Read Online Relentless (Shattered Hearts) by Cassia Leo - Free Book Online
Authors: Cassia Leo
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that he’s still holding my hand and just as this thought crosses my mind he threads his fingers through mine.
“I’m not surfing. Today we’re watching the pros.”
We make it to the corner of Charlotte and Lumina and I’m suddenly aware of all the pedestrians on their way to the tournament. I’m hyperaware that Adam and I must look like a couple. I hit pause on my love life so many months ago; I almost forgot what it feels like to be a couple in public. Girls in short shorts pass us as we cross the street and some of them make no attempt to hide their ogling. I glance up at Adam to see if maybe he’s egging them on, but his gaze is fixed straight ahead to where Charlotte opens onto the beach.
The street is packed with tourists in shorts and visors and, with no sidewalks, they all roam through the middle of Charlotte Street laughing and talking among themselves. When we reach the sand, I glimpse the bleachers constructed on the beach. Off in the distance, I see a stage where people are already squeezing in against the platform as sound equipment and instruments are set up for a concert. The briny smell of the ocean hits me as a breeze sweeps over us, lifting the hairs that hang loose from my ponytail and making my skin prickle. The sand is warm on the surface but cool when my feet sink down. I haven’t been to the beach in a couple of weeks and I always avoid the beach during big events like this.
My hand is getting sweaty. I feel an intense urge to let go of Adam’s hand to wipe the sweat on my hip, but I don’t. Being uncomfortable is part of being on a date, right? Like holding in your farts when you’re in a new relationship. It’s a necessary evil. Suddenly, I think of the first time I farted in front of Chris and I can’t help but smile.
“Why are you so happy?” Adam asks as we trudge across the sand toward the bleachers.
“I’m thinking of how sweaty my hand feels right now.”
He grips my hand tighter. “Too bad. I’m not letting go.”
“I’ll never let go, Jack,” I whisper dramatically, and he shakes his head.
“You jump, I jump,” he replies, and I laugh.
“You love Titanic,” I tease him. “You know, that first day I saw you in the café, I kept calling you Jack Dawson in my head.”
“Do I look that old to you?”
“No, and you’re much better looking than him, anyway.”
“You’d better watch out, Claire,” he says as we climb the steel steps up to the bleachers. “If you keep saying stuff like that I’m going to be forced to take you into the water for a swimming lesson.”
“I know what that means and I would never. There are a million people out here.”
We sit at the end of a bench a few rows down from the top and the steel bench is hot against the backs of my legs.
He finally lets go of my hand and leans over to whisper in my ear. “I thought you liked taking risks.”
His lips linger against my ear and his breath sends a tingling sensation racing through me. I swallow hard as I shift in my seat and he finally pulls away.
“The first group hits the water in a few minutes,” he says, as if I care. “So we have some time to finish our little game of questions. But this time we have to actually answer. No answering a question with a question.” He grabs my hand again before he begins. “What’s your favorite time of day?”
I pause for a minute to think, though I already know the answer. “That time of day when the sun hasn’t come up yet, but you can already feel it coming. It’s an elusive warmth, like a subtle promise whispered in your ear and you can go on with your day knowing you’ve been given another chance to get it right. Sometimes I get up early just so I can sit outside with a cup of tea and feel it.”
I turn to Adam and his face is serious. “I know it’s a total cliché, but my favorite time of day is sunset.” He takes a deep breath then turns his gaze to the water. “We used to live near Carolina Beach and my dad would
“I’m not surfing. Today we’re watching the pros.”
We make it to the corner of Charlotte and Lumina and I’m suddenly aware of all the pedestrians on their way to the tournament. I’m hyperaware that Adam and I must look like a couple. I hit pause on my love life so many months ago; I almost forgot what it feels like to be a couple in public. Girls in short shorts pass us as we cross the street and some of them make no attempt to hide their ogling. I glance up at Adam to see if maybe he’s egging them on, but his gaze is fixed straight ahead to where Charlotte opens onto the beach.
The street is packed with tourists in shorts and visors and, with no sidewalks, they all roam through the middle of Charlotte Street laughing and talking among themselves. When we reach the sand, I glimpse the bleachers constructed on the beach. Off in the distance, I see a stage where people are already squeezing in against the platform as sound equipment and instruments are set up for a concert. The briny smell of the ocean hits me as a breeze sweeps over us, lifting the hairs that hang loose from my ponytail and making my skin prickle. The sand is warm on the surface but cool when my feet sink down. I haven’t been to the beach in a couple of weeks and I always avoid the beach during big events like this.
My hand is getting sweaty. I feel an intense urge to let go of Adam’s hand to wipe the sweat on my hip, but I don’t. Being uncomfortable is part of being on a date, right? Like holding in your farts when you’re in a new relationship. It’s a necessary evil. Suddenly, I think of the first time I farted in front of Chris and I can’t help but smile.
“Why are you so happy?” Adam asks as we trudge across the sand toward the bleachers.
“I’m thinking of how sweaty my hand feels right now.”
He grips my hand tighter. “Too bad. I’m not letting go.”
“I’ll never let go, Jack,” I whisper dramatically, and he shakes his head.
“You jump, I jump,” he replies, and I laugh.
“You love Titanic,” I tease him. “You know, that first day I saw you in the café, I kept calling you Jack Dawson in my head.”
“Do I look that old to you?”
“No, and you’re much better looking than him, anyway.”
“You’d better watch out, Claire,” he says as we climb the steel steps up to the bleachers. “If you keep saying stuff like that I’m going to be forced to take you into the water for a swimming lesson.”
“I know what that means and I would never. There are a million people out here.”
We sit at the end of a bench a few rows down from the top and the steel bench is hot against the backs of my legs.
He finally lets go of my hand and leans over to whisper in my ear. “I thought you liked taking risks.”
His lips linger against my ear and his breath sends a tingling sensation racing through me. I swallow hard as I shift in my seat and he finally pulls away.
“The first group hits the water in a few minutes,” he says, as if I care. “So we have some time to finish our little game of questions. But this time we have to actually answer. No answering a question with a question.” He grabs my hand again before he begins. “What’s your favorite time of day?”
I pause for a minute to think, though I already know the answer. “That time of day when the sun hasn’t come up yet, but you can already feel it coming. It’s an elusive warmth, like a subtle promise whispered in your ear and you can go on with your day knowing you’ve been given another chance to get it right. Sometimes I get up early just so I can sit outside with a cup of tea and feel it.”
I turn to Adam and his face is serious. “I know it’s a total cliché, but my favorite time of day is sunset.” He takes a deep breath then turns his gaze to the water. “We used to live near Carolina Beach and my dad would
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