Page 65 of Shy Girl
After another moment of hesitation, Vik nodded.
“Yeah.”
“We all want to stay together.” I nodded to Bastian, who nodded back. “But we might need to figure out what that looks like now, as adults. Yes, we may have wives. Grady will have ten kids, Vik will have ten wives that won't ever meet each other, and Bastian will always be frightened of women. Agreed?”
Bastian shot me a glare.
Grady nodded and looked to Vik. “I'm sorry, man. I see it. We're always here. We'll always be friends.”
Vik nodded.
I held up both hands. “Great. Now that's over with and we can stop being annoyed with each other, I need to go talk to Dagny really quickly. Then we can get on to this business of getting married, already.”
Grady swiped the remote from my hand and shut the TV off. “You can talk to Dagny later.” He tossed it back to the couch and pointed to Bastian and Vik. “Right now, we need to go over the ceremony, look at your tuxedos, and get ready for thesee the bridemoment. You good for it, Best Man? Your girl can wait!”
A lingering challenge lived in that question. This washiswedding. Was I going to be the one to mess it up? An itch to tell Dagny about the kiss with Victoria, and how it only made me want her, and things would be different when we returned, reared its head. But it would have to wait.
Properly chastised, I nodded once. He was right. Best Man duties awaited, no matter how badly I wanted to explain things to her. To tell her that Victoria was a wisp of a dream—but she was the real thing. That boys had to grow up and some women had to go away, but together, we would stay.
Dagny would have to wait . . . at an island resort with delicious food, white sand beaches, and as much sunshine as she'd get anywhere. I had a feeling she'd be just fine for a few hours.
“Of course. We're good,” I said. “Let's do it.”
Grady grinned in a way that took up his whole face. “Then let's get this settled between me and my wife, y'all. I'm gettingmarried!”
17
Dagny
The sound of water slapping the beach reverberated through the bungalow. I stared at the ceiling, half asleep, buried in thoughts of sandy beaches, pristine oceans vistas, and Jayson Hernandez with his shirt off, playing in the ocean.
That would haunt my dream for years to come.
With a little sigh, I shuffled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. A soft breeze drifted through the room, stirring my hair. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, my thoughts heavy—yet light—with Jayson.
This trip had done exactly what I didn't want—entrench me even farther in my feelings for him. Now, I'd seen a side of him that I hadn't before. The gentle side. The fun side. The side that didn't prioritize danger and drama over safety. Even in Pineville, I saw that same intensity channeled into a different place: safety for others.
Now that I sawthisside of him, I couldn't unsee it. It made sense, in some strange way, that I should fall harder than ever for him, instead of being more able to let him go. I scoffed when I remembered my plan to see the human side of him and be able to stop my obsession.
That had failed on an epic proportion.
But maybe that was okay. Because hadn’t he been amazingly honest? Wasn’t there a level of adoration in his gaze I’d never hoped to see?
So why did I still hesitate? Why couldn’t I just have some courage andtellhim already?
While I picked over a piece of toast and some orange juice, my thoughts wandered back to Pineville. We'd leave tomorrow; reality would return. I wouldn't wake up to coconut shell knick knacks decorating the spaces of a gentle bungalow constantly filled with the sound of the ocean. The whir of the Frolicking Moose would take its place. With it came the comforts of the mountains and the dull steadiness of my predictable routine.
Jayson Hernandez might be a more constant part of that routine. I could barely comprehend the thought.
Although I'd been ignoring her so far, Victoria's voice filtered back through my mind. The night of the dinner, she'd acted startled that I'd been attending an online school. As if the position of the school had any bearing on the education that it gave to complete the purpose that I wanted.
A knock at the back of the bungalow drew my attention up. The door was open, allowing the breeze to dance through. A male outline filled the doorway, but shadows prevented me from recognizing him right away. I padded over, feet bare on the wooden floor, and came to a fast stop.
Anthony Dunkin smiled at me.
My heart dropped into my stomach as I reached the door, then paused with my hand halfway there. For a heartbeat, the two of us just stared at each other.
“H-h-hello,” I said.
