Full Share (Shore House Book 1) (5 page)

I stood up, and Rufus moved to the back of his cage and laid down again. I turned and walked out knowing if I didn’t, I’d cry. If my landlord wouldn’t evict me, I’d have brought Rufus home the first day I’d met him.

The sun was still high in the sky my entire trip down, and when I arrived at the house, half the people there were high in the sky as well. I opened the front door to a thick cloud. I waved my hand in front of my face, searching for some clean air.

“Nora.” Rob’s voice cut through the smoke. “You want a hit?”

“No. Thanks.” I kept moving through the room. Four girls congregated around a pizza box in the kitchen. I thought they were half shares, but I was still far from knowing who everyone was in the house. “Hey. How’s it going?” I asked as I slid past the only one I remembered. Her hair was cut into a pixie and her big brown eyes were unforgettable, unlike her name. I didn’t wait for an answer before I stepped down into my porch.

The room, as well as the backyard, were empty. Everyone was inside getting ready to start the night. I leaned against the windows and stared at the empty picnic table in the center of the patch of grass we called our backyard.

Jack popped up in front of the screen door, and I jumped as he pulled it out toward him.

“Sorry.” He laughed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” He wore a gray suit and navy tie. My shock at the sight of him was replaced with admiration as I raked my eyes from his shoulders, down his arms, and then all the way to the dress shoes on his feet.

“You’re so dressed up.” The words stammered from my lips. I’d become accustomed to managing the effect his bare chest had on me. This was a new challenge.

“I had to go to a funeral.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. A teacher I worked with.” Jack’s expression turned serious. “He had a heart attack while tubing with his kids.”

“Oh, man.”

“I know. The funeral was really sad. He had eight-year-old twins.” Jack’s words were weighted down. “His wife’s pregnant with twins again. Everyone at the service was a wreck.”

“Oh my God.”

Jack didn’t move. I stood still, lost in the horror of his story. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. Sorry.”

Two eight-year-olds no longer had a dad, and I barely spoke to mine. I lowered my eyes and stared at the floor. I let in a hint of guilt regarding my denial of both my parents.

Jack took off his suit jacket and hung it on the hook on the side wall. “Where were you last night?” He was unbuttoning his dress shirt. I didn’t look away. I welcomed the distraction from my mind.

“Um.”

He pushed the shirt off his shoulders and then worked to unbutton the cuffs.

“I had to work.”

“Last night?”

“No. Today. I have to work every other Saturday.”

“Oh.” Jack held out his arm to me, and I unbuttoned the cuff. “Thanks.” When he held out the other arm, I did the same. Jack moved unbearably close, as if taunting me with his body. Which was ridiculous. What were we, fourteen? It was totally working, though. This summer was going to be impossible if he kept it up. “I was afraid you were going to tell me you have a boyfriend.”

“Actually, I am seeing someone.” I wasn’t going to be the girl who had sex on the back porch of a summer rental. That sounded more like my mother’s MO.

He leaned down until we were eye level. He brushed the hair away from my face and ran his fingertips down my cheek. When I realized I was holding my breath, I exhaled. “Who?” he asked, but I didn’t know what he was talking about. “Who are you seeing?”

“Oh.” I nodded my head in a trance. “Jackie.” I wanted to close my eyes and rest my face on his chest.

“Jackie?”

I sighed, frustrated that he was still asking questions. “Jackie . . . Robinson,” I found inside my head.

Jack stopped caressing my neck. With a straight face, he asked, “As in Jackie Robinson, the first black baseball player to compete in the major league?”

I started to sweat. “Oh.” I shook my head.

“Oh.” He laughed and moved a few inches away from me, giving me room to think. “You know, you don’t have to lie.” His eyes were the color of the ocean just before the sun fully set. A deep mix of blue and gray. They almost made me believe him. “You’re not easy to get to know, Nora.”

“I know.” I turned my back to Jack while he changed the rest of his clothes. My gaze fixed on the picnic table again.

“And now I find out you’re not going to be here that much on the weekends.”

“Well, on the off weeks, I get a three-day weekend.”

“That’s nice.” He was so close behind me that I could feel his breath on my shoulders. “Does that mean you’re going to be down here on Thursday nights? Or will you be stuck at home with Jackie?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.” I wasn’t even sure I was allowed to be down here.

“Well, I’m going to think about it quite a bit. Do you want a beer?” He stepped back and walked toward the kitchen door.

I exhaled. “I’m good. I’m just going to change.”

“I can’t wait to see what you wear.”

I thought of the taupe romper in my bag. It was cut low on the sides, but I was going to wear a tank under it. “It’s pretty basic.”

“I live for simplicity.” Jack disappeared into the house, and I missed him immediately. He was beautiful to look at, but there was something even more appealing about him. It was an intangible quality that rested somewhere between making me feel safe and making me feel desired. I longed to be near him in spite of the fact that he always put me at the center of his attention. Jack didn’t let me hide.

The screen door opened again, and Tank wandered in completely naked. He was enormous, yet walked into the room like an innocent child. He was a giant teddy bear with a large, flaccid penis dangling between his legs. The air caught in my throat.

“Hey, Nora!” He hugged me. His skin was still damp, and the scent of drugstore-brand soap permeated my nostrils.

My arms hung at my sides, leaving maximum energy for my brain to process the image of him naked.

“When did you get here?”

“I . . . I just got down.”

Tank released me and stood with his hand on his waist in front of me as if one of us wasn’t naked. “Perfect timing.” He nodded. If he was waiting for me to say something, this was going to be even more awkward. I looked away. “We’re going out to see Rob’s friend’s band. I think he might do a set with them.”

“Awesome,” I forced out and turned my gaze from the wall of windows to Tank.

“All right then. I’ve got to go find some clothes. Is that what you’re wearing?” He pointed to the romper laying out on my bed.

“Yes.”

“That’s hot.”

“You think?” It only felt hot if you were into the army surplus look.

“Oh, yeah. It’s gonna be great with your green eyes.”

I blushed at Tank’s mention of my eye color.

“Do you have a necklace to wear with it?” The conversation was taking a strange turn, which was notable since Tank had no clothes on.
Maybe Tank’s gay
.

I searched the pockets of my weekend bag and found a blue arrowhead necklace that hung low on my chest. I laid it over the romper.

“Perfect.” Tank moved the necklace around, and his naked arm touched mine in the process.

Tank left me alone, and I waited in line for the bathroom to change into my romper and officially begin my second weekend at the beach.

The bars were less crowded than the weekend before, which only made it easier to get the bartender’s attention. The outfit had been a good choice because based on the amount we drank, someone in our house was being deployed the next day, or going to prison, or marrying an arranged suitor. Not one of us spoke a word of reason as shots were downed and intricate dance moves were performed. At least they seemed intricate in my head. The last thing I remembered was hating my bed for being so close to the sand-covered floor.

I didn’t open my eyes when morning came. I wasn’t sure I could. My mouth was dry, unbearably so. I reached up to the sill next to my bed and grabbed the bottle of water I’d left there. I unscrewed the cap and sat up to down it. The warm water sliding across my throat was like swallowing fire. Shots of Fireball and lemon drops cut through the pain.

This is the morning I deserve.

Jack stirred on his mattress across the porch. A slender leg slipped out from under his sheet. I visually traced it until the bedding hid the attached body and picked the image back up at a loose tank top twisted around Mila’s breasts. She clung to the edge of the mattress. It appeared she’d slept with Jack, and they’d gotten into a fight, sending her to the farthest point away from him. Jack rolled again and encircled Mila with his arm. She moved closer to him and melted into an obviously familiar position.

My cheeks flushed. How did I not see they were together before now, and why didn’t they just share a room in the first place?

I stared at Jack’s arm around Mila. The sight made me feel worse. My lip curled at the romantic picture across the floor from me, and I lowered my gaze to avoid it. It was ridiculous. I couldn’t be jealous of Jack. He barely knew my name. He touched my hair. Once.
This
I had to stop.

I managed to stand. Once steady, I made my way to the bathroom with my toothbrush. The inside of my mouth needed some remediation. Because if the inside of your mouth hurt, you hurt. My mother had always said, “Take care of your eyes, your mouth, and your vagina. The rest will work itself out.” She’d also said yes to my French teacher when he’d asked her to have sex with him, so whatever.

The house was asleep. The only sound was someone snoring from the second floor. A half share probably, because the noise was foreign. I knew so little of all these people, but I knew how they sounded when they slept and what type of beer they drank. I knew Stone was a breath away from a fight, and I thought there was one raging inside him at all times. Tank could light the world up like a fireworks display, and Mila made people stop and stare. Heather was the physical embodiment of anger. Jack was her opposite in every way. He was calm and strong, and Rob, my lovely Rob, could capture my attention by reading the Sunrise Restaurant’s breakfast menu.

“Nora,” Tank whispered as I stepped out of the bathroom.

“What are you doing up?”

“What are you doing up?” He mocked me and made me laugh.

“Shh.” The pounding in my head increased.

“Let’s go swimming.”

I shook my head, still holding it. “No. I’m not well.”

“You’ll be fine. I promise.”

I needed drugs, preferably some painkillers.

“I can’t sleep,” Tank pleaded.

He reminded me Mila was in Jack’s bed. And I couldn’t sleep either. “Okay. Give me a minute. I’ll change, but I’m not swimming. My head is killing me.”

“Meet you outside.”

I nodded and slipped onto the back porch. I changed into my bathing suit, watching for movement from Jack the whole time. He was passed out. I was taking a chance he’d stay that way. I found my bottle of Advil in my bag, wincing as it played like a maraca as I tried to get just three pills out of it. One, four, fifteen. Finally, I managed to separate three from the rest and swallowed them with the dredges of water left in my bottle.

I stood up, and Jack opened his eyes. I felt like I should say something, but I didn’t know what, or even why I felt that way. There was some strain in our non-existent relationship that I would have denied except for the way he was staring at me.

Whenever Heather had brought someone home in college, I just wanted the guy to leave. If they’d come home with her, I assumed they were bad news. But I liked Jack and I liked Mila. Still, their tangled bodies left me feeling alone.

Jack’s expression stayed the same. He didn’t smile. He didn’t wink or make some funny face. He seemed disappointed in me for seeing them. I was disappointed in myself for not having a clue they were together. I left to meet Tank in the front yard.

SHE WAS JUST LONELY

O
ne by one, they dragged themselves to the beach. Stone carried a chair and a bottle of water. He forgot a towel. Rob was whistling, completely unaffected by his hangover, and Blaire was a mere inch from him at all times, as if she needed to share the air he breathed to exist. Mila came next. She carried a large bag and a chair. And finally, Jack arrived. His chair was rusted at the joint and creaked when he opened it and sat down. He pulled his hat low and opened the memoir on Truman he’d started reading the weekend before.