my knees, the position of my hands. The length of my breaths. Slower. Deeper. Heavier. Everything magnifies. He laces his fingers into mine, and I almost melt. The smart version of me should pull my hand away. Smarter me should paraphrase Leigh and say, “Shit or get off the pot, bucko.” Sex-starved me, however, stumbles forward.
He leads me to Tahuna Beach, a short walk down a path across the road. It’s early evening, and he’s quiet as we walk, our fingers still bound, the shivers spreading down my spine having nothing to do with the cool breeze. He’s been quiet a lot the past couple of days. Still joking like he does, but thoughtful in his silence. I’m not sure what’s up with him, but I’m hoping it has to do with him finally deciding to end things with Lacey.
When we reach a secluded sandy spot, he tugs on my hand and turns me to face him. “Hi,” he says.
My heart skips a beat. “Hi,” I say shyly, recalling where we were when we last spoke like this. By the way his eyelids lower, I’m guessing he remembers, too.
“I’ve been wanting to get you alone for a while. Not easy with Leigh around all the time.”
I cringe. “Sorry. I know you two don’t get along great. I just think it’s better for her not to travel on her own. So thanks, you know, for putting up with her.” I wish I could explain Leigh to him. She’s so used to laying it on thick and putting on a show that she can’t tone it down and let people in. Where I crave anonymity, she craves attention—both of us trying to convince people we’re someone else. We’re two halves of the same whole.
He crosses his arms and digs his boot into the sand. “She told me, by the way. That she’s gay. I thought she was like the Rizzo to your Sandy just waiting for the right moment to humiliate you. I get her now. She’s still a raging bitch, but I can deal with her.”
I exhale, relieved, that he finally knows, but I can’t imagine what changed her mind. Grenade Leigh wouldn’t confide in Sam. She also wouldn’t share a smile with him after a verbal thrashing. I try to puzzle it out, but it’s hard to focus on anything besides Rizzo and Sandy. “Did you just make a Grease reference?”
He looks around as if I must be talking to someone else in this crowd of two. “No, Canada, you must have misheard me. What I said was she’s like the rock to your scissors. You know, like the game rock-paper-scissors. She’ll crush you every time.”
“Actually, I have above average hearing, and my understanding is you love movies with well-choreographed scenes and heartfelt ballads. I just want to know, for the record, which is your favorite: Mamma Mia or High School Musical?”
He shakes his head, his focus on the ground. “My sister watches that stuff. Not me. I just, maybe, get sucked in from time to time.” He looks up, smirking. “And the answer I’m not admitting to is definitely High School Musical. I’m also not admitting that I played Kenickie in my school production of Grease.”
“You didn’t?”
“I did. There was a certain Marci Fray playing Sandy. Unfortunately, she fell for Danny. Totally predictable.”
“Sounds heartbreaking.”
He agrees with a solemn nod. It’s fun when we joke like this, the easy back-and-forth. I feel my whole face smiling. “Is there a video I can watch?”
“Only if I get to see the ‘Age of Aquarius’ number.”
“Never going to happen. But let me get this straight…you watch musicals and you starred in one. Do you belong to a book club, too?”
He shoots me a mock glare. “You just started a war, Canada.”
Next thing I know, I’m on the sand with Sam above me tickling my ribs. I squeal and wiggle and twist until he smiles, triumphant. Then his grin fades. He’s straddling me, both of us breathing heavy, his unmistakable erection pressed between my thighs. Shoot. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not unless he brought me here to tell me he and Lacey are done. If that is why I’m here, then I should be wearing my nice pink bra, not the plain white cotton one I’ve been in all day. I should have showered and brushed my teeth and, I don’t know, worn my skirt instead of borrowing Leigh’s ridiculously tight jeans.