3. Distraction

THREE

DISTRACTION

G ullhaven is such a small town, we know everyone—and everyone's business, too. Our graduating class had less than a hundred-and-fifty students; one reason why we were able to have our seniors' weekend on the island. Since I moved back, I've noticed that Tommy's friend group isn't that much different than the one we all had as kids. The stereotypical ‘popular' clique made up of three football players, the high school newspaper editor, a pair of cheerleaders, the class clown, and, well, Chase.

I start ticking off names. "You. Me. Summer and Tyler." When he nods, I immediately say, "Madison," because Summer doesn't go anywhere without her emotional support human. "Vee." I raise my eyebrows. "Aaron?"

Tommy nods. "They're both stubbornly determined not to let their recent break-up mess with the group's dynamic."

I get that. That's the thing about growing up in a small town. We partner swap. A lot . Me dating Tommy for nearly all of high school only to start dating Clay right as we were getting ready to graduate was almost expected, and it wouldn't have been a big deal if I'd broken up with Tommy first. Just like how Summer had a few months' fling with Tommy before getting back with her on and off-again boyfriend, Tyler. With the exception of Tommy and Clay, I'm pretty sure Madison fucked anyone who ever wore a GHS varsity jacket—both while we were in school and after, and considering the whispers around town, she's still doing it so long as the guy says he's on the right side of eighteen.

Vee was with Aaron in middle school. Ignored the flirtatious troublemaker all through high school, then gave him a second chance once he seemed to calm down a little in his mid-twenties. They got back together about two years ago, right before I gave Tommy a second chance. I figured they would be the next to get married after Summer and Tyler, but Vee ended things over the summer.

Since then, she's been cozying up to Chase Whitmore. Nothing serious, just a couple of nights out together that they both claim aren't dates, but I can't help but not believe a word out of his mouth, at least. After all, I know how good of a liar he is.

No one believed me at all when I told the group that Chase shoved my head in his lap and wouldn't let me up again unless I blew him.

Well, no. That's not true. Tommy believed me. So did Clay. I was still dating Tommy when Chase tried to force me to suck his dick after he—drunk and stupid and super horny—yanked down his pants and, with his hand on the back of my head, forced my face into his lap. Though Tommy and Clay were outside, playing beer pong, when I got trapped by Chase on the couch, I went right to my boyfriend after I bit Chase on his exposed thigh and escaped him. I had to beg Tommy not to beat the shit out of Chase then and there, and that was only because I didn't want him getting into trouble at the height of baseball season.

Even before Clay was into me as Cyn and not just Tommy's girl, he offered to slug Chase for me. Our star kicker, I refused to be the reason he lost his scholarship to Rutgers. Besides, when Chase came strolling out onto the back patio with his pants back on and my bite mark hidden, he laughed it off, pretending like I got it all wrong. That he'd never make a move on his buddy's girlfriend.

I was too sensitive. I couldn't take a joke. I thought he was serious? Nah… he'd never do that.

And, except for my boys, everyone believed him. By the time we were back in school, rumors ran that I tried to make a move on Chase, that I was the town slut who would suck any dick that got shoved into her face. When Chase refused, I made up a lie so that Tommy didn't dump me on the spot.

That was ten years ago and I still don't know who started that rumor—though I can guess, and if Tommy has his way, I'll be spending a whole weekend with her on Halo Island. As for Chase…

I hated him for what he did to me and my reputation. For the next couple of weeks, I refused to go anywhere unless Tommy was glued to my side, and if Chase was going to be there, I'd rather stay home. School was the only exception, of course, but other than that? I would've done anything for the rumors to die down.

Then, about a month after that party, Chase got jumped on his way home by who he claimed were a couple of kids he pissed off from the town next door. He was beaten so badly, he spent the rest of senior year both in the hospital, then a rehab center in Southern California where he had to regain the use of his legs after they were both broken. Supposedly, he found God after that, even thinking about going to seminary school, though he ended up following in his father's footsteps by becoming a lawyer.

Shocker, right?

Finding out that Tommy and Chase are still good friends all these years later was almost a dealbreaker for me. Only knowing that Tommy never once downplayed what Chase did got me past it. None of that ‘he was just a kid' bullshit, or ‘he changed'. Tommy fully admits that Chase was a predatory asshole then, and a power-tripping dickhead now.

Why are they friends? For the same reason that I smile and pretend like Summer is one of mine: because we grew up together, and even if we're all in our late twenties now, none of us have really shaken that high school mentality.

Since me and Tommy got back together, I've actually spent more time around Chase than I ever did back in high school. We have this unspoken agreement not to bring up the past—one I wish I had with Summer—but that doesn't mean I like the idea of spending a couple of days so far off the mainland with him.

So I hold my breath and ask, "Chase?"

Tommy moves until he's next to me, then gooses my side. Yes . Damn it.

Then he says, "I'll make it worth it, love. I promise," and I forget all about Chase as I instantly tighten up.

Tommy pats my hip, a silent apology, then lets go of me as he heads toward the stove.

It wasn't the possessive grab that triggered me, though. Once our relationship turned intimate again, I expected Tommy to be handsy with me. He always was, and in so many ways, he hasn't changed one bit from the fifteen-year-old who nearly creamed his pants the first time I let him put his hands under my shirt. Tommy touches me as often as he can, almost as though checking to make sure that this is real, that we are together again, and I don't mind that.

But love ? Tommy's not big on pet names. He prefers to use a nickname if anything. In fact, he's the one who started calling me Cyn in high school instead of Cyndi—my name all the way through middle school—or my full name, Cynthia. Clayton became Clay. Our friend Violet is Vee. The only one who ever calls Tommy Thomas is his mother, even though he turned twenty-eight last month. It's just how he is.

And then, a couple of weeks ago, he called me ‘babe'. It just slipped out. We were sitting on the couch, watching TV together, when I got up to get some water. I asked if he wanted any, and he nodded and said, "Thanks, babe."

That was what Clay used to call me. I was his ‘babe' or ‘baby', and the second Tommy used that name for me, grief washed over me. I stumbled, head whipping around as though I'd find Clay leaning back on the couch instead.

My face gave me away. I never had to tell him why it fucked me up to have him call me that. He knew, and that was the last time he said it. He's started referring to me as ‘love' instead, and because I'm trying so hard to keep my head above the grief I've spent the last five years treading water in, I let him have it.

Tommy loves me. No denying that. There are moments when I catch him looking at me out of the corner of my eye and wonder if he ever stopped. Obviously, our relationship is completely different than it was a decade ago. We're both adults now. I'm a widow, and while Tommy glosses over his dating history, he's too handsome, too kind, too charming not to have plenty of girlfriends after I left him the first time. He loves me now in a more mature way than he ever did, and as much as I can with part of my heart still belonging to Clay, I love him.

Does that mean I can handle how easy it is for Tommy to tell me so? He was the first to actually say the words— I love you —and when I couldn't right away, he promised me he would wait as long as it took for me to reciprocate his feelings.

I finally did. On the one year anniversary of our second first date, I told Tommy I loved him. The words stuck in my throat, but they've come easier and easier since.

Now two years have passed since we've been together again. I can't tell if he's planned this getaway only to help distract me with Clay's death anniversary coming up so soon, or if he has ulterior motives...

A weekend on Halo Island with our old friend group—including a couple of my high school tormentors. It's Tommy's found family, and a chance to build new memories… better memories on the island.

I grew up. I moved on, remember? Chase is going to be there? Summer? I can handle that, especially if Tommy wanted them to join us for some reason.

And if I'm pretty sure I know what that reason is…

As Tommy stands in front of the stove, giving the spaghetti a quick stir before removing one of the long strands, testing it to see if it's done, I lean against the counter and thumb the metal of my wedding band.

Shit.

I knew this might be coming. Tommy's so honest, so genuine , that it was also inevitable. He's been dropping hints, too. Talking about how it was a shame that Clay and I eloped, that I deserved a real wedding. He asked me about my favorite flowers—lilies—and mentioned that, while moving in with each other was a start, he was ready to take our relationship to another level.

Like, oh, marriage maybe?

The anniversary of Clay's death is like a dagger in my chest. It is every October, and I've grown to dread Halloween since it's only a couple of days after I first learned that Clay was gone.

Is that Tommy's plan? Get me to Halo Island at the end of October with all of our friends and ask me to marry him?

What would I say?

Part of me still thinks of myself as Clay's wife. I'm Tommy's live-in partner, too, but there's a reason I've never been able to take my wedding band off. So what if Clay's death means that the ‘til death' part of our vows had been met? He's still my husband, and I'm not sure I'm ready to have another one.

I'm not sure I'll ever be ready to.

Tommy knows that. I made it clear when we first got together after he let me cry on his shoulders for three years that, if he wanted to be more than friends, he had to accept that there were limits to what I could give him. He promised he did.

Did he change his mind? Or does he mean it? That this is our way to reclaim Halo Island?

I promised myself I would never go back.

But I love Tommy Gillis, and if he really wants me to join him for the weekend on a secluded island with people I can't stand most of the time, I'll do it.

For him.

After everything he's done for me, he deserves me putting in a little effort.