Chapter 8

Paul steered us into the pullout for the overlook, and even though we could have enjoyed the view from the car, I climbed out anyway and sat on a bench. It was conveniently placed to provide an ocean backdrop for dumping people who were in all ways perfectly acceptable and somehow still not right for you. I burrowed into my sweatshirt against the chilly breeze.

Paul sat beside me, and I drew a steadying breath before turning toward him with a gentle smile. “So I’ve been thinking—”

“Me too,” he said, picking up one of my hands and lacing his fingers through it. He wasn’t usually an interrupter, but now his eyes shone, and the words tumbled out of him like he couldn’t help himself. “I know we’ve kept things casual for the last five months while we both focused on work, but now that you’ve got a promotion, and I’m about to get one, I was thinking we should—”

“Paul.” I couldn’t let him get the words out. I owed him that much. I slid my fingers from his, and the excitement in his eyes dimmed. He pressed his lips together and looked at my hand, the one I’d drawn away to resettle in my lap. “You’re getting a promotion? That’s great.”

He was no dummy. “What’s going on, Emily?”

My eyes wanted to drift away, to focus on the ocean or the clouds or anything but the confusion on his face. But that wasn’t fair, so I returned his gaze while I searched for words. “The last few months with you have been so great. I honestly saw it going on like that indefinitely, maybe even growing into something else. And this is the point where it should feel like that, right? Like the point where it’s time to take the next step. I’m worried that’s what you were going to say we should do next, but I don’t want you to. I’m not sure I understand why, but I don’t think I’m ready for that.”

He straightened so he was turned toward the water instead of me and rubbed his hands up and down his thighs in short, nervous movements. Finally, he said, “I’m surprised.”

I sighed. “Me too.”

A long silence fell between us before he broke it. “I’m fine with waiting. When you get the hang of your new job, we can revisit this.”

He was taking it with so much grace, I hated what I had to say next. “I don’t think this is going to change with time. I feel a restlessness I can’t explain when we’re together. I don’t know what it means, but I think my instincts are trying to overpower my brain for once.”

“And for once you’re going to let them?” His tone was flat.

“For once I’m going to let them.”

He nodded, not looking at me. He shuffled his feet in the dirt, then leaned down to pick up a small pebble and throw it out toward the ocean. He didn’t bother to see where it landed. “Why didn’t you say something before we started this big day?”

“Because I didn’t know. I think there’s been something bubbling up for a little while, and being on that sailboat cleared my head. And then I couldn’t unsee it. I’m really sorry.”

He winced. “Don’t apologize. It makes me feel pathetic.”

“Sorry. For apologizing.”

The corner of his lips quirked up the tiniest bit. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little bit funny.”

He looked at me at last. “All right. Maybe a little.”

I reached down to scoop up another pebble and handed it to him. “Here. Throw that one.”

He took it. “Why?”

“I don’t know. That last one seemed to make you feel better.”

“True.” He chucked it toward the water, watching as it fell this time. “I don’t know why that works.”

“Are you imagining each one hitting a shark on the head?”

“What?”

“Nothing.” But it’s what I would’ve done, and it definitely would’ve improved my mood if my boyfriend had just dumped me for no reason.

He turned back to me. “I’ve still got the car all day, and I still know the best place to get fish and chips down the coast a little bit. Let’s go. Let’s just drive, and maybe I can find more rocks to throw.”

“I don’t know. That feels like it could get…”

“Awkward?” he finished. “For me, maybe. But I’m not planning to change your mind at all, so it shouldn’t be awkward for you. I just hate the idea of wasting this rental.”

Good old practical Paul.

“If I can stand to finish this drive, you probably can too,” he added. “You already did the hard part, right?”

“True.” He was being remarkably chill. “You really want to do this?”

He shrugged. “Sure. And it allows me to play this cool and save my dignity. But that playlist is toast.”

I laughed. “I’m in.”

It shouldn’t have surprised me that Paul had taken it so well. I should’ve predicted it based on his practicality. But honestly, a little anger would be good for him. I’d have to ask Jack to Photoshop a shark getting bonked on the head with a rock so I could send it to Paul and title it, “Therapy.”

Although…he’d probably realize it came from Jack. And that was probably the last person Paul wanted to think about.

Actually, Jack was the last person I should be thinking about either.

And yet it kept happening. Ah, dang.

Dang, dang, dang.