Where Sea Meets Sky

The thought fills me with unwarranted trepidation, and I’m not sure if I’m more scared of myself or of Josh.

We’re halfway up the hill, the rugged brown cliffs rising from the road on one side, gently sloping into green fields and trees on the other, when Josh says, “So, the ‘us’ that happened in Vancouver . . . is that ever going to happen again?”

The question stuns me. It’s so blunt. I stop walking, glued to the road, a tiny plume of dust rising up around me. I can only stare at him blankly.

He throws his hands up in the air. “Oh, come on Gemma, it’s a valid question.”

My heart is starting to hammer against my rib cage and my breathing deepens. But instead of answering honestly, I answer with spite. “I don’t know. Is the ‘us’ that was you and Amber in the movie theater ever going to happen again?”

Josh jerks his head back, blindsided. He blinks, his mouth opening and closing, searching for words, but he has none that can help him right now.

“Amber told me,” I quickly fill in, knowing what he’s trying to ask. “Said that Nick caught the two of you.”

Josh lowers his head until all I can see is his jet-black crown. When he looks back up, he’s running his hand down his face, stretching his features, his eyes turned to the sky. “Gemma,” he manages to whisper, but he can’t go on.

“It’s fine,” I lie, “but I just find it funny that you have the nerve to bring up the way that we were once when you were with her so recently.”

He pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head. “That is not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair,” I say plainly and start walking past him.

“No,” he growls and grabs my forearm, pulling me to a stop. “You can’t walk away after dropping this.”

“You’re the one who made out with and groped Amber!” I cried out.

“You’re the one who was continuously fucking her boyfriend, loud as hell,” he retorts and his grip tightens. “And don’t tell me he wasn’t your boyfriend. Whatever he was, that asshole was in you repeatedly. Do you think that was easy for me to watch? To hear? To be around?”

“Well you certainly had a willing distraction.”

“Amber,” he seethes, his eyes blazing, “came on to me. And I was nice to her about it. And yeah I got hard ’cause I got a fucking dick and she’s a nice, pretty girl. But she’s not you and I made that very clear to her. No one is you but you, and you don’t even seem to know it, let alone believe it matters.”

“Because it can’t matter.”

He grabs my other arm and pulls me to him, my chest almost pressed against his. “It can matter now. Nick is gone. What’s stopping you?”

I try to pull away but his grip is strong, his muscles flexing to keep me in place. “I think I just told you.”

“Amber,” he says breathlessly. “Is that it? Is that all? Is that the only reason I’m not deep inside you right now?” His gaze is suspicious, roaming all over my face, searching my features for the truth. If he finds it I wish he would tell me, tell me my truth so I can know for myself.

He watches me and I don’t think he’s found what he’s looking for. His frown deepens. “This is ridiculous.”

“What?”

“I like you, Gemma,” he says. His tone is hard and honest. There is something so brave about this moment that I can barely take in what he’s saying. “I like you a lot. I’ve liked you a lot since we first fucked and you got in that cab and I thought I would never see you again. You invaded my dreams. You invaded my art.” I raise a brow at that, struck by this revelation. “You invaded my life. I started to think that perhaps you were never real, just something I made up, or a ghost you can’t hold on to. Most guys would let it go but I couldn’t. I came here hoping I would have the balls to find you, and with some help I did.”

He pulls me closer to him so I can feel the heat of his skin between us. His voice lowers and his eyes soften, gazing down at me with a hint of carnality. “I found you. And after everything, I’m still here because of you. I could go on a backpackers bus, I could hunker down in a hostel somewhere and be quite content. But I’d never be so happy alone out there as I am by your side, even when we’re dealing with the most bogus shit like psycho meathead ex-boyfriends and hooligan parrots and running out of gas on what’s probably the set of Rob Zombie’s next horror film, I’m still not going anywhere. I’m here right now because of you, I’m here in this country because of you, and I’ve been the horniest motherfucker for the last few weeks all because of you. Because of you.”

I look away from his face, trying to ignore the sincerity in his voice, and stare straight ahead at his chest, absently focusing on the designs of his black T-shirt. He means his words and they’re trying to get under my skin, loosen my defenses, melt what little armor I have. I want to believe them so badly but I know if I do I’ll have a hard time holding on to the person I need to be. Josh has this uncanny ability to lift my fingers, one by one, from my tight grip on myself, but I’m not letting go yet.

I swallow, feeling shakiness in my limbs. He traces my jaw with his thumb. I don’t want to think anymore. I need to distract, deflect.

“Horny?” I repeat. I’m trying to be funny, to make light of everything, but a lustiness comes through my voice, surprising even me. I slowly raise my chin to look up at him, to see if he noticed. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">