Page 18 of Made For You
“I have four cameras in the back,” he tells me, and I Iook up, seeing said cameras. “I’m making sure I don’t smash into your boat.”
“Yeah, if you could not do that, I would appreciate that very much,” I joke with him as he puts the boat in park. He walks down the stairs, coming over.
“Ready?” he asks me, and I want to flip him the bird. He picks up the black rope and tosses it to me. I catch it, smiling over at him like, “take that,” and he tries not to smile but fails. “You need to tie that one to that cleat.” He motions to the cleat in the front. I nod at him, and he walks into the boat, sitting in the captain’s chair inside. I wait for him to back up the boat more. When he finally gets it backed, I squat down and tie the boat exactly how he taught me.
I get up, and he comes out. “Do you have to tie one more?” I ask him, and he tosses me the other rope, which I catch again. I pull it tight before making three loops. Once it’s tied, I get up and dust off my hands. “I did it,” I say more to myself than to him. I put my hands on my hips and look at my handiwork, feeling especially proud of myself. “Take that,” I huff as he jumps on the dock and smirks at me before he hooks up his electricity and water. “You’re welcome,” I call to him as I walk past him, and I hear him laugh again. I want to ignore how I get goose bumps. Instead, I blame it on the nonexistent wind.
“Where are you going?” he asks me, standing up, and I turn around to look at him. He’s in shorts and a white shirt. I can’t see his eyes because of the sunglasses.
“I’m going to go and give myself a high five,” I tell him honestly, and then he throws his head back and lets out the biggest laugh yet.
“Come on,” he says, motioning with his head as he walks past me and onto his boat. “I owe you a drink.”
I look at him, my eyebrows pinching together, and I wonder if I heard him right. “I’m sorry?” I ask, not sure what the hell is going on.
“You helped me out,” he replies, standing on his back deck, “by tying my ropes.” I tilt my head to the side as Beatrice comes over to me and circles my legs. “So for that, I owe you.” He turns walking into the cabin and over to the side panel where he clicks switches on.
“Is this a ploy?” I ask Beatrice. “Is he for real?” All I can do is stand on the deck, watching him as he makes his way to the captain’s chair inside and turns off the boat.
He then walks to the middle of the boat, looking out, putting his glasses on his head. “I’ll grab you a beer.”
Go home, my head yells out, but my feet are in control. Instead of just walking to my boat and ignoring him, just like he did me all those times, I walk over and step on his boat for the first time. “This should be fun,” I mumble.
CHAPTER12
XAVIER
I walk outto stand on my back deck. “You helped me out.” I can hear the words coming out of my mouth at the same time as the ones in my head tell me toshut up. “By tying my ropes.” I watch Beatrice walk over to her, and I shake my head.Did we not just talk about this?I think to myself, but instead, I look at Vivienne. “So for that, I owe you.” I turn, walking to the side panel where I click on the electricity.
When I took up the anchor before, I was really hoping her family would be gone by the time I got back. I had wasted all day out there on the water and it was time to head back before high tide came in. I mean, technically, I could have stayed out all night, anchored there, but then what, was I never going to come back? So I started the boat and took my sweet time sailing back. The view and being on the water calmed me. My hands started to sweat a little when I knew I was getting closer, but I pushed through it. “It’s going to be fine,” I told Beatrice, who at this point was just lounging, living her best life. The yacht club got closer and closer, and I did a deep exhale when I pulled into my row. When I didn’t see anyone on the top of the boat, I thought I had escaped. What I wasn’t expecting was for her to look around the back of her boat at me. I focused on backing up my boat, and not hitting hers. I wasn’t expecting her to walk off her boat and come onto the dock. I also wasn’t expecting her to ask me if I needed help. I should have just told her no, but that is how we do it at the dock. Everyone helps out if they can. “Can I help?” she asked me, and I thought about telling her no, but the reality of it was I needed help securing the lines. She made me laugh when she asked me to throw it directly at her. The sound of my laughter was even foreign to my ears. When I went back in to park the boat, I thought about the last time I laughed. I couldn’t even remember. I parked the boat, looking out at her, watching her hands tying the knots. She tied one and then moved on to the other. The smile on her face was contagious, making me smile. She gave herself props, dusting her hands off as she did it.
I walk back looking out, putting my sunglasses on the top of my head. “I’ll grab you a beer.” I motion with my head, even though everything in me tells me this is a bad idea. That I should leave well enough alone. I already dodged a bullet with her father and brother today. How many times was that going to happen?
From the looks of things, they might be here more this summer, the inevitable was going to happen. I just didn’t want her to then turn around and tell them I was a dick to her. Not that it mattered, but I still didn’t want to be that guy. I didn’t want to be the man who I myself hated.
The walk over to the fridge is maybe ten steps, but it feels like it’s shorter. Opening the other drawer and bringing out the bottle opener, I take the top off. “Do you want a glass?” I ask over my shoulder, finding her sitting at the back bench talking to Beatrice. That dog knows everyone’s secrets. I laugh to myself. It’s a good thing she can’t tell any of mine.
“No.” She looks up, and I see that her green eyes look almost blue in the sun. Grabbing myself a bottle of water, I walk back out to her.
“Here you go.” I hand her the beer, her finger grazing mine as she grabs it. Her hair blows in her face from the breeze as she tucks it behind her ear.
“Thank you,” she says as I turn around and grab a chair to sit at instead of going to sit next to her on the bench. I sit down facing her, giving me a full view of her.
I put my ankle on my knee, holding up my bottle of water. “To loop de loops.” She throws her head back and laughs at that. She’s wearing a loose white tank top, so I can see her whole neck. I have this image flashing in my head of me sitting next to her with my arm around her shoulders, leaning in and kissing her on her neck. I blink twice to make the image leave my brain.
“To loop de loops.” She holds up her beer and takes a sip. “Are you not having a beer?” she asks when she sees me take a sip of my water.
I shake my head. “I don’t drink,” I admit, and I wait for it. For the questions that always come after I declare I don’t drink.Why don’t you drink? What happened? Are you in AA? You can have one drink? How come?I brace myself for what comes next. Waiting. But instead of asking me the questions, she just nods her head at me, rendering me speechless and in shock. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
Beatrice gets on the bench next to her and lies down, putting her head on Vivienne’s leg. Vivienne’s hand comes to rub Beatrice’s head. “Why would I ask you why?” She tucks one of her legs under her other.
“Because it seems everyone does.” For the first time, I’m honest about things. I never had the balls to say what I wanted to say. Always guarded in what I said. It took lots of therapy to make me be okay with speaking my mind. It took months of therapy to realize that what I wanted to say mattered. It also went against everything I had said to myself while I played hockey. Their motto: hide everything. At the end, I was even hiding myself.
“Well,” she says, taking another sip of the cold beer. “I figured if you wanted me to know why you weren’t drinking, you would have said, ‘no, I don’t drink because…’ and then you would have given me your reason.” She looks at me, her hair flying again in the wind. I can’t help but wonder how her hair would feel between my fingers. Just the thought makes my stomach tighten and my heart speed up. “But you didn’t, so it means that you aren’t going to share. Which means it’s none of my business.”
“Just like that?” I ask her. This whole thing has put me on edge and pushed me out of the bubble I’ve created for myself in the last two years. A bubble that consisted of four people. Beatrice. Shelly, my therapist, Steven, my friend and co-captain, and Miles, my agent. A bubble that my therapist wanted me to expand. A bubble I wasn’t ready to expand, or perhaps I was. Maybe this was a sign to make another friend. Or it could have also been the sign I didn’t need another friend and was fine the way I was.
“Just like that,” she confirms as she takes another sip of the beer. “How was the water today?” Her eyes light up just a touch more when she asks me.