Page 39 of A Not-So Holiday Paradise
“Only the ones I get stranded on islands with,” I say. I press my chilled hands to my warm cheeks before admitting, “I’ve actually never kissed anyone before.” Though I’ve had a few near misses—guys leaning in clumsily while I turn my head to give them my cheek instead.
Beckett blinks a few times but doesn’t look at me. “Do you not date?”
And it hits me what a strange conversation this is to be having at a yell while on a speedboat after being stuck together all night.
“I date,” I say anyway. “I date a lot, actually. But it’s just a string of first dates. It never goes anywhere.”
I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “You date a lot, huh? Does your brother know that?”
“I will take this chance to remind you,friend, that as a woman in her midtwenties, I do not need to tell my brother everything.”
He nods—one short jerk of his head. “That’s fair.” Then he glances over at me, his smile gone. “Well, I’m honored that I would have been your first,” he says, his words coming out awkwardly, like this conversation is completely new territory for him. For all I know, it might be. “Your brother would kill us if we kissed, though,” he says. “You know that, right?”
I nod. “Yeah, I know,” I say with a sigh. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask what happened to doing what I want to do rather than doing things to please other people, but I hold it in. Even if Wes weren’t an issue, there would be other stumbling blocks in our path. Speaking of which…“Hey, you’re doing a good job having an entire conversation without glowering at me.”
“I’m trying not to overthink anything,” he says, and it’s such an honest response that for a moment I don’t know what to say.
“That’s good,” I finally come up with. “I can be your safe space. I’m serious,” I add when he snorts. “For real. I mean it. If you just need one person you can trust not to judge you or whatever…I’m your girl.”
He raises his brow at me, a move that’s mostly obscured by the way the wind is flattening his hair over his forehead. “What qualifies you for that position?” he says.
I’ve been in love with you for years, I tell him in my head.No one will give you the benefit of the doubt like I will.
“You’re part of the family” is what I say instead.
His expression fades into something more like concern, his brow furrowing as he stares through the windshield. “Your parents are going to be so mad at me,” he mutters.
I blink at him, and my lips purse as I frown. “Why would they be mad at you?”
“For all this,” he says, gesturing vaguely around us with one hand. “The storm, getting stuck. All of it.”
“Ah,” I say slowly, nodding. Then I grab my bag and begin to dig.
“What are you doing?” he says.
“I’m looking for my phone. I’m going to try to get it to work so I can change your name to Zeus, since you’re under the impression you’re responsible for what the weather does.”
He rolls his eyes. “Ha, ha.”
“This is exactly what I meant, Beckett,” I say, casting my bag aside again. “They won’t be mad. You don’t need toearnmy family’s love. My parents adore you. They’re not going anywhere. Neither am I—arewe,” I correct myself quickly. “Neither are Wes and I. And for that matter”—I’m getting fired up now—“it was not your fault that we got stuck out here. You’re not in charge of the weather. If you want to blame someone, blame my mom. She was the one who made us stay behind.”
Beckett blinks at me, looking surprised. “I don’t particularly want to blame anyone—”
“Then don’t blame yourself either,” I say.
“Whoa,” he says. “Calm down.”
“Well, I just think it’s stupid,” I huff. “You’ve got this idea in your head that if you make mistakes, people won’t love you anymore. And it’s not true. It just…isn’t.”
“All right,” he says quickly. “It’s not true. I get it. Calm down. Just drop it.”
“No,” I say, folding my arms over my life-jacket-clad chest. I pin him with a look that says I mean business. “You told me not to say yes all the time, and I don’t feel like dropping this yet.”
Silence.
“Didn’t you?” I prod. “Didn’t you tell me just this morning to stop being a people-pleaser?”
“I—yeah,” he finally says, scrubbing one hand down his face before placing it back on the steering wheel. “I did. But don’t be a bulldozer either. Be considerate.”
