Page 17 of Someday Not Soon

That catches him off guard, and the deep, booming laugh that escapes him is so infectious that I can’t help but start laughing too.

Our laughter fades and silence falls between us. He looks over at me, and the intensity of his gaze feels like I’m standing on the edge of something deep and uncharted. I bite my lip, and his eyes track the motion. The expression on his face is completely mesmerized, as if I’ve cast a spell over him.

This is too risky. To feel this level of elation when he does something as simple as look at me.

“I should head back to bed. It was nice talking with you.” I stand to head back to the safety of my room, where I can’t become sucked into this constant pull I have with him. A feeling I suspect will never go away, no matter how many years have passed.

He looks disappointed, but not surprised. “Sweet dreams, El.”

“Thanks,” I reply, though I know my dreams have been anything but sweet for years. “Good night, Jude.”

The flames in the fire pit are dwindling, almost entirely snuffed out by the cool, misty sea breeze, leaving behind only a few bright embers that flicker in the darkness. It feels like a metaphor for us—something that once blazed fiercely, now simmering quietly, yet still undeniably alive.

I try to ignore it, to pretend it doesn’t exist. It’s safer that way.

But deep down, I know that a single spark could reignite the flame.

And starting over would be a dangerous game—one I’m not willing to risk.

Chapter Nine

Ella

Present

The next day,Jude and I manage to avoid each other for most of the morning, as if we’re both aware of the consequences that come with being too close. But despite my best efforts, there are these tiny moments of him scattered throughout the day that lodge themselves in my mind and refuse to let go.

Like how he still reads the morning newspaper and meticulously completes the crossword puzzle, a habit of his that he had then and now. Or the way his eyes briefly drop to my chest when I walk out in nothing but a skimpy tank top and black sweats, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. And how many countless times our eyes inevitably find each other, only to quickly dart away again as if we’ve been caught red-handed in this connection that neither of us can seem to shake.

After a lazy breakfast and a few cups of coffee, our group stumbles down a questionably safe set of stairs off the back deck to the beach. The groomsmen play soccer, kicking up sand and shouting over the crash of the waves, while the bridesmaids spread out on their towels or beneath neon beach umbrellas. We glisten in the intense rays, like we’re slowly toasting under the sun, our bodies here but our minds drifting elsewhere—lost in a hungover purgatory, lulled by the rhythm of the roaring ocean.

The beach stretches on for miles, so despite the crowd, we have our own little pocket of space tucked away beside a sand dune and rocky promontory. The cries from flocks of seagulls, gentle roar of crashing waves, and dull thud of the soccer ball being kicked are oddly relaxing.

Suddenly, I feel a tall shadow looming over me. The temporary shade provides a cool relief from the sun, but when I look up, it’s not the person I had hoped to see. Instead, it’s the one I should have expected.

Levi stands before me like a walking deodorant ad—tanned, abs glistening with a light sheen of sweat that makes them look almost too perfect, almost fake. I want myself to like him. I’m desperate to feel that same connection I have with Jude, with someone else. But you can’t conjure butterflies to life by pure force. And instead of that fluttering I should be feeling with Levi, I feel my stomach drop instead.

“You okay over here? Want to come play soccer?” he asks.

“I’m all good. Just catching up on some reading.” Aftermy mixed signals last night, I’m realizing I need to draw the line and not lead him on.

“Boring. Come have some fun with me instead.” He extends his hand down for me to grab.

Shaking my head, I don’t make a move to grab it. “Thanks, but I’m already having fun. I’d like to finish this.”

“You’re really going to sit and read a book all day?” he says, bristling with annoyance—clearly not used to being told no.

“Yep,” I reply, turning back to my book.

“Ella, c’mon, put that down…” From my peripheral I see his hand start to make a move to grab the paperback from my hands.

But an even larger shadow walks up and looms over both of us. Levi pulls his hand away like he’s been caught stealing. While I turn my head, peeling my sunglasses up to look to see who it is standing right over his shoulder that could make him startle like that.

It’s Jude. Looking murderous, and like a replica of every dream I’ve had for the last ten years. His body is lean and solid, a backwards hat on his head that does more for me than most mens’ attempt at foreplay.

“Go, Levi. They want you back at the game.” His voice is final, no room for arguments.

Shaking his head in irritation, Levi turns and runs back to goalie for his team.

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