He dragged a hand through his hair and shifted his weight. “I was going to ask you to stay. To see where this goes.”
He wasn’t trying to get rid of you.
I forced my arms back to my sides. “I need to get out of here for a little while. To clear my head.”
“You can’t leave the bayou.” He quickly added, “It’s not safe. Unless I come with you?”
“Is that a question?”
“You didn’t want to be alone with me.”
I walked to the motorcycle parked in the gravel beyond the house. “To the beach by Rocky’s Docks. I just need a few minutes.”
I climbed onto the motorcycle behind him. It was easier in sweatpants than a skirt, and I was glad I had something comfortable to wear.
Until I wrapped my arms around his waist and realized how much of him I could feel through the thin, soft fabric.
I leaned back as much as I could when Isaac revved the engine. In a few short minutes we were gliding onto a neighborhood road, the asphalt smooth compared to the bumpy ride through the bayou.
Isaac pulled off at the beach. The sand was narrow, the tide high, but it suited my needs just fine.
I slid off before he killed the engine, walking barefoot into the sand. My feet sank in with a sigh, cool grains settling between my toes.
The wind whipped at my hair. Water droplets kissed my skin. I could almost taste the salt on my tongue.
I slanted my head back, staring up at the stars as if they had the answers for me.
I thought I knew what I was doing. I thought I knew what came next.
I didn’t.
Everything was a jumbled mess. The world around me didn’t make sense. The world inside me wasn’t any clearer.
Isaac’s gaze pressed against my shoulders.
I rolled them, trying to relieve the pressure.
It didn’t help.
I opened my mouth and screamed.
“What the fuck?” I shouted into the wind. “What the fuck!”
I yelled until there was no more air in my lungs. Then I sucked in a breath, only to let it out in another stream of profanities.
What the fuck, Universe?
Why me?
Why now?
When I was done, the emptiness inside me felt good. Like there was room for my heart to beat again.
A whisper tickled at the back of my neck. “Feel better?”
I didn’t turn around. “I always make the wrong choice.”
“Me too.”