CHAPTER TWO
Chelsea
The alarm chirped cricket sounds for the fourth time. I threw the sheet off my chest and kicked the quilt to the end of the bed. 5 a.m. Who in their right mind woke up at 5 a.m.? I tapped the screen on my phone to quiet the alarm. This wasn’t the first time I had cursed my alarm as I stumbled to the shower and turned the water on.
There were water restrictions this time of year on the island. So many tourists, so little rain, and only seven minutes a shower. It was my mother’s idea to use a kitchen timer. I twisted the dial to the right and placed the timer on the counter before stepping into the steady stream of hot water. If I had to take a quick shower, it was going to be a good one.
I closed my eyes and lathered a handful of shampoo through long strands of auburn hair.
He shouldn’t be stealing my heart and my breath
We said good-bye with one very last kiss
But no matter what, every corner I turn
I see his face, his eyes, and it burns, it burns
I raced to stop the water and hopped over the side of the tub. There had to be paper in here somewhere. I tore through the first cabinet drawer and then the other.
“Ugh,” I exhaled, and then wrapped a towel around my chest before scurrying into my room.
My writing notebook was still in my bag, and that was in the front seat of my car. I repeated the words in my head faster this time, hoping they didn’t slip away as quickly as they had appeared.
“Ah-ha!” I triumphantly pulled an envelope from a stack of unopened mail.
Pens were easier to find. I grabbed a ballpoint next to the bed and frantically jotted down the lyrics on the back of the envelope. I read them again aloud and hummed a few bars in a minor key. I smiled.
A shampoo trail slid along my temple. “Shit.”
I touched the foamy mess still in my hair and hesitantly left the envelope on the bed, walking back to the shower with one eye on the envelope. Maybe if I stared hard enough, the rest of the song would come.
Not knowing how much time I had actually spent in the shower before my burst of lyrical genius, I reset the timer for five minutes and rinsed my hair.
The lyrics came at the strangest moments. Sometimes it happened when there was a guitar on my knee and my writing journal within arm’s reach, but usually it was completely inconvenient and random like this morning—the words hit me like an unexpected burst of energy, needing to be expended in that moment or I would spontaneously combust—at least it always felt that way.
I twisted my hair between my palms and squeezed out the water. I didn’t want to go to work before the whole song had hit me in the face like a blast of cold air from the freezer. The thought of standing in the store all day made me grit my teeth.
I needed to finish it. I had to. If I called in sick, my mother would stop by, setting off a chain reaction from my aunts that would last all day. If I tried to take the day off, my father would never cease with the lectures on responsibility and setting a good example for the other employees.
Good example, I huffed. His every move was a bad example. It annoyed me to the core how self-righteous he was when I knew how he spent his nights and sometimes his afternoons. Just being in the same room with him made me sick.
He gave me one more reason to leave Brees Island. I wasn’t finished chasing my dream, and the longer I stayed, the more I had to put it on hold. Just like the lyrics on the back of that envelope.
I grabbed a towel and dried myself before stepping into a pair of khaki shorts and a fitted T-shirt with the logo for the island store where I worked.
It was dark as I walked to the side of the cottage. It was an oversized beach house that had been divided into four apartments. I had one of the lower corner units. There was a view of the cove from the deck. Luckily, the last renter had left a hammock, and it was my favorite spot to write.
It had been a battle with my parents to have my own place for the summer. They couldn’t understand why I didn’t want to live at home. Did every grad student have to deal with this, even at twenty-five? I had the master’s degree, I just needed a little bit of time to figure out what was next. It would have been completely unbearable living under the same roof as my dad. There was no backing down on my part. I fought until they both gave in.
I pulled a turquoise beach cruiser from the bike stand. The island was small. Everything was within riding distance. I rode to most places, enjoying the snippets of freedom the bike gave me. I threw my leg over the bike and pushed down on the pedal.
***
The door slammed behind me as I walked into the store.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Derek beamed as I reached behind him for an apron.
He moved closer so that my arm grazed the firm muscles in his shoulder. When he was this close I could see deep flecks of amber in his dark eyes.
“Hey.”
I stepped back, slipped the straps over my neck, and tied the strings tightly around my waist. Nothing was more unflattering than these canvas aprons my father made everyone who worked at Davis’s General Store wear.
“I’ve had better greetings,” Derek teased.
He had stopped sweeping. He leaned against the broom handle with one arm while his free hand roamed my hip, resting on the curve of my waist. His palm felt warm through my thin T-shirt.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m not a morning person. You know this.” I tugged at his wrist, working myself free.
“I wouldn’t forget something like that.” He smiled. I noticed he was overdue for a haircut. Most surfers let their hair grow long in the summer. Derek wasn’t any different.
“Just stop with the chipper-chipperness,” I warned.
My cheeks flushed pink with the memory of waking up under Derek’s tanned arms. That had been two days ago. I glanced over his shoulder and read the clock above the register. 5:45. Even with rushing around, I was still fifteen minutes late. God, I had to get out of here.
Derek gripped the handle and turned his attention to the strokes of the broom across the store’s hardwood floors. “Got it.”
I hadn’t meant to snap at him. He was just being Derek, and I was doing what I always did—lashing out at him when he was only being nice. But, it was too familiar, too intimate. True, things had taken an awkward turn since we had made out after Paul McIntire’s bonfire party. But somehow I had convinced myself we could do those things to each other in the dark under the influence of too many red cups, and it would magically disappear when we worked together at the store. It didn’t go as planned. It never did.
“Der, I’m—” Before I could complete the apology, my father barged through the back hallway. I bristled when he appeared.
“Chelsea? You late again?” He avoided my eyes and looked at Derek for an answer.
Unbelievable. This happened almost every morning and every morning Derek covered for me, but this time I didn’t deserve for my ass to be saved.
“Chelsea was here, sir. Right on time.” Derek circled around, concentrating on the dust pile and not my eyes.
“Good. Derek, would you mind giving me a hand? There’s a delivery out back on the docks. Bait shrimp’s in.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Davis.” Derek winked as he handed his broom to me. “Maybe you could finish this for me.”
“Uh. Sure.” I took the handle and watched as the two men disappeared into the hallway’s delivery entrance.
Derek would give me a hard time about the whole thing. He always did. If he thought covering for me would lead to more alone time, he had the wrong idea about what had happened between us.
Things had gradually escalated in the past month since I came home after graduation. It started with an accidental kiss in the shadows of the employee parking lot after work, and then one night the kiss moved to the backseat of the car when I thought we had technically rounded second base. It was as if Derek had transformed into the hot new guy while I was gone for two years. Everything about his body was new to me.
I secretly admitted I liked getting to know this side of him, but there was one thing about him that hadn’t changed. He wasn’t interested in stepping one toe off the island, and I didn’t want to keep one toe on it. No amount of flirting or hot kisses could change that.