Chapter Thirteen

Perry

Another day, another trek out to Prater's shipwreck with the woman who just won't quit. Not only is she all too present during my waking hours, but she haunts my dreams when I'm asleep too. It seems no matter what I do, I can't get away from Lola's bright presence.

And now she's got my letter. The only letter I've ever written.

Of course it had to be the one and only time I poured my heart out onto a page. Now that she's read it, she no doubt wants to find the writer even more. She probably thinks she can reunite the two of us, or something ridiculous like that.

Little does she know that ship has sailed in more ways than one. Even if I wanted Brandi back in my life, which I don't, she moved on a long time ago. Married a few years back, I think. At least, that's what I heard through her friends and family still in the area.

But something tells me Lola won't care about the truth, not when she's got her lofty ideals and perpetually optimistic outlook fueling her drive to search for buried treasure. I wish she'd leave things alone.

I tried to shove her from my mind this morning during my fishing run but knowing that I'm going to see her today kept her lodged right in the forefront. Even after dropping off the catch of the day to the local restaurants, I'm still thinking about what she'll be wearing when she shows up today.

So far, she's worn two different bathing suits underneath a pair of shorts for easy changes when she needs to get into her wetsuit. One light-blue bikini style, the other a dark teal tankini. Totally practical. Nothing overly special about either one. Yet my primal brain finds them both equally alluring when against her bare pale skin.

Well. Now her sunburnt skin thanks to Jerica keeping her out on the beach too long, playing volleyball with who knows what kind of guys. Guys who were probably there just to stare at women in their bathing suits.

Guys totally unlike me because I am NOT envisioning which suit Lola will show up in today. At all. Not even a little bit.

Bertie's gruff bark startles me, and I turn to see her trotting down the gangway toward Lola…in her teal tankini. The one that ties around her neck and exposes the freckles along her soft skin...skin that I rubbed aloe vera all over a couple days ago…

I scrub a hand down my face and turn away, frustrated by my reaction to her. I shouldn't feel so conflicted about someone like her. And I definitely shouldn't be entertaining thoughts about how pretty she looks with her hair worn down or how soft her skin feels.

No, if anything, I should be upset with her. She took something that wasn't hers yesterday. She unearthed something that should've stayed hidden for centuries, something I never intended for anyone to find.

Looking back, I still can't give a reason for why I wrote the letter. Probably to finally rid myself of the heartache that bore down on me every waking minute as I tried to get over Brandi. I guess it was a last-ditch effort to allow my broken heart one last chance to get it all out before I let Brandi walk away from me for good.

It's not like I ever told her how badly she hurt me, though I didn't have to. She saw it on my face the day I found her and that ridiculous chump who called himself her agent in her apartment. After he answered her door with no shirt on, I knew why she left like she did. Sure, maybe her move had to do with following this new dream of hers, but in the end, I knew it was for that guy, whoever he was.

So the letter I wrote her before I finally gathered the courage to see her stayed where it belonged. Hidden. Where no one could see how pathetic I'd been to pine for her the way I did.

I moved on, alone. Now here I am, thinking of another woman. And yeah, maybe she's different from Brandi in personality, but the circumstances are much the same. Lola won't be here for long. She's here to do a job; that's it. She's career-driven just like Brandi was. Out of my league. Accomplished and even sophisticated, despite her quirkiness.

For those reasons alone, I have no interest in telling her the truth.

"Hey." Lola's soft voice causes me to turn.

I dip my chin in greeting. "You're early today."

"Yeah, I know." She bends to pet Bertie on the head and ruffle her chubby neck rolls. "I actually wanted to come early so I could apologize."

My heart stops. "For what?" Please don't tell me she knows.

Without looking away, she rises and takes a step forward. "You were right. I should've listened to you about the message in a bottle."

I lick my lips and pivot away from her. "So you know, then." I can't look directly at her now that I know she knows. She might not have had a front row seat to that relationship's demise, but now she's privy to my greatest heartbreak. She never should've found out.

"Perry, if I had any idea that you were the one to write that letter—" She moves to take a step onto the boat, but I stop her.

"Don't. Please." Finally, I meet her eyes. "Just stay there for now. Until the crew gets here."

Her eyes appear to well up, but she doesn't take another step. Instead, she nods like she gets it and bites her lower lip.

Man, I hate this feeling invading my chest. Like it's ripping apart and exposing me from the inside out, all because she knows about Brandi. Knows that I was a pathetic loser who thought writing a letter and stuffing it in a bottle would free me from hanging on to a woman who didn't love me.

I just can't have her on my boat right now. Can't let her get close enough to reach me. I need the distance or I'm afraid I'll spiral into a panic. I whistle for Bertie, craving her nearness.

"I know you're probably furious with me because I insisted the person who wrote this should be found." Lola ventures. "I should've let it go."

I shake my head. "But you didn't. You insisted that you knew what was best for a person you don't even know."

"Perry—"

"No, stop, Lola. Stop acting like you've got life figured out for everyone else. Not everyone needs someone to love. You can't romanticize other people's heartbreak."

She looks like she's blinking back tears when she nods. "You're right. That's what I was doing, and it was wrong. Please forgive me. I'd still like us to be friends."

I scoff a laugh and stare down at my feet. "How about we just learn how not to tick each other off for the time being?"

"Yeah." She sniffles. "Yeah, you're right." I expect her to say something more, but when I lift my head, she's already halfway down the dock. And I'm left with a pit in my stomach that tells me I care way more about Lola Brighton than I have any right to.