Page 67 of Catch and Release

“Grams, it’s not 1950,” he said. “Men and women can be friends without there being anything else between them.”

“Hmmm.”

“I don’t want you to get your hopes up that something is going to happen between us when it isn’t. Let it go, alright?”

Grams studied him for a moment.

“Okay, Scooby. I’ll let it go.”

Not entirely convinced that he’d gotten her to drop it—but unwilling to stay behind and try to further his point—he stepped out to the backyard and breathed in the salty air. the Bay glistened in the sunset, the sky cotton-candy pink, and he grabbed the bucket of shrimp he’d brought over from the shop this morning. He was technically a little earlier than usual, but as he started walking toward her house, he saw her sitting in a beach chair on the edge of the wharf, wearing loose-fitting shorts and a tank top, sipping a glass of wine.

And she looked fucking stunning.

God, he’d never get tired of looking at her. The way her hair framed her face, the curve of her cheeks, the delicate curve of her neck. Her head was tipped back, eyes closed in peace. As he got closer, he heard some light music playing—something instrumental, classical.

Shawn didn’t want to disturb her. He wanted to freeze this moment in time, bottle up the way she looked and made him feel just by being, and stay there forever, watching her soak in a perfect sunset and salty air that reminded him there were depths of this earth yet to be explored. He wanted to watch her from afar, count the freckles on her face and the hairs on her head. He wanted her to always be this content, this peaceful, this happy.

But as if she felt his gaze, she sat up and made eye contact with him, heat blooming in her cheeks as her lips curved.

“It’s creepy to stare,” she said with a smirk.

“Can’t help myself. You’re too goddamn pretty,” Shawn said before he could stop himself as he walked toward her.

Her lips parted and she looked away.

“I know I’m a little early, but we can get started before the sun is completely down if you want,” Shawn said, trying to break the silence that came between them.

“Or we can go inside and do something else,” Willa said, her eyes darting to his mouth.

He groaned, shifting as his cock hardened.

“As much as I would love that, we shouldn’t,” Shawn said, and Willa frowned. “Grams asked some leading questions about the nature of our relationship earlier, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s watching us with her binoculars.”

Willa clapped her hand over her mouth, then tipped her head back and laughed.

Shawn reached in his pocket to grab the photo and hand it to her, but as she grinned at him, he decided against it. Nobody had to know if he kept this picture of her all to himself.

“I knew she would be a menace,” she said. “Alright, then let’s get this show on the road.”

They walked out to the edge of the wharf in companionable silence. The sky was now gray, the pink and purple gone as the sun set lower, and the LED light Willa left permanently on was shining over the water where some minnows were swimming swiftly.

They wordlessly grabbed fishing rods, baited them, and tossed their lines in the water as the darkness covered the Bay like a blanket. Part of the reason Shawn wanted to make sure this part of their arrangement didn’t go away—the friend part—was because of how easy it was to be around her. He wanted to learn everything there was about her, sure, but it was just as relaxing to sit in silence with her. He didn’t feel like he needed to fill it with mindless babbling or thoughtful questions. He could just be.

Shawn had few friendships that were so quickly comfortable for him. And he didn’t want to risk losing what he had with Willa.

“Do you miss California?” he asked, breaking the silence.

She glanced over at him, then back to where her line was resting in the water.

“Not as much as I thought I would.” Her voice was quiet, but piercing in the stillness of the night. “I lived there for ten years. There are a lot of amazing things about California. The weather is always pretty temperate. There are so many things to do, especially in San Francisco. The restaurants are amazing. As a yogi, there were always trainings I could take part in or lead. And a lot of my college friends lived there.”

Shawn waited for a moment before saying, “But?”

“But.” Willa laughed. “But, we got older. A lot of my college friends left SF for other places. Cheaper places. I couldn’t blame them. And I think I always craved a slower pace. That was the one thing I could never quite get the hang of—the hustle and bustle, how fast everything moved. My best friend, Charlie, loves it. She’ll live in SF until she dies. But I think I always knew I’d end up back here.”

Maybe they were kindred spirits in that way. Shawn couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

“Why’s that?” he asked.

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