The Day That Saved Us (14 page)

“Look at you tucking me in and stuff,” I tease.

“Oh. I’m a pro at tucking.” He starts at my feet, exaggeratedly shoving the covers around me, cocooning me. I chuckle. When he moves up to my waist and up around my shoulders, he comes face to face with me, and my laughter dies. He doesn’t pull away like I think he will. He tucks slower and slower, avoiding eye contact until I’m completely wrapped up.

Brodee swallows, watching my lips. His eyes drift up to meet mine. “There you go,” he says a breath away from my mouth.

I don’t say a thing. There isn’t enough air in my lungs to form words. For a second I think he’s going to kiss me—and I’m pretty sure he’s thinking hard about it—but then he pulls away and turns.

“G’night, Pete.” He sounds completely unaffected.

I still can’t respond. He shuts my bedroom door after him. The closed door stares back at me, begging me to open it and go after him. Obviously, I don’t. Because I can hardly move. And because it would be a completely irrational idea.

I CAN’T MOVE
my legs.

My thighs are on fire. My butt feels like I’ll never be able to sit down again. It’s very possible that I won’t be able to walk today. And if I do, it won’t be normally. Brodee’s going to make fun of me all day. He’ll be enough of a pain in my butt; I don’t need the additional soreness.

When my phone buzzes, I blindly feel for it on my nightstand. Holding it above my face, I see Tyler’s name.

Tyler:
I hope you’re not too sore today. ;)

Ha. If only he knew.

Me:
I can’t move, but I’ll live.

Tyler:
Are you serious? Haha. Peyton I’m sorry.

Me:
Don’t feel bad. I had so much fun. :)

Tyler:
I have to work all day or I’d come take care of you.

Well, isn’t he sweet?

Me:
Even if you didn’t work, I wouldn’t let you.

I’m seriously okay!

Tyler:
Okay good! Can’t wait to see

you tomorrow at Marcus’s.

I stare at my screen, rereading the text. There’s a knock on my bedroom door.

Me:
Ditto.

“Come in,” I holler.

Mom peers around the door. “You’re not up yet.”

I groan and settle further into bed. “I’m a little sore from horseback riding with Tyler yesterday.”

She chuckles and sits down beside me.

“Okay. Well, I came up because I need to head back to Charleston for a few days, but I’ll be back on Friday.”

“Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah. Nothing for you to worry about. Just some odds and ends that I need to tie up with the insurance company.”

“Dad stuff?”

She nods, melancholy, and runs her fingers through my hair. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“Okay.”

She kisses my forehead. “Don’t stay in bed all day. It’s beautiful out. Not too hot. If nothing else, just go lay out on the beach.”

“I will,” I say to assure her, but I could contently lie in bed all day. The more I move, the more muscles I discover that I didn’t even know existed. I’ll see what my body will allow me to do. Maybe Brodee will carry me again. I’m not that heavy. He proved that last night. It’ll be good exercise for him.

“Love you, Peyton.”

“Love you too.”

ABOUT FIFTEEN MINUTES
later, I’m contemplating texting Brodee. I could holler, but I don’t even know if he’s inside.
Stop being such a baby and get up, Peyton.

It’s not without difficulty or pain, but I manage to get out of bed and make it out of my bedroom. As I stand at the top of the stairs, I think that going down can’t be worse than coming up. It is. I consider sliding down the carpet on my butt, but I can hear Brodee strumming his guitar downstairs. If he catches me, he’ll never let me live it down. So, I hobble down one step at a time, holding onto the railing, careful not to put too much pressure on either leg.

When I round the corner of the first set of stairs, I realize Brodee has stopped playing and is at the bottom with raised eyebrows. “I don’t remember Nana coming with us this summer, but I guess I was wrong.”

I peer down at him. “You like breathing, right?”

He laughs. “Let me help you.” When he takes a step up, I stop him.

“You don’t need to baby me. If I don’t push through it, I’ll only be stiffer. It’s fine.”

“So, I take it no surfing today.” Brodee leans a shoulder against the wall and crosses his arms. It’s such a casual move, and yet so sexy.
Sexy? Peyton!

He gets the evil eye from me and laughs more.

“What are we going to do today with you like that?”

“We can still swim in the ocean. You can surf or skimboard. I’ll just watch.”

“Well, that’s no fun.”

“For today it’ll have to be.”

I still haven’t made it all the way down the stairs. Just … I count the stairs in my head…five more steps. I wince.

Brodee doesn’t stop chuckling. “I’ve never taken you for such a wimp.”

“Have
you
ever tried horseback riding?”

He doesn’t respond because he hasn’t. I know he hasn’t.

“Exactly.”

“C’mon, Pete. At least hop on my back. I’ll carry you around today. If I let you walk, we’ll never get anywhere.”

He’s probably right. “Fine.”

Brodee spends the rest of the morning helping me around the house, carrying me up and down the stairs, which really is much appreciated and kind of sweet, even if it makes me feel a little embarrassed. I know I’m not super heavy, but I think every girl feels uncomfortable when a guy knows exactly how heavy she is. Thankfully, he doesn’t make me feel like I weigh a million pounds and never once fumbles when he’s carrying me.

He helps me onto his back when we head outside and walks us down the boardwalk. It’s more for his benefit than mine, because Brodee’s too impatient to wait for my slow butt. This is also a bit more intimate because I’m only in board shorts and a bikini top, and he’s only in his board shorts. We’re skin to skin, my arms around his neck, my chin resting on his shoulder. I’m having trouble breathing. We’ve spent so much time at the beach I know every angle and curve of his body. There’s no way he hasn’t given me piggyback rides in our swimsuits before. This time is different, and I keep wondering if he feels it too.

Am I imagining things? Am I making something out of nothing? Seriously. Am I just being a girl and overanalyzing every aspect of our time together?

Our afternoon is spent in the water. Thankfully, I feel weightless in the waves. We bob and float, dive and jump over waves. The only thing that doesn’t occur is our pick-up line challenge. I can’t think of a single one, and Brodee never mentions it; I’m not sure what that means.

When he skimboards, I lay out on the beach and let the sun dry the salt water on my skin. I watch him jump and ride the waves. When he spreads his towel out and lies down beside me, we joke and laugh and talk like we haven’t all summer. Just Brodee and me. No distractions. No other friends. Nothing but the ocean and us.
This is how I wish every day was,
I think.

AS SOON AS
we walk onto Marcus’s street, we hear the bass bumping from inside the house like it has its own heartbeat. The two of us walk up the mile-long driveway. It’s a nice night, so Brodee and I decided to walk since Marcus is only a couple miles away. When we open the door, there are people everywhere. Where did all these people come from?

“Peyton!” Tyler throws his arm around my neck and pulls me to his side, planting a kiss on my temple. “Hey, gorgeous.”

“Hi.”

“I’m glad y’all made it. Hey, Brodee. Good to see you, man.” He holds his hand up for a high-five, which Brodee reciprocates.

When Tyler opens his mouth to say something more, Marcus Surgett comes barreling through the entryway and nearly knocks Tyler over. I break away so I don’t get caught up in their playful tussle.

“Dude.” Tyler laughs and shoves him back. “Way to make an entrance.”

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t miss me.” Marcus grins, and his eyes go straight to me and my legs.

I am wearing a blue top and white shorts, but now I’m wishing I wasn’t. “Seems to me that would be quite difficult,” I say dryly.

“Same goes to you.” His grin never falters. He’s got ‘flirt’ written all over him. Always has. I can’t remember a time that we have hung out where he hasn’t hit on me. His dusty blonde hair is messily arranged on his head like he’s been nervously tugging on it all night.

I find myself stepping closer to Brodee, then look to him and realize he’s gone. “Where did Brodee go?” I ask, searching. It’s a pretty open floor plan so I can see most of the rooms, but I don’t see him anywhere.

“Huh?” Tyler looks around too.

Brodee was just here. How did I miss him taking off? Why didn’t he say something?

“I don’t know. Probably making the rounds to say hi to people.”

Or doing his best to hide from Rylie.

“Let’s get you something to drink,” Tyler says, grabbing my hand, and guides me toward what I assume will be the kitchen.

I keep my eyes peeled for Brodee. When we pass through the living room I see him off to the side with Darren and Larson and some girls I don’t recognize. They’re really pretty. Tan, tall, good hair—a blonde, a brunette, and a red head.
Nice array to choose from, Brodee.
The girls are eyeing him, flirtatiously touching his arm and laughing at who knows what, but he only seems mildly interested. He’s offering his half-smile, but not the cute one. It’s the ‘I’m only smiling because I’m trying to be polite’ half-smile. A small sense of relief clings to me, and I want to ignore it. It doesn’t matter who he smiles at. At least it shouldn’t matter. But it does. It really does.

Almost like he knows my eyes are boring into the side of his head, he looks my way, and his cute half-smile replaces the other, but there’s something in Brodee’s eyes I’m not completely familiar with. Disappointment? Hurt?
Did I do something wrong?
He almost looks annoyed. I raise my eyebrow in question, but he just smiles in return, ignoring my inquiring eyes. He’s pulled back to their conversation when the brunette snatches his arm so he’ll look at her.
Attention hog.

Tyler keeps me pressed against his chest as we make our rounds, chatting with a bunch of people I’ve never seen before. Occasionally he kisses my cheek or the top of my head throughout our conversations like it’s the most normal thing. Like we’ve always been a couple. And I have to think to myself, am I still with him for the summer because I actually like him that much? Or am I with him because it’s the way it’s always been?

My eyes drift over the sea of people to see who else is here and land on Brodee again. It’s not as though I was seeking him out, but my eyes always know where to find him. His spine-tingling smile is spread across his face as he continues to talk to the attention hogs.

I take a minute to look at him while he’s not paying attention. His brown hair looks like he styled it with eggbeaters tonight, and somehow he still makes it look good. Brodee’s only wearing khakis, a white T-shirt, and flip-flops, but it’s my favorite. He doesn’t need to dress up to look good. He always looks good.

How much do I really like Tyler? Am I stringing him along now?

Tyler keeps referring to the future as ‘we’ and ‘us’. Have we officially reached the ‘us’ status, where I’m not longer a ‘me’ and he’s not longer a ‘him’? When did I agree to this?

The future sinks in more and more—cementing how different life will be in the coming months. I’m not sure how ready I am for that change. Rather than Brodee and I going to parties and hanging out with people, I’ll be with Tyler.

As I look at Tyler while he talks to Darren and Marcus, I take him in. His model status looks and perfect laugh that verges on overly practiced. His tan skin and light brown hair with sun-bleached tips. And that jawline with a faint shadow of facial hair. It’s perfection. I listen to his topics of conversation that I don’t care much about. Football and his workout regimen. Granted, they asked since he’s doubled in size from last summer, and Darren wanted to know his secret, but I realize…I don’t care. Even if it’s not a topic I know much about or have interest in, shouldn’t I care a little bit because it’s what he loves?

Why am I with him?

Tyler has to leave early—work at 7:00 in the morning.

“Dang responsibilities.” He smiles and kisses me goodbye. I don’t care as much as I should that he’s leaving.

That should be my answer, shouldn’t it?

With Brodee acting especially pouty and distant, after Tyler leaves, I go in search of him and find him sitting alone on the beach out back. I plop down beside him on the sand.

“This party is such a drag,” I say jokingly and nudge his shoulder with mine.

He lifts a small smirk in return, but stares back at the black ocean without responding. I nearly start twiddling my thumbs, trying to think of something to say to make him laugh, or figure out who peed in his cheerios.

“Are you ready to head back home?” I ask.

He pauses. I almost think he’s about to give me the silent treatment when he says, “Yeah. Let’s get out of here,” and gets to his feet.

We decide to take the beach route back. Brodee isn’t any more talkative than when we were at the party. I thought maybe it wasn’t any fun for him, but he’s not acting any different now that the party is just noise in the distance. So, maybe he is mad at me.

“You okay?” I hesitantly ask.

He shrugs and nods, but it’s so subtle I almost don’t catch it.

“You sure about that?” I press. Holding my sandals in one hand, I bump his shoulder with my other.

“I just didn’t picture our last summer panning out this way.” His eyes remain forward as we walk.

“What way do you mean?”

Brodee silently sighs. “You and I barely getting any time together as just us. We’ve been hanging out with Harper and Skylar, our family, and the other Hatteras gang. You’ve also been spending a lot of time with Tyler. In August, we’re going in different directions, and who knows when we’ll get another chance to do this again. If ever. Our lives will be so unpredictable. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Of course it does,” I scoff. How could he not know that? I’ve been trying so hard to get ready for what life will be like without him. I wanted Brodee to notice me this summer, but now, more than anything, I want to be able to see myself without him, knowing I can survive without him. And I think I can. But each time it hits me that I won’t get to see him every day, I feel like I can’t breathe. It hurts to breathe. I don’t want to think of life without him. But that’s reality. Hatteras is a dream.

“You don’t act like it,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his front pockets.

I stop on the shore, trying to figure him out, trying to understand where this is coming from. “You don’t think I think about the future and you not being in it with me? Brodee. Do you know me at all?”

He stops when he realizes I have and faces me a few feet away.

How do I put this into words that won’t make me sound like I’m crazy in love with him? Because I’m not. I can’t be.

Am I?

“I’ve been trying so hard to detach myself from you, to move forward so that I’m prepared for when we won’t see each other every day. We’ve hardly had a day apart in the last eighteen years. I think about you at Duke and me at USC, and it makes me wish that my grades were good enough, that my mom could afford a school like that just so I could go with you. I don’t want to go a day without you.”

Brodee’s mouth slowly opens, perplexed. I failed. My heart is painted across the sand between us in streaks of red, trailing from my chest. He’s attempting to figure out the underlying meaning, wondering if there is any. There is. I’m hoping I can play it off as a best friend missing a best friend, but he knows me better than anyone else. He’ll call my bluff.

“You’re my best friend, Peyton,” he utters.

“I know.” He doesn’t have to remind me or rub it in to make it clear. I know that’s all we are. “And you’re mine.”

“I just—” he motions between us. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“It’s just different colleges, Brodee. I remind myself of that all the time. We can still see each other on weekends and holidays, between semesters. We’re not going to colleges across the United States. We’re only a few hours away from each other.”

“That’s not what—” he pauses and shakes his head. He mumbles something that I can’t hear and looks out to the ocean.

“What’s not what?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop doing that. Say what you want to say,” I demand, taking a step toward him. “I’m tired of us not saying what’s on our minds. We’ve always been honest with each other, but I feel like we’ve been anything but this summer.”

“I was going to say that’s not what I meant. I thought you—”

When he doesn’t continue, I wait. I’m not going to try and interpret what he means. He needs to explain himself. I’m not a mind reader. I can only hope he means what I want him to mean. This is now a stand off. Whoever speaks next loses or wins; however you want to look at it. So, I wait and hold his gaze.

“Say it,” I finally plea.

“Peyton.” He says my name breathlessly, questioning. I want him to just know. Or forget what I said. Whatever way will make this situation less awkward. His pause extends. I hold my breath.

He takes two long strides until we’re only inches apart. He hesitates for a second. When I don’t step back, he takes my face in his hands. There’s the briefest hesitation and then he kisses me. I gasp into his mouth and he deepens the kiss, infiltrating my mouth, infiltrating me. I am a city under attack, and my defenses have failed. He wins.

I wanted him to win so badly.

Instinctively, I drop my sandals, and my arms wrap around his neck, tugging him closer, as close as he can get. And it’s still not enough.

Truth or dare comes rushing back to me, but this kiss is so different. He’s not learning my lips. He owns them, like they were never mine. I suppose they never were. My lips were made to kiss his. Be his. How could I not know that? It’s always been him.

“I’m still here,” he says against my lips. “Don’t leave me while I’m still here.”

My breathing is unsteady. My heart is racing. My mind is jumbled. I blink up at him, waiting for clarification.
What just happened?

“You just kissed me,” I whisper. My arms are still laced around his neck, holding him in place. “You weren’t dared to.”

He releases a throaty chuckle and shakes his head. “And you kissed me back.”

As if my mouth doesn’t know how to function without his anymore, I press it back against his. I no longer want to remember what it was like to not kiss Brodee Fisher.

“What took you so long?” I utter between kisses.
What took
me
so long?

“I didn’t know. I figured it out too late. I’m an idiot.” He pulls back and brushes the back of his hand against my cheek. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

I bite my lip to keep from grinning like a fool. “You’re my best friend. Losing me isn’t an option.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Probably the same reason you didn’t,” I say. “Our friendship means everything to me. I didn’t want things to be different or ruin us. But this summer, something changed. I think we both felt it the moment we kissed at Rylie’s.”