Chapter 6

6

ISLA

The sand squishes between my toes and water crashes over my feet, washing it away and dragging more over me. A shiver runs through me as the wind tugs my hair. I kick my feet through the water, flinching when cool shards hit my cheek.

I shouldn’t have written the note. Should have stayed and spoken to him, but I’m flayed open, my emotions too close to the surface to have my heart broken.

I know what he’ll say, and I’m not ready to hear it. Not yet.

My feet drag through the churning water. Punishing myself in the cold, sticky sand, needing to feel the burn in my muscles. It doesn’t distract me much, but I have to concentrate so I don’t fall over, which is enough.

When I woke up this morning, Dom was gone. I was ready to talk to him, to apologise for kissing him against his wishes, but when he wasn’t there, I couldn’t stop myself from running.

From taking the easy way out.

Instead, I went home and showered the night off me, changed into leggings, and cleaned my cut.

I put the shirt he gave me back on. Couldn’t bring myself to part with it. Not yet.

I’ve known him for so long. Wanted him for so long, and he doesn’t want me. My eyes blink rapidly, attempting to clear the blurriness. I won’t force myself on him, won’t make him see me when he doesn’t want to. Shouldn’t have kept the nail appointments going so long when I didn’t need them. I thought we’d get to know each other, hoped he might see me as more than a friend he occasionally sees, but I was wrong.

I sniff. When I finally kissed him, he pushed me off him, stopped me from removing my clothes, and said I wasn’t in my right mind. Whatever that means. I refuse to consider why he stopped me from removing my clothes. It’s one thing assuming he isn’t attracted to me, it’s another remembering his face when he went cold and stopped my hands from touching him.

Should have just taken what he offered. I got to see his apartment, and his shelves of books. Got to sleep in his bed surrounded by his scent for one night, even though he wasn’t there with me. Why did I have to blow it by kissing him?

“Isla.”

At least I got to kiss him once. Feel his soft lips against mine, the heat of his tongue, and finally plunge my fingers through his hair. I wrap my arms around myself, tugging his shirt closer to shield me from the wind.

“Isla.”

Maybe I should call the guy I went on a date with a few months ago. It was supposed to be a double date, but Chloe had found Lachlan by then. I blow out a breath. Considering I don’t remember either of their names, it’s probably not a great idea. The only reason I set up the double date was to get over Dom. All it did was remind me why I want him. The idea of getting over him when I can still taste him is devastating.

“Isla!”

I jump when I hear my name. I glance around the beach but can’t see anyone looking for me. There’s a family ahead of me with a little girl. Maybe they’re calling her. Turning my back on the sand and the expensive houses, I face the ocean. Must have walked longer to end up on this side of the beach. The water crashes higher on me, soaking my rolled up leggings, but I can’t bring myself to care.

I need to go home, change into pyjamas, and turn on mindless TV. To get home, I have to walk past Dom’s place. There isn’t a way to avoid it. I’ve been walking past his home every day for years. It’s worse now, knowing that.

I turn towards home and crash into something hard. I stumble backwards and shriek. A hand reaches for mine, hauling me upright before I fall in the water and I smack against a hard chest. Once I catch my breath, I lean back to thank them.

“Dom?” I yank my hands off his chest as if they burn and step back, tripping slightly on a shell.

“I was calling you.” His eyes are wild like the sea beside him, his gaze intense, drawing me in.

“I didn’t hear you. What are you doing here?” Why does he look so good? He doesn’t even look tired. He’s probably here to let me down easy. To let me know he’s only ever seen me as a friend.

“What’s this?” He’s holding a piece of paper with a book clenched in his hand. His hand blocks the cover of the book.

I clear the thickening in my throat and the impending sense of doom. “It’s my note.”

“Why did you write it?”

My brow furrows. Is he honestly going to make me explain why I wrote the note? Forcing me to express feelings I know will be rejected. I stay silent, my mind racing, attempting to find a way to tell him. “I shouldn’t have kept the appointment. It was selfish.”

“Why?” he demands, stepping closer. “Why is it selfish?”

“You don’t like getting your nails done. I know you do it as a favour to me. It’s unfair to force you.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“Believe what?” I say sharply. “I get it, Dom. I can read between the lines. I’m giving you an out. I’ll see you around.” I bite the inside of my cheek to keep tears at bay and brush past him. He grabs my arm, preventing me from leaving. “What?”

“I don’t want an out,” he breathes.

My head turns to meet his. “What?” He can’t possibly mean what I hope he does.

“I look forward to seeing you every month. I count down the days, Isla.” He steps in front of me and takes my cut hand gently, his other hand holding the note and book. “It’s selfish of me to keep coming when I want more from you. I remember the day you opened your store. You came to introduce yourself. Your hair was out and your nails were painted a bright blue.” He rubs his thumb over my nails. “We were talking about books and you offered to paint my nails as a joke. I couldn’t turn it down. It meant I got to spend time with you. There was no way I was going to turn that down.” He tucks hair out of my face the wind is blowing everywhere. “My love, why did you write the note?”

My breath catches at the endearment. I search his eyes for a clue, to see if he really means what he’s saying. I breathe in the ocean air tinged with cedar, attempting to swallow my tears and take a chance. “Because I’ve been in love with you for three years and when I kissed you, you told me to stop. I thought I could carry on like normal, but I woke up and you were gone and I?—”

Dom cuts me off by wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me into his chest and crushing his lips to mine, swallowing my words. The book digs into my back, but I don’t care. I gasp and he darts his tongue inside my mouth, lifting me up, getting as close as possible.

He puts me down and grins, releasing my waist and leaving me cold. He drops the note, and it flutters to the sand, waves quickly disintegrating the paper.

“That’s littering.”

“I’ll plant a tree.”

I roll my eyes, and Dom twists the book around to show me the front cover. My eyes dart to his. “Is that?—”

“The book I gave to you last night? Yes. Did you read any of it?” His fingers crush the cover, denting the pages.

“No, I went straight to sleep.”

Dom swallows thickly and flicks through the first pages. He stills a few pages in and brushes a finger across the words. He breathes deeply and hands me the book.

Hesitantly, I take it. It takes a second for my eyes to focus on the pen written on the page, but when they do, I gasp.

April 3rd, 2021.

My love,

I hope this edition brings you comfort.

One day I’ll be able to give it to you and see you reading it beside me in our home.

I love you,

Dominic

I snap the book closed and look at Dom in disbelief. “The date’s three months after we met.”

“I know.” He shoves a hand through his hair. “Isla, those mornings I spend with you are my favourite days during the year. Please, don’t take them from me.”

“You love me?” My breath hitches, hands shaking around the book.

He traces a finger across my cheek. “Since the moment I saw you. I stopped you last night because I didn’t want our first time to be the result of a traumatic night. I didn’t want you to regret it.” He huffs. “I should’ve worded it better.”

“You think?” I chide gently, running my hand across his chest. His hand comes up to clutch it across his heart. “Say it.”

He brushes his nose on mine. “I love you, Isla.”

I can’t suppress my grin. Wouldn’t want to even if I could, not if it meant missing his returning grin spreading across his face, creasing his eyes. “I love you,” I murmur against his lips, the wind taking the words out across the sea, but not before Dominic hears them.

He catches the words against his mouth, pressing his lips to mine, engulfing me. His arms surround me, clutching my waist, hands roaming over my back and hips. I run my hand across his cheek, tangling my tongue with his, finally surrounded by his heat. My hands thrust through his hair, messing it up like I dreamed. My hand, still holding the book, rests on his shoulder to pull him close.

He dips me backwards, and I laugh as he kisses down my throat. He smiles against my skin and pulls me upright. We’re both smiling too widely to continue kissing. Stormy eyes brighten, his smile wide and soft as I drink him in. All those mornings where I could only touch his hands, hoping to one day touch more. Even to see his smile whenever I wanted, and now he’s here. In front of me. Touching me.

And he loves me.

“My cheeks hurt,” I murmur, running a finger across his bottom lip.

He kisses my finger. “Let’s go home. Get you out of the cold.”

It’s not possible for my smile to get wider. But it does.

Home. With him.

I grab his hand, lacing our fingers together, and begin to walk home. My feet drag through the water, no longer a punishment but washing away the hopelessness from this morning. I gasp. “Wait.”

His eyebrow rises.

“We can’t walk in the water. What if I drop the book?” Horror rushes through me at the idea of the book getting wet and being washed away.

He huffs a laugh and I shriek when he scoops me out of the water, my hair coming precariously close to the waves.

“Then I’ll carry you away from all the dangers to the book, to the safety of our home.”

His nose nudges mine, and he moves away from the water to dry sand. He holds me bridal style, an arm across my back, the other under my legs.

I purse my lips to stop my laughter. Tingles rush through my body, being so close to him, having him call his flat ours. His shelves of books are already cluttered with mine, as if I’ve been there the whole time. Like he’s been making room for me, waiting for me.

I clutch the book to my chest while my other hand wraps around his neck, tangling in his hair. His fingers trace distracting little circles on my thigh. I wriggle in his hold. His touch sends heat between my thighs, the seam of my leggings rubbing uncomfortably against me.

I clench his neck in warning. “Stop it.”

“Stop what? I’m not doing anything.” His eyes crease when he glances at me.

“You are.”

“I’m holding you. Protecting our book.” He bites his lip against laughter.

Is this what he’s like when his feelings are in the open and we can touch each other and talk freely? I’m not going to survive. His smile, his laughter, the happiness in his eyes will end me and I can’t wait.

“You’re touching me deliberately in places to…” I trail off.

“To get you hot, wet, and ready for me?” He stops his circles and hauls me tighter to him. “Do you want me to stop?” His voice has gone growly. It shoots straight to my centre and my cunt clenches around nothing.

“No,” I say breathlessly.

He ducks to kiss my forehead. “Don’t worry, we’re nearly there.”

I raise my head. He’s right. In fact, we’d already left the beach and were at his flat. He jogs up the stairs and rests me on my feet gently to unlock the door. We wipe sand off our feet and he closes the door behind us.

I walk inside and head straight to the shelves, scanning the titles he’d chosen for me. I slip the book back into its place, brushing a finger down the spine and turn.

Dom’s right behind me, closing me in against the shelves. “I think we need to get your wet leggings off. It can’t be good for your health.”

I reach for the waistband, but he brushes my hands away.

“Let me.”