Page 38 of Diving In

The way his words came out rushed and jumbled together was unusual. Not to mention Cal was very much a guy who looked directly in your eyes, and not once did he make eye contact with me as he uttered that nonsense.

Could he be lying?

About what, I wasn’t sure, but what I did know was that I immediately felt disappointed. I’d thought—hoped—he was different, but like every man that had ever waltzed into my life, whether put there by chance or because I chose to put them there, he’d lied to me.

Not wanting to reveal too much, I responded, “Well, I guess I can say I told you so.”

“I guess so,” he offered with zero enthusiasm, not even committing to this lie he was telling me. “Looks like he’d been sleeping here for a while.”

As I glanced around the main area of the boathouse for the first time, it looked like someone had been living here, but I had a hard time believing it was just somebeach bum. There were blankets scattered everywhere, more take-out boxes than I’d ever seen, and a wide variety of records sprawled across a card table that held a very vintage-looking record player.

All of this confirmed my suspicion that Cal had been lying. It was clear that someonehadbeen living in the boathouse, but I was fairly confident that a beach bumwith no money could never afford to order this ungodly amount of food. If one had enough money for take-out, why not just get a motel room versus squatting in a stranger’s home and risking getting caught?

As the truth settled, the mood shifted. We both knew Cal wasn’t telling the truth, but neither of us wanted to address it. Me for reasons I didn’t want to get into, and Cal for reasons I couldn’t understand. So instead, we just hung around in silence, waiting for the rain to let up. For the first time, the silence between us was uncomfortable and isolating.

And now he’d lied to me. But why?

“Got it,” I managed to say. “Well, I appreciate you checking it out, but I can take it from here.”

His gaze finally connected with mine, and it was almost enough to make me completely ignore the fact that he had just lied to me. The way he was looking at me stripped the breath straight from my lungs. His eyes were so apologetic, the joy that usually sprang from them completely gone. I could tell he wanted to say something, but instead, he just walked closer to me and pulled me into his arms.

Except this time, it feltdifferent.

This time he was holding back. I could literally feel his reservations. His embrace felt lighter, not as secure as before. It felt like he was moments away from pulling away and never coming back.

In a mere forty-eight hours, this man had become something to me, and while I may not understand what that something was, I knew that it felt good and comforting andright.

As the reality that he wasn’t mine at all began to set in, I stepped away from him, straightened my shoulders, and prepared myself for goodbye.

“I need to get back to the aquarium. I’d just gotten there when you called and didn’t get a chance to finish everything I needed to.” His eyes roamed around the boathouse before finally landing on me again.

I stared back at him, wishing he’d just tell me why he was lying. “Yeah, you should get back.” I fidgeted with my fingers nervously. “I’ve got to get my shit together and get myself packed.”

As the words left my mouth, his eyes immediately darkened and the muscles in his jaw tensed. “Pack?”

“My flight is tomorrow night at six,” I answered without hesitation, almost as if I had programmed my mind to not forget my original plan.

I had just arrived on the island yesterday, and I’d really meant it when I said I was only staying for three days. But now, with day three hanging around the corner, it all of a sudden seemed like time was moving too quickly.

“You’re not even going to stay for the annual Fourth of July fireworks?” he asked, disappointment taking over his expression.

My only condition of coming here was that I was here and gone within seventy-two hours. I could hear Jack’s voice echoing between my ears, saying, “Anything longer than three days and the next thing you know, you’re a local.” Getting off this island was what needed to happen, plain and simple.

Because despite the time I’d shared with Cal,there was nothing left for me here. Not to mention, July 4thwasn’t just America’s birthday, it was mine too, and this island was the last place I planned on celebrating.

“Three days, no longer,” I responded, offering no further explanation and assuming that he didn’t really need one anyway.

“I figured. We all know the three-day rule.” He wavered for a second before continuing, “Well, I’ll be around if you need anything.”

He turned, started toward the door, and paused. I knew he wanted to turn around, I could feel it, but he didn’t. Instead, he twisted the door handle and walked out.

CHAPTER 15

Trying to clear my head, I walked up the wooden stairs and back into the kitchen for a glass of water. As I stood there peering out the window, I noticed the rain had stopped and the sun was peeking from behind the clouds.

The time that I’d spent with Cal had been so refreshing, but our last encounter had reminded me just how quickly things can change. Summer flings are exactly that—flings.And sure, maybe forty-eight hours isn’t enough to even be considered a fling, but it sure felt like one to me.Hell, maybe this thing between Cal and me was nothing more than a soft place to land after just having gone through a breakup. No matter how right it had felt, how righthehad felt.

I needed to finish what I came here for and get the hell off this island.

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