Page 19 of The Space Between
I round the bend—and there he is.
His grey t-shirt clings to his back. Sweat is staining it, down the center of his spine, as he lifts a loaded cooler into the back of a flatbed. He doesn’t see me yet. But I seeeverything.
The way his muscles ripple under his shirt. The way his scarred arms flex. The way his teeth grit as he slams the tailgate and mutters something I can’t hear. The early morning sunlight catches the line of puckered, raised tissue cutting through his scruff over his jaw.
Stopping just far enough away that he doesn’t notice me, I just stand there for a second.
Watching. Wanting. Wondering how close I can get before I stop pretending it’s not real. I’m dancing in orbit of the sun and no longer scared of getting burned. I already know…
It’s inevitable.
His head turns. His eyes find mine. He doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t smile, he just…stares.And I swear the air warps between us.
Walking the last few steps toward him, I stop when I’m almost touching his chest with mine.
His stormy eyes stay locked on my amber ones. His jaw ticks. “Blakelyn, you good?” he asks, his voice low and rough.
“I didn’t sleep.” I say.
“Nightmares?” He asks.
I nod.
He wipes his hands on a rag from his back pocket while he studies me like he’s searching for the damage.
I close my eyes before looking right at him. “I saw you,” I say quietly.
His brows lift, but he says nothing. He just continues to stare at me, waiting for whatever I’m about to say.
“In my dream.” I reiterate.
He still doesn’t speak, but his fists tighten at his sides.
“You were standing in the river. Watching me as I sank.” He freezes. “And I didn’twantyou to save me.”
He looks away and exhales rapidly. “I wouldn’t know how.”
I step closer. “I don’t want you to save me… fromyou.”
I said it. I can’t take it back.
His throat moves. His fists clench at his sides. His chest rises with a breath that sounds more like surrender than air. He stares past me, at the gravel under my feet. “I’ve gotta load the last raft,” he gruffly says.
That’s it. Okay then.
Nodding, I step back. He moves around me, purposefully not touching me, but I feel him staring at my back as I walk away.
He’s not unaffected. That wasn’t rejection. It just wasn’t surrender.
He’s watching. Breathing hard.Burning… just like me.
I’m backat the riverbank near enough to the launch that I can see, but not disturb, before lunch. I’m between the cabins and the launch dock.
Not to swim. Not to read. Just tobenear where he is.
I bring a towel and my water bottle and sit in the shade of the cypress trees, my legs stretched out, and my eyes on the current, but watching him upriver from my peripheral vision. I can’t help it.
I don’t expect him to come to me. But he does. He always does. He’s as aware of me as I am of him.
