Page 43 of Sea La Vie
I fake a shudder. “Hmm,” I hum softly. “So basically, what you’re saying is, you live the exact opposite of me.”
“Precisely. It’s never really felt like home though,” he admits. “It feels cold.”
“It sounds miserable,” I tease. “Hey Tate? Can I ask you a serious question?”
His eyebrows knit together in concern. “Of course.”
“I don’t really know how to ask this. But I think it’s really important we get this out in the open.”
Tate’s Adam's Apple bobs as he swallows. “Okay, yeah, anything. What’s up?”
“Do you really change your mattress every three years?”
Tate bursts out in laughter. “Yes, I do.”
“Wow,” I mutter. “Such a city boy thing to do.”
“I have a sensitive back!” He says, throwing his hands up in defense. “Anyway, I’m so glad we got that cleared up.”
“Me too. It was really nagging at me,” I laugh.
The captain reappears. “We’ll be stopping in a few moments. Should I go ahead and bring your lunch up?”
“Let’s take a swim first,” Tate suggests. “Maybe give us a half hour?” The captain nods then walks away. Wasting no time once the boat stops moving, Tate cannonballs over the edge, spraying me with salty water. He resurfaces and shakes his dark hair, more water droplets spraying from him. “Come on in! Water’s fine,” Tate winks again and I timidly step out of my cut offs. I swan dive off the edge and pop up a few feet from Tate.
“Impressive,” he says, eyebrows arched.
I give him a playful splash, and we tread water silently for a few moments. “Want to head to the beach?” I ask. Tate eyes the shoreline hesitantly.
“Sure, yeah.”
We are a few minutes in when I hear, “Uhh…Lainey?”
I turn around to find Tate several yards back. “Yeah?”
”I should’ve… probably… told you… I’m still not the strongest swimmer.” Tate gasps for air, eyes wide with the beginning of panic.
I swim back to him and put his hands on my shoulders. “Still? Kick your feet, and hold on, City Boy.”
“Oh thank God,” he says, gasping for air. I can’t see him, but I know he’s smiling. I can hear it in his voice.
We make it to shore, and Tate dramatically kisses the sand. I roll my eyes but sit down next to him, letting the waves wash over my legs. “Can I ask you something else?” I ask Tate.
“You just did,” he says with a goofy grin and knocks his shoulder into mine.
“It’s not any of my business,” I start, chewing on my bottom lip, thinking about how to ask what I want to. “But you haven’t been back here since you were eighteen. What really made you come back?”
Tate sighs and scoops up a handful of sand. He lets it drip through his fingers, then does it again. “I found my girlfriend cheating on me.”
”Oh,” I say through an exhale, an unwelcome feeling rising up in my belly.
“With the guy who owns the yoga studio she goes to.”
I cringe before he continues. “Oh it gets better,” he says, sarcasm lacing every word. “I was going to propose to her the same night I caught her.”
I knew the chances of Tate staying single the past ten years was slim, but it still stings a little to hear he loved someone enough to propose. It shouldn’t bother me. He has an entire life somewhere else, and I know I shouldn’t let myself get any more attached than I already am. He could pick up and leave anytime he wanted to. It’s just been so easy to slip back into the role of Tate’s best friend and confidant and…everything.
”I’m sorry,” I say, because I’m not sure what else to say. “That must be tough.”
