Discovering Delilah (Harborside Nights, Book 2) (15 page)

I watch her walking through the kitchen from my seat on the deck, where I’m having coffee with Tristan. My stomach gets all fluttery. My stomach never gets fluttery. At least it never used to. Delilah’s watching me, too, and she’s smiling as she comes through the door. She touches my shoulder as she sits beside me. Even that small gesture, touching me in a way that speaks
volumes about how she feels about me, is a big deal. I reach up and cover her hand with mine.

“Hey,” she says in a shy voice.

Reading Delilah can be confusing. Her touch and the shy voice conflict, but I’m trying not to question the conflicting messages, because if I find them confusing, chances are that Delilah finds them even more so.

“Good morning.” I eye her shorts and billowing
top. I know she has no idea how sexy she looks. Her hair falls over her shoulders, and the scent of her lilac shampoo fills my lungs. “I love your outfit.”

“You do?”

She looks down and touches the edges of her lacy white boho chic top. It’s one of those shirts with spaghetti straps, cut-out shoulders, and three-quarter sleeves that fall halfway down her arms. She’s wearing my favorite
pair of her cutoffs, the dark blue ones with thick fringe at the bottom, and several colorful bangles circle her wrist. She looks amazing.

I peer down at her feet, secretly hoping to see her boots, and sure enough, she’s wearing them unlaced with frilly white socks. So freaking cute I can’t help but break my own rule about letting her lead and kiss her cheek.

“You look amazing.”

“God,
why can’t I find a guy like you?” Tristan leans back with a sigh.

Delilah’s cheeks pink up, and I move away, giving her space. She reaches over and laces her fingers with mine. My heart skips a beat, and I swear it takes all my strength not to jump up and down and scream,
Yay! She’s mine! She’s mine!
I clear my throat to suppress the cheesy smile that’s fighting to part my lips and hope the
one I allow is not enough to make her retreat.

I don’t mind walking on eggshells for a little while.

“You will, Tristan,” Delilah assures him.

“Not anytime soon. I’m giving up on guys for a while.”

Tristan’s comment draws her attention. “Giving up on guys? Why?”

Tristan flicks an invisible piece of lint from his white tank top and looks out over the water. “After Ian I don’t
really trust my instincts. I think I need to take a step back.”

“You need to play the field and not care,” Brandon says as he comes out from the kitchen and stands beside Tristan. He does a pelvic thrust and raises his brows in quick succession. “You know what I say about getting over a guy.”

Tristan shakes his head. “I have no desire to get
over
or
under
another guy right now, thank you
very much. Get your package out of my face.”

Brandon sinks into the chair beside Tristan and eyes mine and Delilah’s linked hands. “Tristan, you should have been a lesbian.”

Tristan closes his eyes for a beat and shakes his head. “Do I even want to ask?”

“Seriously, dude.” He nods at me and Delilah. “Chicks make out and suddenly they’re in love and moving in together. We’re not like
that. Guys are about sex. Girls are about relationships.”

Uh-oh. This is one of those eggshell moments. He’s right. Women tend to move much faster toward relationships than men. I watch Delilah for signs of discomfort at his reference of moving in together. She’s playing with the fringe on her shorts.

“No shit, but I like dick, not vag.” Tristan slides an apologetic look to us. “Sorry.
I have to speak his language or else he’ll ramble on and on for an hour.”

Delilah shifts uncomfortably in her chair. She leans in closer to me and whispers, “He’s right. Brandon will keep pushing him.”

There’s nothing Brandon can say that shocks me anymore. Beneath his brash exterior is a big, loving heart. I still remember the day he set those almond-shaped dark eyes on me after I broke
up with Sandy. He saw I was hurting and said,
Not everyone is a prick. Come back with me to Harborside. You’ll love my friends.
 I don’t know if Brandon saw something in me that would click with Delilah, or if he meant his friends in general, but he was right. I needed this group of warm and wonderful friends, and Delilah? Well, I can’t imagine my life without her.

Brandon shrugs. “Whatever,
dude. It is what it is.”

“There
are
monogamous guys out there. Brandon just doesn’t look for them.” I smirk at Brandon, and he smirks right back.

“I’m not giving up for good—just taking a hiatus. No hookups. No searching for Mr. Right.” Tristan’s eyes warm as they glide over me and Delilah. “But I’m happy that you two found each other.”

Delilah blushes again and drops her eyes, but
her smile tells me that she is, too.

~Delilah~

ASHLEY AND I spent Tuesday night at her place. This time I actually made it through most of the evening without tearing her clothes off. It wasn’t easy, but I love spending time with her and I don’t want her to think that I only like her for sex.

Boy, is that a weird thought
.

Me using someone for sex?

Me. The lesbian virgin until just a few days
ago?

Weird. Definitely weird. But not as weird as knowing that the entire time she was getting ready for work this morning, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She moves so confidently and gracefully at the same time. She’s like the perfect woman.

My perfect woman
.

Our toothbrushes hang in the holder side by side. Our hairbrushes and elastic hairbands sit on the dresser. My clothes
are on the chair in the corner of her room, tucked beneath her hoodie and shorts. Seeing our stuff comingling has definitely had an impact on me. It makes me want to be comfortable outside of our homes with her, too. It makes me want to try harder.

I’ve been thinking about what Brandon said about girls and relationships and guys and sex, and although I think there is some truth to it, I also
think he has it a little skewed. Girls are about sex
and
relationships. Finding the one person in this world who understands me the way Ashley does, who is patient with my insecurities and
also
turns me on the way she does? I know our relationship is a rare gift, and I know I’ll never tire of being with her, emotionally or physically.

Before leaving her apartment for the day, I run down to
my Jeep and get the gift I bought for her yesterday. I had to have Brent give it to Brandon to bring to me so she wouldn’t find out, but it was worth the sneaking around. I make the bed and gather my things.  We’re staying here again tonight, so I leave my bag on the chair in the corner, then write a note in the card I brought and set the gift in the center of the mattress.

As I climb into
my Jeep I see a white paper stuck beneath the windshield wiper. I look around and don’t see any
No Parking
signs. With a heavy sigh I get out and snag it from the windshield.

Ashley’s handwriting makes me smile, but her words cut straight to my heart.

D, I miss you already. Xo, A

~Ashley~

IT’S THURSDAY. I hate Thursdays. I never used to hate them, but ever since Delilah fooled around with Janessa, Thursday has become my least favorite day of the week. I woke up feeling jealous and insecure an hour ago, and I’m lying here trying to hide it, but Delilah and I have become so in tune with each other that I know when she wakes up she’ll feel it
rolling off of me. She looks so peaceful sleeping beside me. I don’t want to ruin her day with my own insecurities, so I slip from my bed, tiptoe into the bathroom, and turn on the shower.

I step beneath the spray and close my eyes, hoping it’ll help clear my mind. The warm water soothes the tension that has my shoulders riding practically beneath my ears. I look down at the shampoo bottles,
and my heart squeezes with the sight of Delilah’s shampoo, her scented body wash, and her pink razor. How can these little everyday items hold so much meaning? I pick up her shampoo and open the cap, inhaling the scent. I feel myself smile even though it only sort of smells like Delilah. Her skin has a scent apart from all of these manufactured aromas that is purely her own.

Thinking about
Delilah brings me back to it being Thursday and Delilah attending group counseling tonight with Janessa. I’ve been able to put the image of Janessa touching her out of my mind for the past week, but now that it’s Thursday, it creeps right back in. Janessa is gorgeous, and I know she and Delilah are friends. I’ve noticed when she gets a text from Janessa she’s careful not to react too strongly in
front of me, although she never hides the texts or waits to answer them, and I appreciate that. I probably shouldn’t be jealous, given that I’ve been with other girls before I was with Delilah, and she doesn’t even ask about them. Well, other than Sandy, but I kind of offered her up, and Delilah never asked about the intimate side of our relationship.

I know Delilah needs the group sessions,
but I just don’t know how to get past this. She seems to gain something from them even when she says she doesn’t. Every day she gets a little more confident. When she first moved here, on the heels of her parents’ deaths, she was pretty withdrawn. I think moving back into the house with Wyatt after staying with Brooke was a big step in her moving forward and healing. When she moved to Brooke’s
she told me that Wyatt reminded her too much of her father, which made it hard for her to stay at the beach house. I know his fight at the Taproom also fed into her reasons for leaving, but knowing she was able to move back and push past the similarities between Wyatt and her father is huge.

I’ve also noticed a difference in the way she handles herself. She moves with more confidence around
the Taproom. I know her counseling sessions have a lot to do with her progress, and I’d never ask her to choose between the sessions and me. That would be totally unfair. But that doesn’t mean it didn’t cross my mind this morning when thoughts of her kissing Janessa were sailing through my mind.

My eyes fill with tears knowing that today my stomach will twist into worse knots than it already
has, and I’ll be nervous the whole time she’s there. It’s selfish. I know how she feels about me. She surprised me with a wet suit for goodness’ sakes, and left it on my bed with a card that said,
I wish I were always with you to keep you warm
. She cares about me a lot. I can feel it every time we’re close. She said she saw how cold I was the other morning and she couldn’t stand to see me shivering.
She was actually mad at the guys for not giving up their own wet suits. She’s so cute. I think there’s a protective side to her, similar to Wyatt’s, but she’s buried every feeling so deeply that she probably doesn’t even realize it’s in there somewhere.

I can’t wait to discover more about who she really is. I want to know everything about her, and I want her to know everything about me.

The shower curtain opens and Delilah peeks in. She’s told me that she’s never showered with anyone before, and this is another one of her baby steps. That’s what she calls them, even though I know they’re gigantic steps, and I’m so proud of her for trying that tears sting my eyes again as I reach for her hand.

I
never
cry, and Delilah brings tears to my eyes by stepping into the shower? I’m
in deep trouble.

She crosses her arms over her chest and looks at me with a sweet, embarrassed wrinkle of her brow. I kiss the worry lines away as I back her under the warm water and fold her into my arms. I feel her apprehension ease as the rigidity in her limbs dissolves and she becomes soft and pliable once again.

My Delilah.

I’m falling for you, Delilah.

Your vulnerabilities
and your insecurities and your strength to try to push through them. I’m falling for your sweet lips that are pressing against my shoulder and your gentle caress as you stroke my back. I’m falling for your voice, whispering in my ear.

“Do you mind that I’m in here?” Delilah asks so tentatively. I’m surprised she can’t feel in my touch how much I want to be with her.

“No. I always want
you with me.”

I’m falling for the way you make me feel full and whole and like a girly girl and a lover and your best friend. I’m falling for the way you’re turning my body so I’m beneath the warm spray, too.

I close my eyes and pull her close without telling her any of these things, even though keeping them inside is like trying to keep a lid on boiling water. I don’t tell her because
it’s Thursday, and she needs Thursdays, even if they scare the shit out of me.

~Delilah~

WHEN I DRIVE Ashley to the beach to meet Drake for her surfing lesson, it makes me feel even more like we’re a couple. It’s a small thing, driving her to her lesson, but it feels like another level of commitment, another level of opening my closet door and sticking my toe out. Testing the waters. Granted, there aren’t many people here yet, but there will
be soon.

I’m glad Ashley doesn’t mind if I tag along. I like watching her, and I feel better knowing that she has her wet suit to wear. I was working when she got home and found it on the bed. She called me when she opened it, and I could hear her sniffling over the phone. I’m not sure if she knew I could hear her, but I did. Ash is so strong all the time that hearing those emotions took me
by surprise. Just like this morning when I joined her in the shower. I could tell that she was upset when I first joined her, even though she told me she was fine. I felt her holding something back. But she never pushes me, so I didn’t press her about what it was. I assume she’ll tell me when she’s ready.

I brought my sketch pad so I can draw while Ashley works with Drake, but I can’t concentrate
on anything except watching her. I bury my feet in the sand, set my sketch pad aside, and bury my hands in her sweatshirt pockets. I’ve claimed this sweatshirt as my own. Not that she cares. I think she’d let me borrow anything, just like I’d let her.