Page 33 of Until Tomorrow Comes
Relief courses through me the moment I recognize Kat in the shadows of the early morning. I spot her flip flops, pausing for a moment to take off my socks and toss them down next to them before making my way down the path.
She doesn’t speak or acknowledge me aside from the slight turn of her head, glancing at me briefly with a slight nod, before turning back to the ocean. Taking advantage of the distance between us, I study her.
A soft blanket is thrown over her shoulders, barely covering her. A shiver rolls down her spine as her long dark hair spills in waves down her side, gently blowing in the cool breeze. The ocean air before the sun rises is always cooler, but with the past week barely hitting the low seventies, that blanket is doing nothing to keep her warm.
I step up next to her, taking a moment to scan along the coast. Before I can think of anything to say, Kat speaks up.
“Sometimes I feel like being this close to the ocean is more therapeutic than actual therapy.” Her voice is quiet, barely loud enough to hear over the waves. I look down at her, not missing the way she shivers again as the cool breeze hits us. Without thinking, I’m removing my hoodie and breaking the stare off she was having with the waves to hand it to her.
Kat stares at the hoodie for a moment before turning her head toward me, eyes catching on my chest and arms before she meets my gaze. Before she can protest, I shake my head.
“I normally throw it on one of the deck chairs before my run anyway.”
At that she raises a pointed brow at me while hesitantly taking my hoodie. I shrug and respond to her unasked question, “It’s a habit to grab it.”
Dropping her gaze from mine, she bunches the blanket up and tucks it between her knees while she shrugs my hoodie on. The crop top she has on lifts, drawing my gaze to her smooth skin. I don’t miss the discoloration of the scar on her hip that I hadn’t noticed that night I fell asleep with her, causing my chest to tighten.
Clearing my throat, I turn away as the hoodie falls in place over her body, practically drowning her in the fabric. She’s probably considered tall to most people, but next to me, she only comes up to my chest. She moves to set the blanket down just off the pathway toward the house.
“Doc Davis told me that the negative ions in the ocean air is what makes us calm.” I grip the back of my neck while I ramble. “And that the rhythmic predictability of the waves helps de-stimulate our brains.”
“The sounds and views trigger the parasympathetic nervous system and allow us to relax.” Kat chuckles, stepping forward with a quick glance over her shoulder. “She gave me the same article to read over when I told her that the grounding method doesn’t always work to calm me down.”
I follow after her, wanting to ask what she means. When we stop, our feet are just out of reach from touching the water.
“Grounding method?” I question, unsure of how else to ask what that is. Kat nods, watching intently as the waves creep toward us.
“It’s a calming technique, typically used to stop panic or anxiety attacks by using your senses. I was taught about it with the five-four-three-two-one steps back in college. When you feel a panic attack coming on for example, break it down,” she explains.
I intently watch as she turns her head away from me and toward Thea’s house.
“First, name five things you can see. Water, sand, seashell, house, grass.” Kat steps forward, letting the next wave crash against her feet and causing a small smile to spread prettily across her face. “Then name four things you can touch. Water,” She looks down at her feet and I follow her gaze, watching as she wiggles her toes. “Sand, sweater…” She trails off, bringing her eyes back up to me and reaching out. Without hesitation she takes my hand in hers. “You.”
My heart skips a beat when she doesn’t let go.
“Three?” I question quietly.
“Three things you hear.” She says while tilting her head, and I respond as if she asked me to.
“Waves, birds, and you breathing.”
She chuckles lightly, nodding her head and continuing. “Now, two things you can smell.”
I take a slow, deep breath in through my nose.
“The ocean air and,” I pause, closing my eyes while taking another breath. My brows furrow as I inhale. “Coconut?”
“Coconut?” She asks.
“Your shampoo.” I glance at Kat, noting the way her cheeks stain pink in the early morning light.
She continues, clearing her throat and holding my stare. “And lastly, name one thing you can taste.”
My eyes fall to her lips, my mind immediately wondering what she would taste like. I clear my throat, unable to look away when I answer her and wanting my answer to be different than it is.
“Salt.” My voice is low and it takes all my effort to not close the distance between us. She squeezes my hand once before breaking my trance and pulling away to tuck her hair behind her ears.
I force myself to step forward, letting the cool waves wash away the thoughts of kissing her. After a moment passes, I realize something.
