head slightly to take in my father. The way he looks at the ocean is the same why he looks at my mother, pure unadulterated love.
"But why?" I ask not understanding at my trivial teen age why we can't just pick up and move miles and miles from our home.
My father turns and his light green eyes, the same as mine hold me in place.
"Because," he says simply.
"Because?" I question. "That's a lame reason dad," I tell him truthfully.
He laughs at my words. He always loved my more sassy sarcastic side, definitely more then my mother who always wants me to act like a lady.
"Because," he starts his lips smirking at the word. "We appreciate it more."
"We do?" I ask as confusion laces not only through my words but my face.
"To people who live here it's just the beach, it's apart of life," he tells me. "And at some point it loses its glory."
"What makes it magical?" I push watching my father watch the waves.
"Exactly," he agrees instantly as if he knew I would understand his words.
"It makes it special, it makes us watch the water in a completely different way, it makes us look at the world differently," he says slowly as if each word he speaks he wants me to understand.
My father's words resonated with me that day in a way that struck a cord with my heart. The warm salty air, the soft grainy sand, and the cool water that washes up on our toes are what I focus on that day. I don't take one moment for granted because my father is right. When I'm back surrounded by the chilly air of Illinois I'll close my eyes and remember this singular perfect moment.
Turns out that day and his words held more then they originally intended to, because that was the last time I saw the ocean.
Until today.
An arm slips around my waist pulling me from my memories. I lift my chin to take in Chase's handsome face. "Hi," I whisper as I tilt my head and lean it against his hard chest.
"Everything okay Hayley?" Chase asks. His deep voice quiet as he speaks with the winding wind. He was right, the wind is cold on the water, but it's also perfect. The chilling wind brushing against my cheeks mixes with the warm sun it's an odd spiral of feelings. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold.
I pull away from Chase slightly and let my eyes land on his brother. His face turns away from the water and holds my gaze. His eyes running hot as he watches me, his stance cold as he pretends he doesn't watch us. Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold.
A small smile tugs at my lips as my face twists back around to watch the curling waves. This weather is the definition of Clayton.
"Hayley?" Chase says my name as his questioning eyes rake over my face.
I realize then that I haven't answered his question. "Oh," I breathe as my brows furrow. "Of course, sorry I'm just out of it today," I say as I plaster on a smile. It's obviously somewhat convincing as he nods in response to my words and doesn't push any further.
We finally dock out near some random small islands that hold nothing but some grass and sand. Chase and I grab our towels and lay out on the wooden panels that aren't covered by the shaded roof. I tug at my bikini making sure everything is tucked in before pulling off my cover up.
The sun is hotter now that we are stopped, and the heat begins to bronze my skin almost immediately. I lie on my back and adjust my sunglasses so the bright ball of light in the sky doesn't blind me.
"Don't forget my sunscreen honey," I hear Mrs. Hasting call out to her husband. She looked elegant, as always, today with her white linen pants and baby blue tunic lined with lace.
"I won't," he responds as I hear his footsteps descend down the steps and into the main level inside the boat.
I rotate my head and lower my sunglasses to rest on the bridge of my nose. "Chase," I call out at my friend.
"Yes," he responds immediately though his head stays forward facing the clear blue sky.
"Do you want to get me a drink?" I ask with a large grin coating my lip-glossed lips.
His head turns and his lips purse. "I thought you were an independent woman?" he pushes back.
I roll my eyes. "You're a shitty boyfriend," I whisper at him as we are thankfully a little ways from his mother.
He shrugs his already sun kissed shoulders. "Well good thing I'm not really," he says as his sarcastic words are paired with a slight sneer.
Annoyed with his sass today I let my eyes go wide and my bottom lip quiver as I quickly pull together my fake crying act. One that Chase has seen one too many times to fall for, yet he does every single time. Seriously, he is way too nice for me. "Chase I thought we were better friends than that," I say as my voice wavers and fills with sadness.
His face breaks out is shock as he shifts so that he's sitting up and facing me. "Ohmygosh, Hayley what do you want I'm so sorry I was just playing—"
I can't help the laughter that bubbles its way up through my body. "God, guys are so easy," I state with a wink.
He falls onto his back with a thud and loud groan. "I hate girls," he mumbles as he runs his hands over his face.
"I know," I sing as I playfully push at his shoulder with my hand.
"You suck," he says as he shifts to get comfortable once again on his towel.
"You suck," I mock back jokingly as I move to stand up because I really do want a drink.
But my actions are cut short when Chase moves to grab my wrist and pulls so I'm falling onto his lap, and his fingers pushing around my ribs where he knows I'm extremely ticklish. He also knows how much I despise being tickled. This is so payback.
"Ohmygod Chase stop!" I cry out as boisterous laughter overtakes me and tears prick my eyes.
"Aren't you two adorable," Chase's mother calls at us from her lounge chair. Her words stop Chase's hands and gives me enough of a reprieve to stand up and get away from his tortuous hands and slip on my cover up.
"Nope, she's the adorable one," Chase gushes though when he meets my gaze he sticks his tongue at me knowing his mother can't see him.
I narrow my eyes at him and hold in the part of me that wants to stick my tongue out also. But I keep myself in check and fake a smile. "Well I'm going to go grab a drink if that's okay?" I question as I take a few steps backwards toward the stairs.
"Oh, of course darling make yourself at home," Mrs. Hasting says with a wave.
"Do either of you need anything?" I ask as I place my hand on the railing to the stairs about to make my decent.
"No, but thank you," Chase's mother smiles at me and then lets her eyes fall back to her kindle. I make a mental note to ask her what she's reading silently praying whatever it is, it has nothing to do with a certain red room housewives love all too much.
"I'll have a glass of bourbon," Chase responds.
"Chase," his mother drawls. "It's the afternoon sweetie," she says in a way without telling him no to the drink.
He rolls his eyes and I have to keep in the giggle that wants to escape from my lips.
"I'll have a beer," he concedes to his mother's words.
I nod once. "On its way," I tell him. "Babe," I add with a wink and flip of my hair as I make my way down the cool steps.
My bare feet lead me around the living room and into the kitchen when my eyes land on bare skin. Tan, solid, muscular bare skin. Clayton reaches to grab a glass pitcher from the top shelf, and the way his back muscles move do something to me that make my already heated skin flush. I've always had a thing for backs.
I've told myself to keep my distance from Chase's older brother. And today I've done so, well at least so far. I know we are going to be forced together at some point as Clayton is my boyfriend's brother and living at home for break, but I've also made it a mission to not be alone with him anymore.
I take a single step backwards in attempt to escape from this moment, knowing I can't take much more from this man. My foot reaches back one more step and that's when Clayton turns around and his eyes hold me in place. I'm slowly realizing nothing about this man is casual. Everything he does he does with purpose. The way his eyes watch not only me but also everyone are always strong and calculated as if thinks about every move he makes.
So different from me I acknowledge in this moment. I do what I want when I want without thinking of consequences. I live by the moment because I know how quickly time can slip by and how fleeting some moments can be. So I take them all in and never let myself forget or be afraid to do anything. I then realize that Clayton makes me nervous to almost the point of being scared, and it's so out of character for me it almost takes my breath away.
I shake my head from my thoughts and decide to make this moment as normal as possible. "Hey," I say trying to act casual around the man that makes me feel anything but.
His head jerks up in response without saying anything. I watch him for a second as he moves around the kitchen quickly grabbing diced fruit from the fridge and wine from the counter.
"What are you making?" I ask as I step forward and let my fingertips graze the solid granite countertop. I don't miss the way his eyes run down my body and the many ways my cover up doesn't do it's job.
"Sangria," he answers simply. "It's my mothers favorite," he tells me.
"She has good taste," I comment as I go into the fridge and grab juice, and a beer for Chase. I then open the freezer and take hold on a bottle of vodka.
"What are you making?" Clayton questions back.
His words aren't as hard as they usually are, which causes my ears to perk up instantly. I turn over my shoulder and take in his face. His honey like eyes, and straight nose, and lips that make my skin heat. But his face isn't hard. It's calm for the first time this break.
Almost as if the water calms him as much as it does me.
"Vodka cranberry," I say as I pour the liquor into the small glass.
"So you like fruity drinks?" he asks. It's one of the first times he's initiated a question at me instead of me harassing him with one after another.
I nod once. "I can drink about anything," I chuckle. "But I do prefer fruity I can't lie," I reply. A smile tugging at my lips loving the way my pulse races not only when he's near but also when Clayton speaks to me. His smooth voice running over my flushed skin as if he's already touching me though I know he'd never cross that line.
"I'm more of a scotch man myself," he says as he continues to mix the ingredients for his mother's drink.
"I've noticed," I say quickly. Too quickly when his head snaps up and his eyes meet mine. The hard look back in his gaze and it all at once makes me nervous and excited at the same time.
I drop my eyes from his first hating the way at times it feels like he can see right through me. Right through the front I put on, and see the pain that actually fills me daily.
"Are you enjoying the boat?" he asks next pushing away the moment of tension that filled the air between us.
"Yeah," I respond while nodding. "I've always loved the ocean," I tell him honestly.
"Same," he breathes into the quiet air. I keep my eyes glued onto my drink that I still haven't mixed even though it should've been done minutes ago. I hear footsteps and look up to see Clayton holding multiple glasses and the pitcher in his hands.
"See you up there Hayley," he stops to say momentarily before he disappears up the stairs.
In this moment I realize that it's a rare day when Clayton Hasting says my name. I also notice that I really never say his aloud either. His name on my lips makes me want things I know I can't have, so I stay away. It's almost an unspoken rule between us at this point. But he broke it today, and my whole body mixes with a rush of excitement that shouldn't be filling me. My heart races at the way my name fell off his lips, like it was meant to be said by him, and only him.
And that worries me, but not enough.