Are we being followed?
Is it because of Noah? He’s a famous figure, so it wouldn’t be surprising.
Or am I just being paranoid?
Yeah, that’s probably it.
I’m too lost in my mind that my heart trips over when Noah reaches out to grab my hand with his free one, loving the way my hand fits in his rough one, as if it was made for me.
Stop deluding yourself, my mind whispers, and alittle bit of my smile falls.
Focusing on our destination and the reason I brought him here, I help him spread the blanket on the fine gray sand, a little farther away from prying eyes, before we both sit down.
This beach is about forty-five minutes outside the city limits, so no issue of someone catching us together. After the last game, I thought I should bring him here so he can let go of the stress of the playoffs he holds so tight in his broad shoulders.
We both stay quiet and dig into the food I prepared.
I look at the scenic view and take a deep breath of the Atlantic air. The people and families mill about: playing in the sand, the children making forts, and couples spending quality time together.
Most people are wearing full clothes since it’s only May, and it can get cold here. But some women are wearing sexy bikinis, showing off their perfect figures. They look stunning.
My chest aches when I think of Noah. He can easily have that. Why would he ever want someone like me? Someone who can’t even confidently wear a bikini in public.
I envy the ease with which these women own their bodies. It isn’t just the lean women; curvy women are confident all the time, commanding attention and respect from everyone around them.
It’s just not me.
I know I’m seeing Nancy for it, but it’s gonna take time for me to be the woman who wears a bikini on a beach and doesn’t shy away. I don’t mind, though. Recovery and therapy are not a uniform journey.
Noah’s voice pulls me out of my reverie. “Can I ask you a question?”
I turn to find his knees folded as his forearms rest on them, his cap turned backward now that there’s hardly anyone here as the day begins to settle.
God, he looks gorgeous like this, the soft rays falling on his face, highlighting his high cheekbones and deep green eyes.
“Go ahead,” I nod at him, pulling my feet closer as I sit cross-legged.
“Why don’t you ever curse? I’ve never heard you lay it into someone with words like that?”
The genuine curiosity on his face as he asks me this startles a surprised laugh out of me, my handcovering my mouth because I can’t control it.
Noah doesn’t appreciate that, as his brows settle into a frown, lips tight as he grunts at me. Though I spy the hidden tilt of his lips upward when I continue to chuckle.
Bringing him to the beach was a great idea, I think.
Once I’ve managed to calm down a bit, I clear my throat and reveal, “It’s stupid. But I’m a teacher, and I enjoy teaching and shaping kids into better humans for tomorrow, being there to revel in their happiness when they learn something new.” I heave a deep sigh, turning to look at the sun making the ocean shimmer, giving hope, easing worries.
Noah doesn’t interrupt me, and I continue, “I always want to be at my best for my students. Never let them take home something bad from me at the end of the day. And how the elders speak and converse has a huge impact on their impressionable minds, whether we like it or not. So, I try to be polite and well-spoken and to never slip up in front of them. I made it a habit to never curse out of school, either.”
Remembering my childhood, I chuckle, shaking my head at myself. “I had a foul mouth when I was a teenager, so it was quite anadjustment. But it was worth it.”
When Noah still doesn’t say a word, I swivel my head to look at him and see if he’s even listening.
He looks at me with something akin to admiration, or maybe I’m just fooling myself.
“It’s stupid,” I release another embarrassed chuckle, my fingers playing with a strand of my hair as I look away from him.
“Stop it.”