Page 42 of Seas the Dating Coach

It takes me three stumbling heartbeats to realize that I’m pressed between Vivian’s fabric-covered legs, and that her right hand is gripping my hip. When did I move forward? How did Vivian touch me without me noticing? Probably because I’d been consumed by the insatiable need to kiss her again. Another second and I was going to start at that frantic pulse point at her neck and work my way up.

“Um.” Letitia’s dark skin pinks slightly before she flips. “Never mind.”

A handful of bingo cards slips from her arms, but Letitia doesn’t even look back. In fact, she uses the pink cardstock to shield her face until she descends the stairs.

I want to laugh, but the impulse swiftly dies once I catch Vivian’s panicked eyes. “Shouldn’t you go after her?”

“And do what?”

“Tell her she didn’t see what she thought she saw.”

My step back is so forceful I send my rolling chair skittering. For a second, I thought—

No. Nothing’s changed. Vivian has been very clear about her desire to date Atticus. I was the one who pushed things by flirting when I shouldn’t have. This is my fault. I barely resist the urge to fist my hands at my own idiocy.

“You’re right,” I say, heading toward the door. “I’ll go talk to her.”

Once I attempt damage control with an unconvinced Letitia, I return to my office. To my surprise, Vivian is still here, hugging herself and staring at the ocean. I clear my throat so as to not startle her and lean against the doorjamb.

“Everything’s sorted.”

I hate that her brow softens at my words. “Good. Thank you.”

A casual nod bobs my chin, though it feels like all my tendons are a half inch shorter. Everything in my body is tight.

“I’ve been thinking…” Vivian twirls her pinky ring. “Maybe I should take the first step with Atticus. Text him and ask him to Bayside Table? It’s not the 1950s, right? I don’t need to wait for him to make the first move.”

“You don’t.” I cross to my desk, packing my things for the night. I need to get out of this room, out of this conversation, more than I need oxygen.

Blessedly, Vivian takes the hint and gathers her canvas bag. “Okay, I’ll do that.”

“You should.” It takes all my strength not to fling those words at her like a moody teenager.

I just need some space to get my head on straight. Atticus is who Vivian truly wants. She’s just practicing with me. I need to understand that I’m here to help, not for keeps. I shouldn’t be upset. This is how I like my dating life. I’ve always kept things short term so I didn’t have to open up, because my life is overly complicated.

That and the one woman who got beneath my layers didn’t want the real me. I’m not putting myself in a position to be shattered again. It isn’t worth it.

I slip on a carefree smile and slide my messenger bag over my shoulder. “I’ll text once I’m parked tonight. I’m assuming you’ll want to pack the car without waking Brynn.”

Vivian’s brows are furrowed, her gaze fixed on a gray carpet square. “What?” She glances up. “Oh, yes.”

We walk shoulder to shoulder down the stairs until I break off with the pretenses of checking in on Letitia.

A splash of disappointment skirts her face, which is confusing as heck. “Okay.” Vivian bites her lip. “See you later, friend.”

That last word was a dagger I really didn’t need, but message received. From now on, I’m keeping six feet of space between us at all times.

“Bye, Vivian.”

I wait a minute before leaving, but instead of going home, I head to the small market. After buying all the cold sodas in Dotty’s refrigerator section and twenty bags of chips, I return to the library meeting room to raucous applause. They even pause the game to receive my gifts—something Letitia assures meneverhappens.

Bingo is apparently very cutthroat in Wilks Beach. A table needed repairing last week after being flipped in a dispute of who called “Bingo” first. They don’t even play for prizes, just clout and their name on a winner’s circle poster that hangs in the corner.

A handful of locals invites me to play, but I make excuses. What I need more than anything is to remind myself who I really am. I’m no one’s forever. Vivian wouldn’t make a cosmic wish for someone to date for a few weeks.

I check my watch: twenty after five. Just enough time to get off this island for a few hours. Pulling out my phone, I call Alec.

“Please tell me you’re coming out tonight,” he answers. “I’ve had such a crappy week, and I need to bury my sorrows in a dumb blonde.”

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