has passed at all. There are no pleasantries to power through before we feel comfortable. We simply dive back into chatting about our day, our rants, our raves. It feels so good to have my friend back. When I asked her to come visit, I wasn’t even nervous. And when she said yes, I bolted up from my bed, bursting with excitement.
I’m itching to show her around the island I now call home, to take her to my favorite eateries and beaches. Comfort sets in. Before I know it, I’m beaming. Finally, after all the struggle and uncertainty, it feels like I earned my spot here on this island, like I belong. Like I’m home.
I’m nowhere near Baldwin Beach, but I whisper assurances to my dad, certain he’s listening.
“It’s all going to be good, Dad. Just like I promised.”
Before, I always had to be home or at Baldwin to feel connected to him. But right now, I feel closer to him than I ever have since he’s been gone. Because I know now that no matter where I am or where I go, he’s always with me.
I peer at the scene around me. Little Beach is exactly what I expected. Crazy crowded, a mix of clothed and naked beachgoers in the sand and water. I walk a few feet, staying at the edge of the beach, and drop my towel in the sand. Shedding my flip-flops, shorts, and tank top, I head for the shoreline. Instead of diving in, I curl my toes into the wet sand, the water lapping at my feet. I scan the waves ahead of me. A few dozen people swim and splash. I’ll need to take extra care not to run into anyone if I want to do proper laps today.
When I take a step forward, a large shadow appears next to me in the water. I twist to my right to acknowledge the person and make room. And then I promptly forget how to breathe, how to walk, how to talk.
Bare-chested Callum stands exactly one foot away from me. “Nikki.”
I open my mouth to say hello, but no words form. Only stuttered air. Clamping my mouth shut, I take a moment to swallow.
Breathe first, then talk.
“Callum,” I finally say.
“It’s so good to see you.” His words are a contrast to the indecipherable expression on his face. I can’t tell if he’s glad or upset that I’m here.
“I’m so happy to see you.” A breathy chuckle follows my words. It’s that laugh of disbelief that always comes when I’m overwhelmed or shocked. “How . . . What . . . How have you been?”
I bite my tongue, riding out the wave of embarrassment coursing through me. I guess my mouth didn’t hang onto the memo my brain just sent. My eyes do a measured once-over of his body. It probably looks like I’m ogling him, but I don’t care. My gaze moves slowly, like I’m surveying a swath of land I’m about to excavate. He looks good. Happy, even. In his shirtless state, I see that leanly muscled build I miss so much. His golden hair is cropped close to his scalp. He must have gotten a haircut recently. There’s about a week’s worth of blond stubble on his face too. He looks absolutely delicious.
His smile fades, the edge of it turning sad. “I’ve been all right. How have you been?”
“Um, okay.” Instinctively, I cross my arms. My eyes drop to my feet, which are now covered in wet sand. I jerk my gaze back up at him. “Work’s been busy.”
“I heard.”
One corner of his mouth curves up into the sweetest, most endearing half smile ever. I could cry, it’s so damn beautiful. And after tonight, I’ll probably never see it again.
“I took your advice,” I blurt, just to keep from bursting into tears.
His faces turns curious. “Oh?”
“I reached out to one of my friends in Oregon. Madeline. She’s coming to visit me.” I swallow, commanding the tears not to fall. “You were right. She understood everything, just like you said she would.”
This time when he smiles, it’s with his eyes. His entire face is warmth and softness. It makes my heart thud so hard, I’m scared it will fly out of my chest.
“I’m so happy to hear that.”
“Are you really? Happy, I mean.” The words fall out before I realize what I’ve said. But I want to know. I have to know. Even after all we’ve been through, after how things ended between us,