The Private Serials Box Set (26 page)

   “Maybe you more than me,” I said, smiling.

   “Just because I can’t see your sand, doesn’t mean it’s any less important than mine.”

   His poignant words washed over me and I embraced the friendship I had built with him, even without speaking much.

   “Feel like getting a smoothie?  There’s a place right off the beach a few hundred yards up.  I usually go there after I run.  Get some protein in my system.”

   I looked over at him with a smile that I hoped was friendly.  “I didn’t bring my wallet with me.”

   “Tell you what, your first smoothie is on me.”  He stood up and started brushing the sand off his body, even though it was a futile effort.  Then he held both his hands out to me.  I looked up at him before I placed my hands in his, then he hoisted me up so fast I almost lost my balance.

   When he let go of my hands, I couldn’t help but notice the lack of electricity he left me with.  I didn’t feel any of the sparks just by touching him that I had with Preston.  He didn’t light me up, my heart was still beating at its normal pace, and I was left breathing evenly.  It was then I realized I might not ever feel the butterflies in my stomach again, might not ever feel hands on me that branded me with their heat.  And if I thought I’d been depressed over the last month or so, I was sorely mistaken.  A new wave of darkness washed over me with these thoughts and I had to hold back the tears.

   But I shook it off and turned back to Ryan.  “A smoothie sounds great.”

   I ordered some raspberry concoction that probably undid all the calories I’d worked off on my run, but it tasted fan-fucking-tastic.  Ryan was more responsible and had gotten a spinach, kale, coconut smoothie with a protein powder boost. Watching them pour it into his cup had made me gag.  He smiled at me, though, and held up his Styrofoam cup for me to tap mine against.

   “To falling in the sand,” he said, his eyes twinkling with a smile on his face.

   “To getting back up after you’ve fallen,” I responded, thumping my cup against his.  Ryan took a deep suck off his straw and I watched the green sludge make its way up and into his mouth, and I couldn’t help the grimace that stretched over my face.  “Does it taste as terrible as it looks?”

   He shook his head.  “It’s not that bad.”  He shrugged.  “I’ve had worse.”  Just then, I heard a beep coming from his pocket and he shifted as he reached inside and grabbed his phone.  He didn’t bring it to his ear, but tapped away at the screen, so I assumed he was texting someone.

   “Sister drama, again?”

   “Huh?”  he asked, looking up at me.  “Oh, no,” he laughed.  “Boyfriend drama.”

   “Oh,” I said instinctively.  “Oh!”  Then his words dawned on me.  It suddenly made perfect sense to me why there’d been no flirty vibes from him.  This realization made me feel exponentially better about spending time with him.  I did not need a man to complicate my life.  “He’s not a runner?”

   Ryan laughed loudly at my question.  “No.  No, he’s not a runner. He’s in great shape, but he’d rather do something extreme like snowboard or rock climb.  Running on the serene beaches of Hawaii isn’t really his idea of a good way to spend time outside.  Plus,” he said just before he took another sip of his torture drink, “Chance lives on the mainland.”

   “The mainland?”

   “Yeah.  You know, that big chunk of earth where the other forty-nine states are located?”

   “Ah ha.  The mainland.  Right.”  I sipped on my blissful raspberry smoothie.  “Doesn’t it suck being so far away from him?”

   “Yes, but business calls.  I’ve only been here for a few weeks and I’m hoping I can go home soon.”

   “Where’s home?”  I asked, feeling more comfortable with him by the minute.

   “All over, actually.  I have hideouts everywhere,” he said, not looking at me, but instead staring at his cup.  “How long have you lived here?”

   “A month or two.  I’m a transplant.”

   “What made you uproot?”

   I stared at Ryan for a moment, trying to figure out why I got the feeling he already knew the answer to his question.  “Needed a change in scenery and I’d never been here before.”

   He nodded but didn’t say anything in response.

   “I have to head home,” I said as I stood.  Ryan’s eyes followed me, but he made no move to stand.

   “Well, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

   We both just looked at each other, neither one of us saying anything, and I found myself wishing I could read his mind.

   “See you then.”

   That night, Becky surprised me by not coming home until late, and although she didn’t owe me an explanation, I was curious as to what had kept her out.

   She walked in looking frustrated, sighing loudly as she dropped her purse onto the couch then plopping down next to it.  I put my book down on my lap and looked over to her.

   “You okay?”

   She sighed again, then looked over at me.  “Things just aren’t going as they were supposed to.  My plan is unraveling.”

   “What plan?”  I’d never heard her talk about a plan.

   She didn’t answer right away, but I sat patiently waiting for her to open up to me.

   “There are things in my life that I regret.  I’ve made mistakes.  Part of coming out here was to make up for some of those mistakes.  But, I also wanted this to be a new start, a new beginning.  And I keep trucking along, doing what I think is right, but I also feel like nothing is happening the way it’s supposed to.”  She sighed loudly again.  “I’m tempted to throw the towel in.”  She looked over at me and her eyes went from frustrated to sad.  “There are just things I want to make right, but it’s not panning out the way I wanted to.”

   “What is it you want to make right?”

   She paused, swallowed, and then stood up.  She walked from the couch and went into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing a can of soda.  “It’s not important, Lena. It’s not my place to say anyway.”

   “Yeah, but if you’re upset about something then you should be able to talk about it with someone.”

   She was looking down at her soda, using her finger to flick the tab on it, refusing to meet my eyes.

   “I
have
been talking to someone, trust me. It’s just…” She took another drink, draining the soda in one long draw.  Then she tossed the can in the recycling bin under the sink.  “I can’t talk to you about it.”

   Before I could even formulate a response, she headed down the hall and disappeared into her room.  I heard the door shut and I just gaped at the spot in the kitchen she’d just vacated, mouth wide open in shock.  Becky had never, not once, been that short with me.  She didn’t seem angry, but she did seem upset.  Frustrated.  And it seemed as though part of her frustration was with me.  And I had no idea what in the world had gone wrong.

   I picked up my book and tried to continue reading, but my mind was drifting back to Becky and what she’d said.  What wrongs did she want to make right?  And why in the world couldn’t she talk to
me
about them?  Just when I thought I’d reached a point of frustration strong enough to inspire me to march down the hall and knock on her door, I heard her yelling from inside her room.  She was obviously in a heated discussion with someone and her voice was carrying right into the living room.

   “Listen, I know you’re trying,” she said, “but I can’t do this much longer.”  There was a pause.  “It’s not fair to anyone.” Pause.  “You have three days to get your shit together.”

   I didn’t hear any more yelling coming from Becky’s room.  In fact, I didn’t hear from her for the rest of the night.  Becky and I found ourselves in this living situation in a funny way – almost like fate.  Right place, right time.  But even though we’re roommates out of convenience, over the last month, I thought we’d become friends.  I didn’t want to lose the only person I’d befriended since I’d been here.  And what the hell was happening in three days?

   I went to bed hoping I’d hear Becky get into another yelling match with whomever was on the other end of her phone call just so I could eavesdrop and do a little more investigating of my own.

Chapter Five

   I ran with Ryan for the next three mornings, just like we had the week previously.  There were no more instances in which he made me nervous or gave off any weird vibes.  In fact, after his sand-eating incident, things between us were pretty friendly.  We chatted as we ran, well, as much as we could while running in the sand.

  I told him about my roommate and her weird tantrum followed by her strange phone call. He listened, but didn’t really have much advice to offer.  He chalked it up to “woman issues” and then changed the subject.

   On that third day, the day for which Becky had thrown down the gauntlet to her partner in arguments, I didn’t see her before I left the apartment to run and figured she was going to be gone for work before I came back home, so I wasn’t expecting to see her.  I was, however, curious as to whether the other person on the phone with her that night had come through for her and abided by this three-day timeline.

   As I was walking up the stairs to my apartment after my run, I caught a dark head of hair out of the corner of my eye.  The hair was attached to the head of a man whose back was to me, and whose leg was currently being lifted over the seat of a motorcycle. 

   All the breath was forced from my body, as if the sudden hollowness of my stomach couldn’t allow any extra room for oxygen.  I knew that hair. 

   The hair was suddenly covered up by a helmet, and that action made my eyes frantically move over his entire being.  My hand came to cover my mouth as a strangled sob escaped my lips.  Just below that helmet was a black leather jacket, wrapped around a man’s body that I would recognize anywhere.

  
Preston

   I moved to the top of the stairs just as the motorcycle roared to life.  The rumbling of the engine shook me, stopping me in my tracks.  I watched as this man expertly balanced on the bike, removing the kickstand, and then pulled out of the parking lot before I could get any closer.  I watched the bike drive away and then I turned, darting toward my apartment.

   I put the key in the lock with shaky hands, making it a hundred times more difficult.  When I finally made it inside, I ran directly to my room and found my phone on my nightstand.  I entered the phone number that I’d never forget and then brought it to my ear, listening to the line connecting.

   I heard Preston’s voice, but it was his voicemail message and it hurt too much to listen.  I wasn’t even sure what I would have said had he answered.  Everything at that moment was instinctive, gut reactions to what was happening around me.  I had all these puzzle pieces, but I couldn’t fit them together with my mind.

   Why was Preston here?  Why hadn’t he contacted me?  Was he here to see me?  To hurt me?  To find me and take me back to Derrek?  There were so many variables, so many things that could be happening, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling that out of control.

   I tried to call Becky, just in case he’d stopped by the apartment before she’d left for work, but she didn’t answer either. 

   I sat down on my bed and hung my head between my knees, trying to drag in calming breaths.  My mind was second guessing itself.  Maybe it wasn’t Preston.  Perhaps there was another man with a black leather jacket riding around Hawaii whose body called out to mine on a primal level.  I raised my head up and flopped back onto the bed.

   I couldn’t imagine spending a day at work with all these thoughts flittering through my mind, but the reality was I was new in my position and couldn’t risk missing a day.  I forced myself off the bed and made my way to the bathroom to get ready for work.

   To have thought I could spend a day working while I had visions of Preston riding a freaking motorcycle in paradise was ridiculous.  More than once I was caught by a co-worker in a daze and my productivity was atrocious.  Not only was I mentally consumed with reasons and ideas as to why Preston would even be in Hawaii, my body was like a drug addict who’d just broken their sobriety – I was craving a fix.

   I made my way home from work and just wanted to go inside and open a bottle of wine.  As I approached my apartment door, I could hear Becky’s voice softly coming through the walls and I was immediately relieved I wouldn’t be alone.  But then I heard a man’s voice and my heart started to beat faster in my chest.

   Again, my shaky hand inserted the key into the lock and when I got the door opened, I was confounded by what I saw in my living room.

   Becky was sitting on the couch and on the other side was Ryan.  I didn’t even bother stepping inside, I just gave them both curious looks and let my mouth flop open and then snap shut, much like a guppy.  I couldn’t even string words together to make a sentence.

   “Lena, why don’t you come sit down,” Becky said as she patted the cushion next to her.  Ryan didn’t say anything, but eyed me warily.

   I couldn’t explain why I did what she asked, but I had nothing better to do than listen to what she obviously had to say to me.  I placed my purse on the floor by the door and walked slowly to the couch, sitting next to her, my head moving back and forth as my eyes jumped from Becky to Ryan.

   “How do you two know each other?”  I finally managed to speak as the most obvious question came forth first.

   “We’ve known each other a while,” Ryan said.

   “Yeah,” Becky countered, looking directly into my eyes.

   “But how?” I whispered.  I had a feeling whatever they had to tell me was going to change everything I’d built here in Hawaii.  All I’d worked for here, the effort I’d put into moving on and making a new life for myself was going to come crashing down around me with their words.

   “He’s my brother.”

   My eyes bounced back and forth between the both of them as my eyes bulged.  “Your brother?”

   “Her older brother,” Ryan added.

   “Why didn’t you tell me your brother lived here?”  I asked her.