Full Share (Shore House Book 1) (22 page)

Jack turned around and walked out of the room, leaving me cold.

Rob and I didn’t say another word.

The bar was darker. The music was louder. The harshness of the night continued to surround me wherever I went. It was the weed. I was high in a way I’d never been before, and it made me angry. I missed my non-high self. The Nora who knew what was going on. What was real, and who was fake. I didn’t want to smoke that kind of pot ever again.

I tried to huddle near Rob, but instead of shelter he was an attraction to people. Strangers. He’d speak to anyone who would dote on him. Glasses crashed to the ground behind me, followed by bartenders cursing as they stared at the pile of broken glass at their feet. A bar back crawled under the bar and returned with a broom and dustpan, while the bartenders continued to take orders to the mob awaiting their light beers and vodka drinks. A round of shots was poured in front of me. I counted the nine tiny glasses lined up and watched the liquid drip out of the spout in slow motion. I was too high to be in here.

I walked onto the front porch, seeking some air and some grounding from the sensations of the night. Tank, hovering above the rest of the crowd, caught my eye. I took one step toward him and then froze in the hatred of his stare. He was glaring at me. Stone held an arm across his chest to hold him back . . . from me.

The absolute abhorrence in his eyes sent me home. I walked out of the bar and didn’t look back until I opened the front door of our house. I’d led him on. This was why he hated me. He saw everything. The light, the sun, the sounds, how could he not have read my intentions correctly? We’d never kissed, never even crashed in the same bed, but Tank hated me, and I knew it was my fault. He was incapable of that horrid depth of emotion without being provoked, and yet I couldn’t shake the deep understanding that he was
only
my friend and that he knew it, too.

I stayed silent in my bed, staring at the crumbling and stained ceiling of the porch, until I heard the first of my housemates return.

“What happened to her?” Mila asked in the kitchen. I could barely make out the words over the pounding of the box fan, but I knew she was talking about me.

“Rob gave her God knows what, and Tank scared her.” It was Jack.

“He scared me, too.”

“He’s scared me a couple of times lately. He just gets so fucking angry, and I never understand at what.”

The light turned off, and silence followed it. The party had mercifully moved from the kitchen to another part of the house, or perhaps another house all together. I stayed still, terrified that if I moved, my night would continue to propel me forward, and the unknown was worse than what it was right now.

Eventually, there was a banging on the house. Not on the door, on the actual side of the house. It might have been a fist hitting the siding.

“Who the fuck cares? Forget about her,” Stone yelled. I wanted to disappear. “You’ve got to pull yourself out of this. She’s no big deal.” There was another bang on the side of the house. This one shook the wall of the porch next to my face. It might have been a foot hitting it. “You’re so fucking dark.”

“Shut up!” Tank yelled, and then there was silence. I leaned up in my bed to hear better, but there was nothing. I laid back down and was swallowed by everything I couldn’t understand.

Jack walked into our room and startled me, but I didn’t move. My gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, searching for answers to how I’d hurt Tank. I’d almost fully convinced myself it wasn’t me. It was some other girl who was no big deal. I was being arrogant, thinking I’d had a thing to do with his anger. I meant nothing to him. We’d only known each other well in a prior life. My breath caught as a sob lodged in my throat. The abhorrence in Tank’s eyes was seared into my memory.

Jack lifted my covers and climbed in bed next to me. I turned to him as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders. I buried my face in his chest and tears fell from my eyes.

“Don’t take it personally,” he said, confirming I was the target of Tank’s rage.

“Hatred is a personal thing.”

Jack’s hand tangled in my hair, moving it away from my face. He brushed it to my back and away from my eyes. He was deliciously warm in the wake of Tank’s coldness. “Tank can be unfathomably light. But lately, that light has come with some darkness. I doubt it has anything to do with you.”

He hated me. I didn’t imagine that.

I let myself forget it for a moment and fell asleep with Jack. I had nightmares I was drowning and no one came to save me. They just stared at me from the beach as I sank under water and was pulled out to sea.

When I woke up, my bed and our room were empty. I stayed still and listened for signs of life. The house was silent. A brushing sound repeated again and again. It was coming from the backyard, but I couldn’t place it in my mind.

I sat up too quickly and felt dizzy. I leaned back on stiff arms before venturing farther into the daylight. The brushing sound continued. My gaze followed it to the backyard. Tank’s leg and shoulder were sticking out of the shed.

As if he could feel me scrutinizing him, he stopped what he was doing and leaned out the door. The storm inside him was missing from the night before. It’d been replaced by someone searching through the damage for his lost self.

He stared lifelessly at the house. The anger was gone. He was wounded. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to talk to him or not. I wasn’t sure what to even say. I didn’t understand most of what had happened last night, but none of my interactions with Tank made sense.

I lumbered to the bathroom and brushed my teeth. I splashed my face with water and downed drinks from my cupped hands. I actually felt pretty good, but I hadn’t drunk much. I couldn’t drink the night before. Thanks to Rob and his “seriously great shit.”

I couldn’t tell who was at breakfast and who was still asleep. Except for the half shares crashed on the couches still wearing their clothes from the night before. I tiptoed by them and back out to my porch. Tank had returned to whatever he was doing, and I missed him.

I left the house and approached the shed. My steps were small. My mind was foggy, but I tried to take in any signs of displeasure with my coming presence. I stopped for a moment, and Tank turned to me. He smiled. He was innocent and childlike. Just the way I loved him.

“Hey,” I said as I approached his work bench. He had a large piece of furniture he was sanding. It was a worn black color except the spots he’d already lightened. The ground was covered with sand dust, and so was the middle of Tank. By the looks of the carnage, he’d been working for hours. Based on the top of the dresser, he’d only sanded a single spot. Over and over again. His eyes were dark. The circles around them deepened the darkness still lingering from last night. I feared he was deranged.

“Good morning.” His words sounded like more of a question than a greeting.

“If I did something wrong last night, I’m sorry.”

Tank kept sanding. My words flew by him. He leaned down and peered across the surface of the wood. “I found this dresser on the curb the next town over from my house. I’m going to restore it.”

I looked at the dresser, but I didn’t really see it. “That’s great,” I said and took a step back from Tank. We’d never spent a moment together before. We were no more than two human beings on the same planet. Our closeness was gone. I took a deep breath and smiled before turning to walk away.

“Nora?”

I turned back to my friend. “Yes, Tank?”

“Have you ever seen the Perseid Meteor Shower?” I could only stare at him. “It happens every year, and you can sometimes see fifty falling stars per hour.” Tank’s words rushed from his mouth like he was doing a radio spot and only had a few seconds to get every word in.

I slowed my response on purpose. “No. I haven’t.”

“It’s next weekend. Let’s plan on taking the kayak out Sunday night to watch it.”

“Really?” My instinct was to hug him, but I was scarred from the night before. I didn’t trust his kindness the way I used to. I left my confusion on full display for Tank to deal with.

“Yeah.” He stopped sanding and faced me. “I want you to see it.”

“Have you seen it before?”

“Every night inside my head, but you’ll need to see it in the sky, and I want to be with you when you do.”

He was breathing heavy. He was nervous about my reaction. Last night wasn’t all in my mind. “I’d love that, Tank.”

I CAN’T WAIT UNTIL WE SEE EACH OTHER AGAIN

I
needed a break from the house. The weekend before with Tank had shaken me, or at least my confidence in the beach being an enjoyable distraction. Maybe just a distraction. I didn’t know. What I did know was that I was in no hurry to get down there. Tank texted me to make sure I was coming for the meteor shower. His text was sent just after four in the morning Wednesday night. He ended it with,
I can’t wait until we see each other again.
When I read it Thursday morning, I knew he couldn’t sleep.

I stayed in Delaware Thursday night. I didn’t get out of work until seven, and the thought of rushing anywhere exhausted me. After the endless day of fielding complaints, I wanted to lie on my bed in a dark room and forget the world around me. I could’ve had it worse. I could work with molested children or abused animals and be forced to feel something every single day of my life until my emotions dried up and I was swept away with them. At least the unending lack of satisfaction from everyone I came in contact with was merely mind-numbing and didn’t impact my soul. It was only a nuisance.

I expected to hear from Tank several more times until I got to the shore. Usually his texts that began in the middle of the night were followed by several more that deteriorated in logic. Many times I assumed they were lyrics to a song I didn’t know. I scrolled back through my texts from him. They ranged from sweet to obscure, to downright unintelligible. His depth was overwhelming to the shallowness I’d embraced in my life.

I drove to see my best friend. Our visits had switched from sad to friendly, and I was proud of him.

“I’m not going to lie,” Janine said when I walked into the shelter. “I feared he was a total loss when they brought him in here.”

“Me, too,” I said and kept pace with her to his cage.

Rufus had heard my voice and was waiting for me when I reached him.

“Guess what I have?”

Rufus’s tail wagged against the side of his cage.

“
Scooby Doo and the Creepy Chef
.”

He sat right next to me and listened to every word of the book and looked at every picture. When I was done, I gave him a treat and I told him I loved him.

I couldn’t stop smiling my whole way to the beach. Rufus was going to do it. He was going to get adopted. I knew it.

The driveway to the beach house was empty except for Jack’s motorcycle. It always surprised me the others didn’t lounge here all week. They had no responsibilities of a nine-to-five nature, but they still adhered to the idea of only weekending at the beach because their weekly lives were demanding. What with yoga and music and reading and all. It was almost lunch time. Jack must’ve been on a job in Dewey or Rehoboth. Something close he could come home midday from.

The silent house didn’t sound like a lunch was being eaten. I stepped onto the back porch, and the heat hit me first. Jack was asleep in my bed without the fan on.

I dropped my bag on the mattress next to him. He stirred and rolled over, facing me with a pleasant expression on his face.

“What are you doing in my bed?” I wasn’t angry. I wasn’t even surprised. The boundaries of my life had disappeared on this short block in this one-mile-long beach town.

“I was hoping you’d come down and climb in with me.”

I tilted my head and pondered Jack. He was enormous. My boyfriend in high school had been a few inches taller than me, but we’d weighed about the same. Jack’s arm might have weighed more than me, and when he spooned me and put one leg over my thighs, it felt like a tree was lying across my body. He was a man.

“Why are you even here? Don’t you have to work?” My eyes rested on the arm he’d just put up behind his head. Even through my multi-year silent obsession with Rob, it was never about his body. Rob had that lanky, I-might-be-a-coke-addict look. He was always
maybe
dirty, but probably not, because his shoes cost more than most people’s car payment. Every ounce of Jack was strong, and my admiration of his body threw me a little.

“No power. That’s why I’m cooking myself out here. It’s out on the whole island.”

“Really?” I surveyed the room, but nothing was ever plugged in to note the absence of power except the shell lights, and we only turned them on at night.

“Really. How come you didn’t come down last night?” Jack moved over until the back of his body rested against the wall.

I sat next to him, and he pulled me down to lie beside him. “I was tired. My job can be draining.” He slid me closer to him. My back was resting on his chest. “And sometimes this house can be draining.”

“Not on Thursday nights.”

I pulled Jack’s arm over my shoulders and closer to me. “No. Not on Thursdays.”