Page 58 of Just This Once

I stood, fixing my rumpled blouse and patting away the tears in an attempt to save my makeup.

“A group of us are having drinks and appies to celebrate the last day. Are you in?”

My hand crumpled Whip’s note in my pocket. He had wanted to meet at seven, and a few hits of liquid courage might be the ticket. “I’d love to.”

“I’ll text you the address once we figure it out, but the plan is to only work in our rooms for an hour or so and then head over.”

I smiled at her. “Sounds great.” As she walked toward the door, I stopped her. “Hey, Rach. Have you ever heard of Trawler’s Cove?”

Her eyes sparked with interest. “I have. It’s where local kids go to make out.” She waggled her eyebrows and smirked. “Why? You going there?”

“What? No.” I felt the telltale splotchy heat creep its way up my neck and willed it down. I reached for a plausible excuse. “A couple of kids were talking about it today during small group. I guess my gut was right that they were up to no good.”

Rachel smiled. “Trust that gut. It’s a good one.” She turned back toward her own classroom. “I’ll text you in a bit.” In the hallway, Rachel shot both arms into the air and shouted, “School’s out, baby!”

My laughter rang out, and I hurried to clean my classroom. I needed to run back to my apartment to freshen up if I wanted to meet my colleagues for drinks and still be ready for my secret rendezvous with Whip.

TWENTY-ONE

WHIP

For a thirty-one-year-old manwith his shitmostlytogether, I was sweating like a teenager in the awkward throes of puberty. I hadn’t been to Trawler’s Cove since I was trying to get my first glance at a pair of boobs, but it was secluded and close enough to the marina that Emily and I wouldn’t get caught.

The cove was south of the main marina. There was a small beach surrounded by the towering sand dunes, but the cove itself was known for its rocky outcropping.

It was secluded.

Quiet.

I listened to the waves crash against the shore and glanced at my watch.6:57. My hand tapped a rhythm against my thigh as I waited—hoped—for Emily to show.

Low giggling caught my attention as a group of four high school-aged kids lumbered over the rocky edge of the cove’s north wall. Two boys helped two girls climb down the edge as they doggedly ogled their dates.

Once they hit the sand, I cleared my throat.

“Oh shit,” one kid remarked, his eyes growing wider. “Hey, uh...” He looked around at his buddy for help.

I crossed my arms and tipped my head. “Beat it.”

One of the girls pulled at his arm and looked at me warily as she whispered, “Come on. We can find somewhere else.”

I knew I was being a prick—laying claim to a teenage hangout known for canoodling—but I needed the privacy. I stayed rooted to my spot.

The other boy shook his head. “Yeah, man. Let’s go up that way.” He pointed to a strip of beach farther up the coastline.

Satisfied, I watched them disappear around the far corner of the cove and exhaled a sigh of relief.

“I didn’t realize you were such a curmudgeon.” Emily’s soft voice floated over my shoulder, and I turned.

My face split into a smile. Emily was dressed in white low-top sneakers with a silver star on the side. Her denim shorts were lightly frayed at the hem and the distressing cut high on her thigh. It was only the beginning of summer, but her skin already held a slight tan. I wanted to run my hands up her thighs and see if they felt as soft as they looked. Her simple V-neck T-shirt was tucked into the front of her jean shorts, and she’d topped it with a soft, oversize cardigan becauseof course she did.

Somehow Emily made casual look effortlessly sexy.

I offered her my hand as she navigated the uneven rocks. “Glad you could make it, Prim.”

“You’re lucky I did.” Emily’s feet landed on the sand with a soft thud. “I had to ask around to figure out what Trawler’s Cove was, and it sounds awfully murdery if you ask me.”

“Why do you always think I’m trying to kill you?” I teased, remembering a similar comment she made about the dark road that leads to my house on the night we met.

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