Page 30 of Crushed By Love

As I wash my hands and make my way back to the group, I contemplate finding my own spot to watch the fireworks alone. That should be my preference, and I tell myself it is, but deep down I know it’s a lie. I want to watch the show with the guys, God help me. The King twins have a magnetic pull on me. I can’t seem to resist either of them. So instead of finding a spot for a single person, I wind my way through the crowd and allow myself to be once again wedged between the two most attractive boys I’ve ever laid eyes on.

“She’s back,” Perry announces sweetly. He just might be the third most attractive boy I’ve ever seen and I really don’t know how to handle all the attention. The guys back home never looked like models nor did they look at me.

Not like this. Not like they want me.

A minute later the show starts and I can finally relax. The bright dazzling bursts of fireworks shake all my thoughts away as the crowd “oohs” and “ahh” over the show. The city is shooting them from a barge out in the ocean, but we’re close enough where we’re sitting that we’re practically right underneath them. After a few minutes of craning our necks, everyone lays back, limbs tangling together in a heap. I imagine this friend group has been in this exact position together for years now. I’m the new one, the one who doesn’t fit into the puzzle, but sitting up would make that even more obvious, so I lay back too.

“I got you,” Cooper hums, tucking me into the crook of his arm so I can lay my head on his shoulder. Electricity buzzes through me at the touch. I shouldn’t read into it. Even if he is trying to make a pass at me, I’m not interested in hooking up with a guy who’s got a different girl in his bed every night. Besides, I’m still annoyed with him for hooking up with someone in my bed. But he knows that he messed up, which is exactly why he’s doing what he’s doing tonight. I’m letting him because I want a friend.

I settle in and relax my breathing. My heart begins to slow to a normal pace. The fireworks are loud and all-consuming, so it’s easy to get lost in them again.

My left hand is to my side and my right is tucked up between myself and Cooper, so when someone grabs my left hand, I know for a fact it isn’t him. My body goes still and I peek at Ethan. He’s not even watching fireworks, nor is he looking back at me––the man is making out with the girl on his other side.

But his hand? His hand is holding mine.

Twelve

He must be mistaken, must think it’s the other girl’s hand that he’s holding. Not mine. I try to pull away and he tightens his grip. What the hell? I try to yank it away this time, and he lifts his face from his partner. She’s laying underneath him now, the fireworks long forgotten. I widen my eyes when he meets my gaze. His are lit up by the fireworks, filled with lust and malice and challenge. I pull my hand away again but he doesn’t let me go. Instead, he threads his fingers with mine, squeezes, and goes right back to kissing his date.

We’re holding hands while he makes out with someone else? Who does that? His thumb starts moving up and down my fingers, as if to acknowledge that this is all on purpose, and my insides explode with their own version of fireworks.

Cooper doesn’t notice. Perry doesn’t either. The woman on her back certainly doesn’t. But Ethan’s hand in mine is all I can feel. We’re all lying in a heap, watching the show, and I try to do the same, try to take it in and enjoy it, try to get lost in the fireworks again, but I can’t.

I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.

My body is aflame, and Ethan is my arsonist.

Is this because Cooper is holding me and he has to compete? Maybe it’s a twisted game to keep me under his spell. I don’t understand anything about Ethan except for the way he makes me feel. And even when the show ends with a brilliant finale, when everyone cheers and Ethan finally releases my hand, I’m still burning. The man has struck a match to a pool of gasoline. He’s started something that I can’t put out no matter how hard I try. It doesn’t matter that Cooper is holding me, or that Perry asked me out. None of that is relevant anymore because there’s no denying the truth. I want Ethan.

The next week flies by without incident. After the fireworks all seems forgotten. The hand-holding with Ethan while he made out with another girl isn’t acknowledged. Perry doesn’t follow up about our date, and it’s like I never cuddled with Cooper. The entire night feels like it was a dream. In fact, any possibility of friendship with the brothers also seems to have disappeared. They’re back to ignoring me and I have a sinking suspicion as to why.

Because Malory and Conrad King left the day after the holiday.

Were the boys only being nice to me because Conrad King told them they had to? I thought they were extending an olive branch, but I no longer think that’s what it was at all. It was a performative act for their father. For whatever reason, Conrad King wants me here and wants me to be something with Ethan. That’s not going to happen, and now that Conrad is gone, I’m back to being invisible.

But that’s fine. Really, it is. I don’t need them. They don’t need me. I don’t belong in their world, and they don’t belong in mine. Sometimes that’s just the way it is, and I accepted that long ago. I know better than to get my hopes up or to assume the best in people. And it’s not that I always assume the worst, but people make it easy. They’re flawed and they make mistakes and as much as I want to belong to them, sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it.

I’m finishing up a long day of cleaning and trying to decide if I want to go anywhere tonight. I haven’t done much besides working and reading for the last week and I’m itching for a little excitement. The rich kids are a bust, but maybe I don’t have to be a loner just because I don’t fit in with them. I could try to make friends with other people on the island. I still have a month left, am I really going to leave with no new connections?

“What are you doing tonight?” Ethan’s voice startles me from my thoughts and I turn to find him standing in the doorway of the cleaning closet. My eyes travel to his bare chest and the low-slung swim shorts hugging his hips. He’s got perfect abs that taper down into a V and I can’t help but look even though I force a step back.

“What do you want?” I croak out.

“Get your bathing suit on. I’m going to teach you how to swim.”

I stare at him, speechless.

“Unless you’d rather go swimming in the nude again. I wouldn’t complain. I’d even join you, but you have to promise to keep your hands to yourself.” He pins me with a smirk.

My mouth pops open but I still don’t know what to say.

“Not that I would call what you did a few weeks ago swimming, which is exactly why I’m going to teach you.”

“Why?” I finally mutter.

He leans in closer, towering over me. Sometimes I forget how tall he is and then he does this. “Maybe I don’t want an accidental drowning weighing on me. Maybe I can’t stop thinking about you out there being tossed about the waves like you were. Maybe I just like to teach people how to swim. I don’t care, take your pick.”

“Oh––okay.”

---