Page 82 of One More Chance

Harper

When we arrive backto the rental, Jensen suggests we swim first and eat afterward, so we make quick work of our bathing suits. Despite wanting to straddle each other while dressing, we manage to make it out to the beach without incident.

Hand in hand, we step into the waves lapping onto the shore, walking further in as we get used to the temperature. The water is cool and refreshing compared to the heat of the day. The sun overhead beats down on everything and I’m glad I remembered sunblock. I might be used to being outside in the sun, but it’s different here somehow. It’s not like back home.

We wade deeper until the water is approaching my chest and stop there as Jensen lets go of my hand so he can dip under and wet his hair. I do the same and lie back to float after I come up. The ocean water feels so amazing against my skin.

“I hope this trip has been everything you wanted, Harper.”

Jensen’s voice cuts through the calming sound of the waves and I find my legs again, moving toward him as quickly as I can. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I lift myself and curl my legs around his hips. He grips my backside as I look deep into his eyes.

“This trip is so much more than I ever thought possible.” I lean in and nudge my nose against his, coaxing him to give me his mouth. One of his hands trails up the side of my body and cups my jawline. I don’t know that I’ve ever been more desperate for someone’s touch.

He presses his lips to mine, my mouth immediately opening for him. I didn’t know it was possible to enjoy kissing this much.

We stay like this for a little while, holding each other and making out. I push away, a giggle escaping my throat, and start to swim. Jensen swims after me, catching up to me in no time, despite giving me a head start.

“Remember when we went swimming while we were camping?” he asks.

“Yeah?”

“God, I thought you were so sexy in that red bikini. This black one is equally sexy, by the way, I’m just saying. All I wanted to do was stare at you, but I tried so hard not to look directly at you.” His confession pours out like he’s been waiting to tell me ever since.

“I thought you were just as sexy in your swim trunks. I kept catching myself staring at your chest and had to look away.”

“I wouldn’t have minded if you didn’t,” he says.

My eyes meet his as I slow my swimming to a halt, his arms scooping under me once again. This time he begins carrying me up toward the shore, out of the water, trailing kisses down my neck, over my collarbone. I hold on as tightly as I can, realizing there’s more than one way I don’t want to let him go. I suppress everything for this moment, his hands gripping my flesh tightly, his lips moving over me, his chest pressed to mine.

“I want you,” I whisper against his ear. “I want you.” My breathing is shallow and jagged but my confession will be masked by the moment. I can say it without letting him know all that it means.

“I want you, too,” he groans, the words coming out almost pained.

For a moment, I allow myself to believe they could mean more, too.

* * *

We madelove three times before bed. Once when we came in from swimming and two more times after dinner. Each time, the movements became more passionate, more intimate.

After our shower, we let ourselves air dry, lying in bed naked together without touching. We talked until we started to yawn, laughed, and poured out more random confessions. Jensen hates wearing socks but also hates flip flops, which I find odd. I tell him I’ve been able to touch my tongue to my nose since I was a kid and he makes me show him multiples times. Of course, he fails when he tries.

He tells me after his parents got a divorce, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to get married but he eventually came to understand and accept not all couples are the same. I told him after Charles, I felt the same way. He tells me he hopes to be a father one day. I tell him I’ve always wanted to be a mother.

Now we’re lying here beneath the blankets, my head on Jensen’s chest as he snores lightly, his arms around me. I can hear his heart beating just beneath my ear. I’ve listened to him sleeping for the last several minutes and have decided if I could, I’d stick a recording device into his chest so I can hear his heart, always. As ridiculous as that sounds, I still find myself wishing for it.

A thought hits me like a sack of bricks as we position ourselves for bed. After this, I only get to sleep in his bed with him two more times. Two more times and then I’ll be on my flight back home.

Home is a funny word. We let things like houses define home, when really it’s the people who make it. Knowing this, thoughts of leaving feel more and more unsettling. The farm waits for me; the ground it rests upon is the only home I’ve ever known. I know no other and yet, part of me wants to. Part of me thinks maybe I could, that I’m ready. The rest of me is still the same girl I’ve always been. Too scared to leave, too worried about everyone else.

I try to think back to a moment, any moment, where I was just a little selfish. Any memory where I put myself first. Several silent moments float by, Jensen’s heartbeat and the gentle rhythm of his breathing the only sounds filling the air.

I realize I can’t think of a single one. No moment where I truly only focused on what I wanted.

That’s sad to me. It’s sad to think I’ve done that to myself. What’s worse is some things I know will never change.

This thought process is probably one of them.