Page 79 of Our Hearts Knew Better

The sigh in his shoulders puts a slack in my defense, and looking into his eyes now, I see the guy I’ve known since we were kids. We know each other better than anyone, and I give him a nod when he glances at my dad’s metal pirate ship hanging on the wall, with his own nod at me, making plans to finish this talk in a way we haven’t done since we were teenagers.

Beer and boat.

Slippery

Levi

“This town. And my father.” Adam carps out both like they’re curse words, where we’re lounging on the deck of the Gilligan, bobbing by the caves, watching the sun set. And I raise my bottle in apology to the town and in agreement for the latter being a curse. “I start tomorrow. Right away. No time to settle in.”

Now I cheers his bottle with mine. “To on the job hangovers.”

We tip back a swallow, Adam laughing as he says, “You get it.”

I do, but I don’t like it. I enjoyed every day with my dad. I’d trade each one we had just to have more. Both Adam and Summer would trade theirdads, both having a bottle with their names on them, Griffin and Floyd made from pieces of shit. Griffin more than Floyd.

I tip back another drink, more aware of the bottle in my hand, its sweat cooling into my palm, and the light lapping of the water that kept my dad, realizing, in a way not his fault, I, too, now have a bottle with his name.

“Summer gets it,” I chime out, after clearing my throat of a snagged swallow of beer, bringing us back to her and their relationship, as I’ve already done two other times, feeling like I’m just throwing myself into a whirlpool.

“She tried to talk me down from doing this,” Adam says after a few beats, swinging his bottle by the neck between us, like a half reference to me trying to talk him out of drinking once we got on the boat, knowing he’s become chummier with alcohol in the last year and how that has affected Summer—and himself.

“See?” I say to Summer’s understanding, a hoarse prod for him to let her in more. I soothe my throat with another drink and Adam follows behind.

“I think she just didn’t wanna come back.”

I shake my head, a motion of denial, in parts for myself. She had more than one reason not to come back. But they aren’t why she did.

“She cares about you, Adam.”

Summerlistenedto him. Going along with him working for his dad, even as she and I both have the fear he’s using this as a distraction and robbing himself of any stability.

Giving him the chance to prove he can turn their life around because he asked for it.

Staying by his side with the hope for that life.

The life they had. That’s theirs.Yearsdeep. Historical.

A history I had a hand in making.

I’ve taken several swallows back to back by the time he lets out a sighed, “Yeah, I know.” He sits higher in his seat as he tips back his bottle. “I have a plan,” he reminds me, although he never gave me details of this plan, coming off cryptic.

“And Summer?” blurts out of me, from the reminder that when he first told me he has a plan, it was apparent his girlfriend wasn’t part of it.

“What are you really trying to say?” Adam asks, eyeing me head-on, his sigh now a blow of impatience. “She doesn’t have feelings for you anymore,” he adds against the lip of his bottle, saying it toward the bay, his voice as hoarse as mine’s been.

My inner laugh feels like a punch to my chest that he would go there. “I’m not thinking she does,” I tell him, my throat needing another salve.

Adam groans. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve screwed things up,” he says, a lead in his tone for more, and I meet his stare. “But don’t worry about us. Me and Summer. I love her.” He gives mea hard, no questioning look, and I don’t ask anything, if he’s expecting me to. Loving Summer is never a question. “I’m here for her. I won’t lose her.”

I trust that hewantsto be there for her.

I trust that even if he’s not, his own possession in that last declaration won’t let anything take her from him.

I muster up another cheers, raising my bottle for this one, and bringing it straight to my mouth for a gulped swallow.

“I’m not gonna break her heart.”

A laugh fizzes up through my sip. “Like I did?” I scrape beer off my lips with my teeth as I return his hard look, unable to fight my response. My heart’s been fighting this whole conversation, my own claim on her, my still burning torch.

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