Tommy’s hands slip underneath the pajama top I don’t remember putting on last night. His fingers feel cool on my back and I don’t want to wait any longer. I want his hands, his skin, his lips, on every part of me.
Knowing we don’t have much time to waste, I sit up and slip the shirt over my head before doing the same to his. I hesitate for a second too long, my eyes lingering on his chest, imagining the tumors hiding beneath the surface. Tommy notices and takes charge, flipping me over so I’m lying on my back. I smile before pulling him down to me. Lying beneath him, with his weight holding me down, I feel safer than I have since our lives turned upside down.
Tommy’s touch is both gentle and firm. I wrap my arms around him, holding him as close as I can. I relinquish all control and let him show me that he’s still very much alive.
AFTERWARD, AS WE lie together, Tommy kisses the top of my head. “I would have told you sooner if I knew it meant I’d keep getting lucky.”
“You have to stop making a joke of this. It’s not funny.”
“Of course it isn’t.” He kisses my forehead, then my cheek, and then my neck. “It’s just my coping mechanism.”
“I love it when you talk shrinky to me.”
“You hate it,” Tommy says, propping himself up on his arm. “Promise you won’t start lying to me, you’ll stay real.”
“I promise.” And from this moment forward, I will. He doesn’t need to know that I didn’t tell him the real reason I don’t want to go to Destin.
He lowers himself for one more kiss before rolling over to get his shirt. I watch him, so strong both physically and emotionally. I’m ashamed to admit what he’s too polite to say, that I’ve failed him the past few days.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” He sits back down on the bed beside me.
“For everything. The way I’ve been acting—you’re the one who’s sick, and here I am, falling apart.”
“It’s okay,” he says, forgiving me too easily.
“It’s not. But starting today, I’m back,” I tell him. “I’m here, just let me know what I can do. What can I do?”
“You can be here, loving me.”
“Done. What else?”
“You can try to understand . . .” I know the words aren’t easy to find, so I reach up and rest my hand on his cheek. “I know you don’t agree with me, but you can try to understand my decision.”
I bite my lip. That’s the one thing I don’t know if I can do. I look past him to where the notepad sits, full of hope.
“And you can reconsider going to Destin.”
The other one thing I don’t know if I can do.
As quickly as it disappeared, the tension I’ve been carrying around for days is back, making itself at home across my shoulders and down to my toes. Anything else I would do for him. Anything.
I don’t really think Tommy has a clue that Monica is back in Destin. Not that it would matter much to him if he did; he doesn’t have as much to lose. I’m not exactly jealous of her anymore. I don’t doubt for a second that he loves me. But I also know better than to underestimate the attraction to a beautiful woman and the power of fame.
And CeCe. The town’s just too small, and it’s too risky. If she finds out, she’ll think Monica is the reason I haven’t wanted her to pursue acting. But that’s not all of it. I’ve been on the other side of the casting couch, seeing over a hundred girls audition for a part that only one girl will get. The part that ninety-nine girls won’t. Being a teenager is hard enough without willingly putting yourself out there for people to reject you.
Plus, it wouldn’t be fair leaving Becky alone to handle everything back here. I made a commitment to her when we went out on our own to open the agency. She would have been happy to go on working for someone else, but she believed in me and my dream of opening up a woman-owned agency that could compete with the old boys’ clubs. I convinced her to walk away from a steady paycheck, from our 401k match and insurance plans we didn’t have to think or worry about.
“I just want one more summer,” he says, trying his best to convince me. I know he hates