Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Joel was sick on our first date in college.
I had no idea, of course, because that was the way Joel was — if he was sick, life went on as normal. Looking back now, I should have noticed his persistent cough at the movie, and his watery eyes in the candlelight at the little pizza joint we went to, and how red his nose was when he first grabbed my hand as we walked back to my dorm room.
But the super cute guy who ran in the same circle of friends had asked me on a date. No way was I questioning any of it.
He didn’t tell me until almost a year into our relationship, which was the next time I saw him sick. And just like that first time, he insisted he was fine, that he could go to school and work and party just like he always did. Lying on this couch isn’t going to do me any good , he’d said, and I’d marveled at his strength, because when I was sick? All I wanted was to be doted on while I whined and curled up in a ball of blankets.
So, when I woke the next morning to the sound of us dropping anchor and Joel was still asleep next to me, I knew something was wrong.
I pressed the back of my hand to his forehead, his neck, shaking my head when I felt how hot his skin was. “You’re burning up,” I said.
Joel groaned. “I feel like I’ve been run over by a truck.”
“I’ll be right back.”
I popped out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts, a sports bra, and a tank top before I rushed upstairs. I made some tea, rummaged around in the crew galley until I found a stash of cold medicine, and then went back to find Joel trying to get dressed for work.
“You should rest,” I said, popping two of the daytime cold pills into my palm. “Here, take these.”
Joel shook his head, but took the medicine, anyway. He accepted the tea and sat on the edge of the bed, one shoe on, eyelids sagging, his hair a complete mess from tossing in his sleep. “I can’t rest. I have to work.”
Just then, there was a knock on our door.
I frowned, glancing at Joel before I hopped up to answer it, and then nearly stumbling back when I swung the door open and found Theo on the other side.
He was already dressed and ready for the day, a robin’s egg blue hugging the muscles of his arms. The top three buttons were popped, the neck hanging open just enough to see the light bit of hair that dusted his chest. He had a coffee in his hand, and he tilted it toward me with a grin.
“Good morning,” he said to me first, and then his eyes settled on Joel, his smile slipping. “Jesus. You okay, Joel?”
“He’s sick,” I said at the same time Joel answered, “I’m fine.”
Joel glared at me, and I widened my eyes on a shrug like what? It’s true.
“You look pretty rough,” Theo said.
“He’s got a fever, and he was groaning all night, tossing and turning.”
“Body aches,” Theo said on a nod, looking at Joel again. “Why don’t you take the day off?”
Joel was already shaking his head, trying to stand, when it looked as if he got dizzy from moving too fast and fell back down onto the bed.
Theo arched a brow. “I think it’s probably a good idea.”
“I need to work.”
“The rest of the crew can handle it. We’re already anchored for the day, and I won’t be having any guests on board.”
“See? And if you rest today, you’ll feel better sooner and can get back to work when you’re actually needed,” I chimed in.
Joel looked defeated. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
“Trust me, Captain Chuck isn’t giving the crew any difficult tasks today. It’ll be an easy one, mostly maintenance and cleaning and getting ready for the week ahead. Don’t worry, they’ll save the teak-scrubbing for when you’re feeling better.” Theo tried to smile with the joke.
Joel hung his head even more, but started taking off his shoes. I sighed at the sight, thankful he was listening to us.
“Sir,” Joel said after a moment. “Excuse me if this is rude but… why did you come to our room so early?” He paused, looking at Theo. “Or at all?”
My stomach cramped at the way Joel stared at Theo then, with his brows slowly furrowing, like he just realized there was a snake in the grass next to him.
Theo smiled as if it wasn’t odd at all, and then his eyes found mine. “Actually, I came to see if Aspen would like to go to shore with me today.”
A million tiny butterfly wings tickled my chest.
“I have some business to attend to, but Positano is a great picture stop.”
I gasped. “We’re in Positano ?”
The soft pull at the corner of his lips was my only answer.
My heart tha-dumped in my chest, not just from the way Theo looked at me, but from the thought of all the amazing photographs I could capture on shore. I’d seen pictures of Positano in travel magazines and on Instagram, the colorful houses and shops nestled into the cliffs along the bright turquoise water.
But one look back at where Joel sat on the edge of the bed with his head hanging between his shoulders, and I knew it wasn’t possible to leave him.
“I should stay and take care of Joel,” I said, forcing a small smile. “But thank—”
“No, go,” Joel interrupted, shaking his head with his eyes squeezed shut. “You should go.”
I frowned. “But—”
“I look and feel like shit, Aspen. I’m just going to be lying here all day, probably sleeping. There’s no reason for you to stay.”
It was a nice gesture, insisting that I go enjoy my day, but for some reason, I felt like it was more that Joel didn’t want me around. It didn’t feel like a sweet, no no, you should go.
It felt like an I don’t want you here.
“But what if you need something?”
“I’ll be sure Emma knows to check in on you,” Theo answered, nodding to Joel with a smile. Then, his eyes were on me. “Come on, Joel needs rest, and trust me when I say you can’t miss out on this stop for your portfolio.”
I chewed my lip, watching Theo, and then Joel, back and forth like whatever decision I made in that moment would somehow change the course of my life forever.
“ Go , Aspen,” Joel insisted again. “Please.”
I sighed, not happy with the thought of leaving him, but even more unhappy at the thought of missing out on Positano.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine,” Joel grumbled, and he was already crawling back into bed, wincing against his body aches as he did so.
I nodded, deciding the choice wasn’t really mine, anyway. Joel didn’t want me to stay, and he would just be resting. If Emma was going to check on him throughout the day… he’d be fine, right?
“I’ll wait for you on the main deck,” Theo said, and then he told Joel to feel better and left us alone.
“Babe, are you sure—” I tried, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching out for Joel. But he rolled away from the touch, pulling the covers up to his chin.
“Aspen, please. I just want to sleep.”
My heart sank like an anchor into the deep pit of my stomach, and it stayed there as I got dressed and brushed my hair and packed a bag for the day. I tried to settle the tightness in my chest with deep inhales and full exhales, but it was no use.
Anxiety crept in like a storm cloud, low and menacing. I hated that Joel was sick, but I hated even more that he still hadn’t apologized, that he was still making me feel like it was me who had something to be sorry for.
He was asleep — or pretending to be asleep, I wasn’t sure — by the time I had my bag packed and my camera strapped around my neck. My chest was still tight as I climbed the stairs up to the main deck, but the moment I laid eyes on Theo, the anxiety faded like a pencil mark under an eraser.
Theo leaned against the railing, sunglasses in place and a smirk on his perfect lips. He stood taller when I approached, slipping his hands into the pockets of his grey Chino shorts.
“Ready?” he asked.
And I couldn’t help but feel like that question held more weight than it appeared, that he wasn’t just asking me if I was ready to get off the boat, but if I was ready for something else entirely. A new adventure, perhaps.
Or a new life.
I nodded on a smile, stomach fluttering again when I took in the breathtaking view behind him. The coast of Positano was peppered with sailboats and speed boats alike, colorful buildings sprawling up the cliff above the pebble-covered beach. My finger itched where it hovered over my camera.
“Ready,” I whispered.
Theo smiled, gesturing for me to follow him.
Wayland was our driver in the tender, taking us safely to shore before he told us to have fun and that he’d be back thirty minutes before sunset to retrieve us. Theo and I walked the dock toward the beach in silence, both of us looking around at the sights.
“I can’t believe this is real,” I said, turning my camera on. I paused on the dock, adjusting the aperture and focus to get a shot of the gemstone water, the sepia-tone beach, the charming kaleidoscope of houses and stores and restaurants that stacked up from the water’s edge all the way to the top of the seaside cliff.
“Just wait,” Theo said. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
Click .
I smiled, pulling the camera away from my eye to glance down at the playback screen at the photo I’d taken. It was going to be difficult to capture the magic I felt on that dock, the enchanting personality of Positano that was already infecting me. That was the true challenge with photography — how do you let the viewer feel exactly what you did when you took the shot?
“So, what business do you have here?” I asked when we started walking again.
“I don’t have any.”
I frowned, pausing at the edge of where the dock met the beach. “But you said…”
“I lied.”
Theo smirked at my confusion, and my stomach somersaulted.
He lied.
He lied to get me on shore with him.
I fought the urge to lift my camera and take a photograph of him there on the edge of the beach, Positano stretching out behind him, turquoise water sparkling off to his left. I wanted to capture that moment, to store it away in a place only I could find for a lonely night when I’d long to remember what it felt like to stand on the coast of Italy with Theo Whitman smiling at me like we had nothing but possibility ahead of us.
Besides, I needed that camera as a buffer.
He was so heartbreakingly beautiful it hurt to look at him without a lens to mute his allure.
“Come on,” he said, steering us toward the pebbly beach. “I told you I have something to show you.”