Page 42 of Caught Stealing

“You don’t have to—” He chuckles and takes the lead. “You don’t have to explain anything to me, and you don’t have to be sorry for how you feel or what you want. I do understand where you’re coming from.”

“Three years is a long time is all. And the break up was only a few months ago. It’s going to take some time to process that and put it into perspective, I think.”

“Probably, and contrary to what you might think, I do understand why it would be easier to forgive him and fall back into a comfortable routine.” He pulls into a beachfront parking lot and turns off Koa’s car.

“Except it would never be comfortable again. Every time he doesn’t answer his phone or goes on the road, I’ll wonder what he’s doing and who he’s doing it with.”

Andrew shifts in the seat to give me his undivided attention. “Prayer can help with that. People have moved past infidelity before. You have to really want it.”

If this isn’t the most awkward conversation to have with a man who is interested in swooping in and making me forget all about Rory, then I don’t know what is. Chewing the inside of my cheek doesn’t distract me from his unwavering gaze.

“I don't want it.” My admission hits me harder than I anticipate, making my heart race and my mind dizzy. I can’t pinpoint when I fell out of love with Rory, but it’s true. At some point over the past several months, I moved on but my sense of duty to him lingered. If it’s duty and not love keeping me partially on the hook, then I need to figure out how to shift my loyalty to someone who deserves it.

“I get it. It’s hard to get your footing after something like that. You’re kind of stuck. That’s okay, too.” Andrew’s husky tone doesn’t help clear my confusion, but a little salt air and sand on my feet might.

“We should probably go for that walk.”

“Absolutely.” He wastes no time escaping the confines of Koa’s tiny car and opening my door. Once I set foot on the sandy lot and inhale the cool, ocean air under a blazing orange sky, my mood improves. Behind us, the sunset is gorgeous already, and I can’t wait to relax in the sand and watch the wild colors spread over the sky and reflect in the water before us.

We walk through the lot and down the rugged path to the coastline. It’s a little cooler than I expect, but I remove my shoes and roll up my jeans anyway. There are a few other people walking away from us, but for the most part, we’re alone.

“How’s your shoulder?” My voice shatters the peaceful silence and I immediately regret it. I need the quiet. I need to think.

He wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead and frowns. “It’s healing but it’ll be a little while yet before I can pitch again. Could be a few days or a few weeks. It all depends.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Should we really be doing drum lessons while you’re trying to heal? I can’t imagine that’s restful.”

Andrew licks his lips and places his hand on my lower back to guide me away from a clump of seaweed. He leans close and whispers, “What do you think?”

I gasp. “Did I make it worse with the lesson? Andrew!” I shove him and lose my own footing in the wet sand. He tries to catch me but I have too much momentum and hurtle hands first toward the ground. At least I catch myself before I faceplant, but he laughs at me. Well, I’m not going to put up with that. I snatch the mass of seaweed and fling it at him. It smacks the side of his face, sticks for a second, then falls back in a plop on the sand.

“Lottie, shame on you.”

His tone sends chills up my spine, and not out of fear. I’m giddy, excited to see exactly how he plans to dole out his retribution. I scramble on all fours until I can stand and dart away from him. Not once does it occur to me that he might be a fast runner, but I only make it a few feet before he catches me around the waist, flings me around, and plants me firmly in front of him using only one arm.

“Nobody asked for a seaweed pitch to the face.”

I bite my lip and gaze up at him. “You laughed at me. I had to show you why that’s a bad idea, didn’t I?”

“Mmm. Maybe I should show you why it’s a bad idea to throw things at me and run.”

I lift on my toes and lean into him, pressing one hand against his chest. “You could, or I could do it again.” I smoosh a small handful of seaweed over his face with the other hand. He scrunches his nose but takes it like a man…mostly. He digs his fingers deeper into my waist and I know I’m in trouble. Escape is no longer an option, and I’m weighing the intelligence of recent decisions since it seems like I’m about to pay for them all tenfold.

“Darling, why do you tempt fate?” He hoists me up and tosses me into the surf. Of all the things for him to do, tossing me into the water was not one I expected. After all, we’ve borrowed his friend’s expensive sports car and now I’m soaking wet.

“Andrew!” I scramble and stand knee deep in the water with my arms out seriously reconsidering my entire life up until this point. Maybe not all of it, but much of my later years. Rory was fun, but never spontaneous. Everything was meticulously planned to the minute, yet he was sick of the routine? He planned it! If he was bored, it was his fault. And in turn, I lost a little of my sparkle and forgot how to exist in the moment and have fun with someone.

“You’re very cute soaking wet.” He laughs from the dry comfort of the shore. It’s such a bad idea to continue on under the delusion that I can win this battle, but I’m having too much fun to care.

I bolt out of the water and chase him. He zigzags well enough to make it difficult to catch him, but it’s just taunting and teasing enough to tickle my inner competitive nature. Ahead, a low rock wall blocks the way to a private portion of the beach. He’ll either have to leap over it and trespass or turn around and face the music.

“Where are you gonna go? You gotta stop sometime!” I’m almost out of breath when he turns on a dime and I realize I have become the prey. “No! Andrew!” I squeal and dart away only to trip over a driftwood log I skillfully dodged the first time around.

He’s on me in a second and dragging me to the water again. I kick at him, but he’s got a good grip on my feet. I roll onto my back, certain I’m about to go under the water and I’ll need my wits about me to keep from drowning. It’s an overreaction but Andrew has proven himself to be unpredictable.

Where the water hits the dry sand before retreating, he stops and releases me but I can’t get far. He’s fast and has me lifted into his embrace, still with just his good arm. Despite his shoulder injury, he's strong. I find my arms wrapped around his neck, holding fast for the ride back into the unknown.

“What are you doing?” I screech and clutch tighter.

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