TW: without giving away the plot, this story has moments which are very dark and potentially upsetting, alluding to trauma/tragic death, and struggles with mental health. please read with care and remember to take care of your mental well-being❤️
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Sand shifts beneath my toes, soft and fine. The best kind of sand, not like the grainy kind that's actually just a collection of tiny shards and pebbles when you really look at it closely.
My hair is already sticky from the salt hanging in the air. I inhale, closing my eyes. Waves crash against the shore, in a lazy sort of way, like the ocean is getting tired, too. A lone seagull cries out, the noise sharp against the relative quiet of the private cove.
A shiver runs up my spine as the ocean breeze sends a light mist over my face. I open my eyes to the spray, just in time to see the sun set over the water. Orange and yellow hues light up the deep grey waves, as the sun, a reddish orb against the night sky, slowly makes its descent below the water.
Nothing could ever compare to the sunsets here, it's true.
I shift my backpack on my shoulders, stretching my back a bit with a groan. Turning over my shoulder, I scan the quaint row of cottages, all lit up with the warm light of their lampposts. I let out a sigh of defeat, grabbing the handle of my duffel bag.
Slinging my duffel over my shoulder, I hobble through the sand until I finally reach the boardwalk. Given the late hour, I don't think to look both ways before crossing the empty street.
Just my luck, headlights illuminate the street as I cross and I still, squinting into the blinding beam. I shield my eyes with my hand, the leather cord I keep around my wrist swaying against my cheek in the breeze.
The truck, just barely recognizable in the headlights, halts to a stop. The driver sticks his head out and I'd probably know it anywhere, the perfect state of his disheveled hair too distinct to forget.
Luke Henson.
"Dylan? Is that you, Dyl?" His voice is deep like I remember, sending shivers up my spine. I roll my eyes at the use of my old nickname.
I ignore him, just waving my hand as if he were any other driver, before finishing my path across the road. Shifting my duffel on my shoulder again, I grumble to myself about the raw blister on the back of my ankle. Public transportation for the past couple of days has taken its toll. Catching a whiff of my underarm, I realize I've reached the limits of women's sanitary wet wipes, as well.
"Dylan, wait!" Luke inches after me in his truck. "I'll give you a ride."
"Grams is a five minute walk. Or don't you remember?" I roll my eyes again, the ache in my feet slowing my pace considerably.
"Your bags look heavy." The truck rolls to a stop beside me and Luke leans out the window, a baseball cap now placed backwards on his head. His eyes are a golden-green hazel against his tan skin, his smile lit up by deep dimples that've gotten him his way ever since he was a toddler.
I chew my bottom lip, eyeing Luke's smug smile and then Gram's cottage, visible down at the far end of the street. Glancing down at my oozing blister, I let out a deep exhale.
"Fine." I mutter, throwing my bags into the bed of the truck. Hopping into the passenger side, I continue reluctantly. "Thanks."
"Don't mention it," Luke grins, checking his mirrors and returning to his slow pace down the street. "Long time no see, huh, Dyl?"
My belly churns as he uses his old pet name for me again. Gritting my teeth, I stare straight ahead as Gram's house gets closer. Just a few more seconds...
"Would've been longer, if I had things my way." I admit, jumping from the truck before he's even fully stopped in the driveway. "Thanks again, for the ride."
I push the long, tousled strands that've escaped my ponytail from my face and sling my pack over my shoulder. Taking my duffel in the other hand, I make my way up Gram's front steps, illuminated by the warm glow of her porch lights.
I hope she isn't waiting up for me.
Hearing the chirp of crickets, I notice that I don't hear Luke's engine starting back up. Looking over my shoulder, I jump as Luke stands right behind me, twisting his keys in his fingers.
"What're you-?" I trail off, backing up against the front door.
Leaning in close, he whispers against my skin as he pushes a key through the lock. "I've been taking care of June this past week. Just wanted one final check-in."
He winks as he pulls away, holding the door open for me. "After you,"
Blushing, I step inside clumsily, annoyed at Grams for leaving out the important fact that Luke has been providing her care. Luke, of all people.
Walking into the front hall brings back a wave of emotion, but I'm not able to process it all before a strong, old voice calls out to me.
From the living room, I hear Grams over the fuzzy noise of the television. "Dylan? Did you finally get in?"
Dropping my bags at the stairs, I inhale the citrus scent of my grandmothers home and put on a false smile. "Yeah, Grams. It's me."
Thanks for reading everyone!
Trying something new (including shorter chapters, more
frequent updates, and maybe some more steamy scenes??) - I'm excited to share. Let me know what you think in the comments ❤️