A Week at the Beach (7 page)
“No, it wasn’t jealousy. I was just stating a fact.”
He laughed, “If you say so.”
I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t look at him.
After a minute, he said quietly, “I did try to find you. I went upstairs but you were in the shower. When I went back downstairs, I got wrapped up in the game. I looked for you everywhere. I just didn’t think to look under the house.”
I smiled and shrugged, “Next time you’ll know better.”
He chuckled then asked, “What do you have planned for the day?”
“Nothing, unless Chrissy wants to hang out, I guess.”
“I never saw her come home last night.”
I shrugged, “Oh, well then I guess I’m free to do what I want today.”
Nick stopped playing and set the guitar down on the deck. “Would you like to hang out with me today?”
“That depends,” I turned to him with a smile. “If you’re planning on surfing some more then I’m afraid I’ll have to say no.”
He smiled back at me, “That’s probably for the best.”
I leaned back against the swing but turned my head so that I could see him, “What did you have in mind?”
This time he flashed a mischievous smile at me, “Don’t you trust me?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, “The last time you said that to me, I ended up swallowing half of the Atlantic.”
He grinned but I could tell he was suppressing a laugh at the memory of my sad attempt at surfing yesterday.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Meet me down by the storage shed in thirty minutes and you’ll find out.”
He didn’t give me a chance to ask any more questions. He scooped up his guitar and headed towards the French doors.
“What should I wear?” I called after him before he could reach the inside of the house.
“Shorts and a t-shirt will do,” he shouted back and kept walking.
“Don’t you remember the story I told you yesterday about the summer I was ten.”
“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you haven’t been on a bike since you were ten?” Nick had pulled two big bikes out of the shed and was trying to coax me onto one.
“After I scratched and dented my dad’s car, he pretty much forbid me from ever riding a bike again.” I admitted freely to him.
“Well, he’s not here and I promise I won’t tell him.” Nick put his hand over his heart as he promised. “Besides, I have an insurance policy in place.” He grinned and ran back into the shed. When he came out, he was holding a bright pink bike helmet. He held it out for me and I took it with a quick glare in his direction. “It’s more about keeping you safe than anything else. I can’t promise you won’t have an accident, but I am confident you can’t put a dent in your father’s car, run over your little sister’s toes, or massacre Mrs. O’Grady’s petunias.”
The fact that he’d remembered all the details from my clumsy confession impressed me. If I’d had any doubt that I could trust him, it was now gone. I put the helmet on my head and fiddled with the straps. He walked closer, took the straps from me, and began adjusting it to fit me. His face was just inches from mine and I could see the edges of a smile forming on his lips. I couldn’t help but notice that he smelled fantastic, a mixture of deodorant and sunblock that was steadily becoming irresistible.
When he’d finished with the straps, and the helmet was securely fastened on my head, he looked right at me and smiled.
“Aren’t you going to wear a helmet?” I asked as I stared back at him.
He smiled and shook his head.
I put my hand on my hips, “I’m pretty sure it’s the law.”
He leaned forward, getting as close to my face as the bright pink helmet would allow, and whispered, “I’m a rebel.”
A shudder of excitement and electricity traveled down my spine causing me to shiver. A soft sigh escaped my lips at the same time. He leaned away with a grin and I tried to cover up the sigh with a cough. It wasn’t very convincing. In fact, it almost sounded like he was laughing as he hopped onto his bike.
Pulling myself together, I grabbed hold of the handlebars of my bike and said, “Well, just so you know, when you crash and you’re lying on the ground with a gaping head wound, I will say I told you so as I stand over your mangled body.”
He smiled at me and replied, “I would expect nothing less.”
With my usual amount of grace, I finally managed to get myself situated on the bike and with a wobbly start rode the bike out from under the house. Nick was kind enough not to laugh at me as I struggled to coordinate my feet and balance myself on the bike. After a few minutes, I seemed to be getting the hang of it and we rode away from the house.
“Where are we going exactly?” I asked and almost crashed into a mailbox. Clearly, I wasn’t ready to ride and talk.
Nick shook his head at the sight of me, but answered, “I just thought we could ride around and see what’s in the area. It’s not supposed to be as hot today as it was yesterday.”
I nodded my head slightly, not wanting to knock myself off balance again. My hands kept a firm grip on the handlebars and my eyes stayed glued to the road ahead of me. I was going to try my best not to have any incidents on the bike, at least not any major incidents.
Thankfully, the breeze was blowing Nick’s scent away from me. I didn’t need that distraction while I was trying to be careful.
“You’re not doing so badly!” Nick rode up beside me, causing my path to wobble just a little.
“I’m concentrating very hard on staying balanced and straight.” I responded quickly. My wheels didn’t stray from their trajectory and I silently congratulated myself for successfully talking and riding.
“Do you think you’re up for some dirt biking? I think I saw a course somewhere around here on our way to the house the other day.” Nick’s voice had a hint of mischief in it when he asked.
I risked a glance at his face, and sure enough, he was grinning from ear to ear.
“If that’s what you had in mind for today, then I’ll just turn around and go back to the house. Dirt bike riding seems like something I should stay far away from.”
He laughed and took his hands off the handlebars. “I’m just joking with you Cami.”
“Good.”
“I was curious about something.” He paused and waited for me to nod him on. “Is Cami short for something?”
“Camille.”
“And, what’s your last name?”
“Harris.”
“Camille Grace Harris,” he said my name slowly, as if he was letting it sink in.
When he said my name, a rush of excitement ran through me. I’d heard my name millions of times and never had it caused such a reaction. Somehow, hearing him say it made it more beautiful, more desirable, and much more significant.
“Does anyone call you Camille?”
Another, smaller, rush shot through me.
“My grandmother used to, and my dad does when I’m in trouble.”
He smiled, “How often does that happen?”
“Not too often, lately. I’m the oldest, so they have their hands full with two college kids right now. They mostly just ask me the same four questions every time I talk to them.” I smiled, thinking about how true that statement was.
“What are the four questions?”
“Have you heard from your sisters lately? How’s work? Who are you dating? When are you going to get married and have babies?” I looked over at him and rolled my eyes at the last question. “That last one always comes from my mom, and it’s usually shouted from the living room as my dad talks to me from the kitchen. I basically have the same conversation with them every week.”
Nick smiled and I shook my head in frustration.
Every week, I called home and those four questions, in one form or another, were the basic outline of our entire conversation. Only occasionally would I be treated to an update on an elderly family member, or the neighborhood gossip, but that was only if it was really juicy. The monotony of it never bothered me. I’d just grown used to it. Although, since my relationship with Jack had ended eight months ago, the questions about when I was going to get married had started to grate on my nerves.
“What are you thinking about right now?” Nick pulled me out of my thoughts.
“Oh,” I blushed, realizing that I had been thinking about my ex.
“You kind of spaced out for a few seconds there.” Nick smiled warmly, “I was just wondering what you were thinking about.”
“Honestly,” I scrunched my nose in embarrassment at being caught, “I was thinking about my ex.”
“Oh,” Nick drew out the word and raised his eyebrows as he did.
“Not like that.” I didn’t want him to think I was pining over the guy. “I was just thinking about how since we broke up eight months ago, I hate having to answer the last two questions from my parents.”
“The dating and marriage ones?”
I nodded.
“How long were you together?”
“Almost six years.”
“Wow!”
“We met at Columbia our senior year and we moved in together after graduation.”
“So you lived together?”
“Until eight months ago, yes,” I sighed.
I really missed the old apartment. It wasn’t huge, but at least I wasn’t confined to one room. The place I rented now wasn’t awful. It was cheap. It was close to work, and the people in the house were all friendly. It’s just that, I didn’t actually have any space of my own. My bedroom was the space where I felt the most comfortable, and even there it wasn’t the same as it had been in the apartment with Jack.
“Why did you break up?” Nick asked, but then quickly added, “If you don’t mind me asking.”
I took a deep breath. “We grew apart, I guess. When we first got together, we were so young and we didn’t really have a plan for where things were going. But after a while, I started to want more than just a boyfriend and roommate. I was ready for marriage and kids, and I thought he was too.”
“He wasn’t ready?”
“No. In fact, he didn’t want it at all.”
“With you or with anyone?” Nick asked timidly, obviously trying not to offend me.
“Apparently not with anyone,” I clarified. “His parents went through a nasty divorce when he was twelve, so he was afraid of putting his own kid through that.”
Nick nodded silently for a few seconds then added, “Our parents’ relationships can really screw things up for us as we get older.”