Tighter (Page 24)
“Yale. That’s impressive.”
“I’m selling too hard.” He made a face. “I know you for ten minutes, and I go and college-drop. Maybe I still have to say it out loud to believe it.”
“Hey, Yale’s a huge deal. And you’re rocking a scholarship.”
“You think I’m That Guy Who Brags.”
“Not at all.”
“It’s okay; I probably am bragging. On that, maybe I don’t own the perfect pair of sunglasses, but I do have a couple of incredible pairs of driving goggles.”
“Driving—what?” I laughed.
“You’ll see.” He tapped two fingers to my nose, an offhand gesture that dizzied and thrilled me. “See, now I’m attempting to be fascinating yet cryptic. Instead of braggartly. Wait—is that a word?”
By now we were both laughing. “Oh, definitely braggartly is a word. I use it all the time.”
“This is new for me.”
“What is?”
“Wanting to impress someone.”
“I’m flattered.” I really was. “But why me?”
“I don’t know. I like that you’re an exotic stranger instead of someone who’s shown up on this island like clockwork every single summer for the past fifteen years. I like how you bite your bottom lip when you listen. Mostly I liked watching you give Aidan McNabb the stone-cold shaft. He’s the crown prince of Bly, and he’s not used to the swift kick of rejection.”
“He’s met his match. I’m not into that guy, and I’m not afraid to kick.”
That was all he needed. Without another word, Sebastian leaned forward and kissed me.
My last kiss had been courtesy of Sean Ryan—only once, in the furtive winter dark, in his icy Mini Cooper. Sebastian’s mouth was different. Careful, the way he cupped his hands against either side of my face as if I were something divine and limited being offered to him. But confident, the way he shifted himself so that my hands found his shoulders, and then wrapped around them, as I sensed his entire mind and body focused on me and nothing else.
But the surprise of it, plus the scramble of the sleeping pill in my brain, also conspired in the worst way possible as my nervous laughter burbled from my throat and ulped into the air.
“What’s funny?” As he drew away, the question held his uncertain smile.
Now I couldn’t stop giggling. “Nothing. I’m drunk … maybe.”
“Nah, you’re not drunk. You had three sips of rum punch, and I happen to know that the bartender, Harry, who’s also my cousin, is watering the cocktails to criminal levels.”
I was silent.
“Not sure why I kissed you,” Sebastian admitted into the pause. “I was pulling for leading man, but I might have come off as an unintentionally comic sidekick.”
“No, I liked it. Really. It was bold.” But he still looked unsure.
I wanted to say the perfect thing so Sebastian would know how much I’d wanted him to kiss me, but without seeming too extreme about it. “It’s just that I’m not myself tonight,” I said thickly. Stupidly. My brain was going into Tilt-A-Whirl. I was losing ground, fast, on this situation.
“Copy that,” he answered softly.
“In fact, to be honest, I’m starting to feel awful.”
He stood. “Got it.” Offered a hand to help me up. “Let me take you back to Skylark.”
FIFTEEN
Sebastian drove a motorcycle. It looked like nothing I’d seen before.
“A Triumph Bonneville T120,” he explained. “Otherwise known as Bonnie. She’s about fifty years old.”
“Sweet.” It was a pretty bike, slender and compact. “So is this where your driving goggles come in?”
“You’re quick, detective.” He opened the seat and pulled them out, along with a couple of vintage leather helmets. He then carefully fit goggles and helmet onto my head, adjusting the eye and chin straps.
“I feel like Amelia Earhart. Or maybe Snoopy.” I yawned. “Snoopy, Dopey, and Sleepy.”
He peered at me. “Hold on tight, and I’ll get you home slow and safe.”
“Yessir.”
We left the club in a roar. The open breeze kind of woke me up and made me feel better. I tied my arms around Sebastian’s waist and leaned forward to press against his back. My jumbled mind hummed nursery rhymes, and my hands held a locked grip at his waist; I was terrified that my body would spontaneously go limp as the pill continued to sneak its way through my system.
We rounded the bend, off Bush Road, and then up the drive, the tires grinding sand as Sebastian downshifted. Midway, the bike sputtered, and I thought we’d lost traction. Quickly, Sebastian rose up and pushed his weight over the handlebars. The engine growled and the wheels spun and coughed like a tired beast, and then we shot up the hill in a jet of speed and noise that I figured would wake up everyone.
But the house stayed dark. Sebastian cut the engine and we got off. I pulled free of my heavy helmet and goggles. My head felt mushy as an overripe melon. I wished I could slice it open and let the sleeping pill ooze out like syrup. And I didn’t want to go inside the house.
“This has been such a strange experience,” I blurted.
“You mean Bonnie? She looks delicate, but she’s fairly durable. But I gotta admit, there’ve been past complaints about her parting gift of helmet hair.”
“No, I meant …” Sebastian was listening intently. I had a feeling he knew what I was going to say anyway, so I kept going. “I meant, being here. At Skylark. It’s like there’s this built-in connection, this way that people have forged me with Jessie Feathering. You must have noticed the way kids look at me but really see her. And considering what happened to her, it’s all kind of a lot for me to handle.”
“Yeah, sure. I hear that.” Sebastian walked me up the porch and dropped into the wicker love seat, pulling me down next to him, and when I swung my legs over so that they bridged his lap, it seemed effortless and natural, a perfect moonlight moment, despite the fact that I was barely awake enough to register it. “And I gotta confess, I listened to the gossip. The Jessie look-alike at Skylark for the summer,” he said. “Then when I saw you … yeah, I had that moment, too. Like everyone else.” He drew a breath. “And there’s a void here, with them gone. No doubt of that. There’s times it feels like yesterday when I biked to the edge of the bluff to watch the chopper and the rescue boats. Just praying it was all some incredibly bad joke.”