Coast (Kick Push Book 2) (The Road 3) (34 page)

My eyes snap to Becs, who’s still silently laughing. She signs, “He’s drunk. And I’m almost positive he’s gay.”

I cackle with laughter at her response, while the waitress returns with the beers and bottle of tequila and places them on the table. “We’ll keep your card at the bar, just grab it from me when you leave,” she says, squeezing my shoulder.

Becca’s hands are on my head again.

“What did Becca sign?” Pete yells.

So much yelling.

All the phones on the table go off at once. Everyone picks theirs up quickly, their eyes scanning. Then they all laugh loudly. Bob even goes to high-five Becs.

“What just happened?” I shout.

Bob sits back down and shows me his phone and the group message with everyone at the table.

Becca:
If that waitress bitch touches my boyfriend again I will cut her. And just so we’re clear, when I say “cut her” I mean, I will throw down and declare war on her ass. I don’t care if he has a black card or not, I can go from Sweet-B to Trailer-Park in less than a second!

I turn to Becca, my grin wide. “Sweet B?”

She crosses her arms. “I’m serious,” she mouths.

“Sweet-B to Trailer Park!” Pete shouts. “That’s fucking gold.”

We drink to Becca, again, and so the night goes. Sixteen college students and me, all sitting at a table, alcohol flowing, conversation loud, laughter constant, and for tonight—just one night—I’m nothing more than Becca Owens’s boyfriend from out of town. And it’s perfect.

Almost
too
perfect.

—Becca—

“W
hat the hell
are we doing, Becs? You’re going to get my ass thrown in jail and I can’t go to jail. It’s in my contract and ooh, my mamma will be sooo mad,” Josh says, his words slurred as I slip the key into the entrance of Say Something.

He’s drunk, clearly, which—in theory—is bad timing to bring him here and tell him what I want to say, but he’s leaving in a few hours, and I need to get it out, so here we are.

I take his hand and lead him through the dim light of the Say Something warehouse and to the bottom of the staircase that leads to the rooftop. “Who first?” I sign.

He tilts his head, confused. Then he nods once. “You’re pretty. And you have pretty hair and pretty eyes and a pretty ass so you should go first, so I can watch your pretty ass.”

Surprisingly, we make it to the top without any casualties. Especially considering we spent the entire climb with both of his hands on my ass.

I pick up the battery-operated lantern I keep in the metal box by the door and move to the middle of the rooftop. Tugging his hand, I sit on the ground, my legs crossed, waiting for him to do the same.

“Seriously, Becs, it’s almost four in the morning. What are we doing here?”

“I wanted to talk,” I sign.

His face scrunches and he rubs his jaw. “We couldn’t do that from the comfort and warmth of your bed?”

I shake my head. “Josh,” I sign. “I feel like I owe you an explanation… about the operation and everything that happened this morning.”

He clears his throat as he scoots closer to me, his knees touching mine. “Okay, babe,” he says, his tone sobering. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

I point to my phone, knowing I’ll struggle signing it.

Nodding, he places his hands on my knees and keeps his eyes locked on mine.

After taking a breath, I activate Cordy and gather my courage.
“The truth is, after what happened with Tommy last time I was there, I tried really hard not to let it affect me, but it did. And I kind of lost my way a little bit.”

“You know he didn’t mean what he said, right?” Josh says, his voice low. “He was angry at me and he took it out on you.”

I shrug.
“It doesn’t really matter why it happened. It did. And it as much as I didn’t want it to—it hurt. Not so much that he said those things, but it was more the realization that I could never read him a bedtime story like he wanted, or that I could never sing with him, or talk properly to him. I thought about our future—not just you and me, but all three of us—and I somehow convinced myself that it wasn’t fair to have to put that burden on either of you.”

I hit
speak
and watch Josh as he takes in every relayed word. He’s no longer looking at me, though, he’s looking down at his lap. He doesn’t speak, so I continue,
“But I was selfish. I wanted him in my life as much as I wanted you and I wasn’t willing to give it up without a fight. So I spoke to Lexy and asked if there was anything I could do. She told me about Dr. Schmidt, a doctor in Germany—a surgeon who specializes in his field. He comes to the States twice a year and operates on four patients who are prime candidates for what he does. Lexy thought I would be suitable, so she passed on my medical history…

“If I could have had the operation, it would’ve been a couple months from now. That’s why I got that job, but it wouldn’t have been enough, and I don’t know why, but I feel like you should know that I would’ve gone to you, Josh. I would’ve asked you for the money. If it came down to it… that’s how badly I wanted it.”

I wipe at the tears building and attempt to push down the ache tugging at my chest. Without looking at him for a response, I add,
“I don’t deal well with disappointment. I shut down and I pretend like it doesn’t exist. That’s part of the reason I pushed you away this morning, because I knew you’d want to talk about it. I knew you’d try to come up with your own ways to fix the problem, because that’s who you are. You like to fix things, and I knew you’d do anything to save me.”

“Maybe it’s my pride. I don’t know. But it’s just like your money. I don’t want it to define us. I don’t want you to have to take care of me. I don’t want you to always be the hero, and for me to always be the girl who needs saving.”

“Becca, it’s not about that,” he says quickly. “It’s about me loving you.”

“I know that. You’ve shown me that. You and Tommy both. And that’s why I wanted to talk to you about all this. When I saw him today and he showed me that he’d been learning sign language, he took that fear, that disappointment I’d been drowning in, and he took it all away.

“I can’t even begin to describe in words how much it means to me that you’ve all found a way to make me feel like this impairment isn’t an impairment at all. You’ve made me feel like I’m part of something, and that my inability to speak is something I’ll never have to worry about. You’ve made me feel accepted, something I struggle with daily, but more than that… you’ve given me hope, Josh.”

His hands tighten on my knees, letting me know he’s heard me.

I sniff back a sob.
“You’ve given me so much hope. And I don’t think I even realized that that’s what I’ve been searching for this whole time. Walking away from that hospital room and away from you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

I let my emotions control me a moment, struggling to see through my tears. Josh stays silent, knowing there’s more, knowing I’m about to give him
everything.

“I left because I thought I needed to grow, needed to find myself, and I did. To an extent. But I never felt whole, never felt complete, not until I had you and Tommy again, and I know that’s pathetic—”

“It’s not,” he interrupts.

“But it’s the truth,”
Cordy says over him.

I look up at him. He’s shaking his head. “You had every right to leave me, Becs. I said and did horrible things—”

“You were hurting. I should’ve been there for you.”

“You didn’t cause my hurt, though.
I
caused yours.”

The alarm on my phone sounds and I stand quickly. “Get up,” I sign.

He stands, his eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Stand still.”

“Okay?”

I sign. “Don’t move.” Then I shove my phone in my pocket, link my fingers with his and I wait.

Right on cue, the train’s whistle blows, echoing through the night. A moment later, the all-too-familiar sound of the birds cawing fills my ears. Josh tries to move, but I grasp his hands tighter and mouth, “Don’t move.”

He nods, but there’s a fear in his eyes that has my lips twitching with a smile.

The birds grow louder, now mixing with the sound of their flapping wings.

I close my eyes, waiting for
the
moment.

The air changes, rushes of wind prickling my skin, and I know they’re close.

“Becca…” Josh says. “They’re coming right for—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish before the birds swarm, flying between us and around us, their wings brushing against our bodies but never right at us. It lasts only a few seconds, five at most, and then it’s silent again.

Like a true athlete, Josh soaks in the adrenaline and stands unmoving, waiting for it to pass. “Holy shit!” he breathes out. “What the fuck was that?”

Grinning, I pull out my phone again. “
Cool, huh?
”

He shakes his head while sucking in a huge breath. “You do this a lot, I take it?”

I nod.

“Why?” he asks.

Cordy says for me,
“Because it teaches me that if I stand tall, brave, and unwilling to back down, then the chaos, the destruction—it can’t attack me. It can’t touch me. It makes me feel invincible.”

He laughs a disbelieving laugh and pulls me into his arms. “You’re some kind of phenomenal, Becca Owens,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head.

I squeeze my hands between us so I can type,
“This is my second favorite place in the entire world.”

“Oh yeah? Where’s your first?”

“Right here. In your arms.”

*     *     *

We sit and
watch the sunrise from the rooftop, his legs on either side of mine, his arms around me, cocooning me, unknowingly protecting me.

“You know what the dictionary definition of
coast
is, Becs?”

I shake my head and face him.

“It’s where the land meets the sea.” He presses his lips to my temple. “What if you were the land, and I were the sea? What if the coast we’d been searching for was
us
all along… living and existing together…?”

We count down
the minutes until we have to live and exist apart again. But something’s changed between us, something that confirms my
hope
. That regardless of how far apart we might be physically, there’s something that holds us together, keeps us close, keeps us
us.

All three of us.

*     *     *

The car ride
home is spent in silence, our embrace the only thing we need to communicate how we feel. No goodbyes. No see-you-laters. No unspoken promises.

“You know,” I sign, turning to him when I reach my front door. “If you wanted to shout it from the rooftops—about you and me—I might not be as mad as you think.”

He smiles at that, kisses me once, and makes his way down the porch steps and into the waiting car.

I walk through the house as quietly as possible, even though I’m sure Dad’s awake, waiting for me to arrive safely. I crawl into bed, letting the exhaustion take over me. I’m almost asleep when my phone chimes in my back pocket, alerting me of a notification. A few seconds later, the alerts are constant, vibrating against my butt. I pull out my phone and with one eye open, I tap on the screen. It’s an Instagram post from Josh that he’d tagged me in—a picture he’d taken the first night he spent here. I’m lying in the crook of his arm, half my face hidden in his chest. I’d been shy, I remember, because I’d just walked out of the bathroom naked after making love for the second time. Even though the blanket’s pulled up to my chin, you can tell that we’re naked, and going by the flush in our cheeks, it’s obvious what we’d been doing. I should be mad that of all the pictures he’d taken of us, he’d chosen this one. But I’m not. I’m almost proud, and that pride turns to pure joy when I read the caption beneath it:

My Heart.

My World.

My Coast.

My Becca.

*     *     *