"No. God, no. Did you think he was pulling another gift basket stunt? Looking for a way to get into your head? Trying to start drama?'"
"It feels pretty fucking dramatic."
"Yeah, and for once, that's on me."
"Foronce?" Jamie asks. "Getting off while I held your hand wasn't exactly boring."
"That was a while ago. You still think about it?"
"Every damn day. You don't?"
"Every damn day," I say. "But you're the one who surprised me at the door then, and you don't look like you were short a hand to hold tonight."
"If Taylor didn't call you, how'd you know where I was?"
I shrug. "You're not that hard to find. But it's more crowded than last time. That was a surprise."
"I hadn't seen Lena in years, but she and Taylor's sister and a few others showed up yesterday. It's been all beer and boats. Lots of music. Less clothing—"
"More sex," I finish.
"Not for me. Not yet. But I guess tonight was a sure thing until you showed up."
"Well, you brought her up here. That's about as sure as you can be."
"I asked her if she'd like to go down to the dock while others were busy with the fire pit, but either she's not into semi-public sex, or she thinks I'm not."
"Right," I say. "Plus, you have a perfectly good futon here, and it would've been a shame not to take advantage of that."
"It made me feel like I was nineteen again, taking a girl back to my dorm room."
"You didn't go to college."
"Maybe I missed out," he spits. "You're not here for the futon, though. And you've already been quiet too long if you were here to break some sort of terrible news. So, what exactly made you blow a chunk of your savings on a trip like this?"
For a second, I’m terrified he’ll offer to pay me back, and I swallow my preemptive fury before ignoring his question and asking mine.
"Who is she to you? Lena?"
Jamie laughs humorlessly. "She's nobody. They're all nobody. But what about Logan? Did you leave him home all alone?"
"Fuck you."
"I mean, I can't stop you from camping with him for the rest of your life, right? We gave up on each other."
"No," I growl. It's quiet, but I fucking growl. "You gave up onme. At my grandmother's funeral, all I said was that I didn't know what we were waiting for, and you walked away and decided we weren'twaiting foranything."
"Where the fuck else was I supposed to go? Did you really want me to follow you to the reception? Should I have been waiting at your apartment for another slow dance before leaving you again? I don't know what else you wanted from me if being there wasn't enough."
"I didn't want to be so easy to give up on," I say. "It's always been hockey. It will alwaysbehockey. But you left that day, and it was the first time I felt like maybe it wasn'tmeat all."
Frustrated, Jamie grabs his hair with both hands, and I wish he'd get that rough with mine. "Do you even hear yourself? You're telling me it's all about hockey and maybe not about you, but I left them for you that day. I choseyou."
"That day," I echo. "And there's been nothing but distance between us since."
"So that's why you're here? To be close to me while we finish an argument we started eight months ago? Or did you want to show me you chosemeover your adorably boring life?"
I'd told Sophie I was chasing proof that someone loves me, but I've always had that and didn't need to be standing in front of Jamie to know it's still true. Whatever else happens tonight, we're going to love each other for the rest of our lives, because the pull of the ocean and the promise of the stars won't let us go. It's relief and torture all in one, and all I can think about now is how to make both feelings bigger than they already are.