Page 68 of Need You Now

“You know what, I haven’t.” His eyes dare her to argue with him. “But it’s for a good cause, ain’t it? Bossin’ you around.”

“Please,” she sniffs. Then she sits up and crawls onto his lap to straddle him. Her gaze pinned on his, she says, “Let’s go out. I can’t stay cooped up any longer.”

Wariness creases his face. The book bobs in his hands.

“Pleeeeease.” She palms her hands together in a pleading prayer. “The stitches are closed. I’m off antibiotics. I feel good. I want to go out.”

Seth’s blue eyes cloud with uncertainty, the memory of her ripped stitches fresh in his mind. He runs a hand over the back of his head. “I ain’t so sure, Lace ...”

She swallows, anxiety twisting her stomach. “Please, Seth. I need to go to the beach.”

Her happy place. That’s what she needs.

His mouth opens, then closes. He must see something in her eyes, her face, because he relents. He stares at her and then nods. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Lacey walks along the shore beside Seth, watching the waves roll out, her mind going, going, gone with them. This is what she needed. A way to get clear, to calm that panicky racing sensation behind her ribs. To get that motherfucker out of her mind. Prentiss or the mugger, she isn’t sure.

Maybe both.

“Lace?”

She turns, blinking away her daze. “Yeah?”

Seth peers at her, his crystal-blue eyes searching. “You tell me if you get tired.”

She tilts her head, pressing her lips together to hide a smile. “Seth, you’re fussing.”

He grunts. “And I ain’t gonna stop.”

With that, she grabs Seth’s hand, lacing her fingers with his. He smiles and pulls her in close, tucking her against him. His hand warm in hers, warmer than the sun above.

As if reading her mind, Seth glances up and whistles. “Unreal,” he drawls. “How damn nice it is. It’s goddamn December and I ain’t never seen nothin’ like this in my life.”

“You should come out here more often,” she says, squeezing his hand.

The invite lies between them. Casts an uncomfortable silence.

No one’s talked about what happens when Seth leaves.

Three more days and he’s gone. Gone. The very thought has Lacey sick to her stomach.

“You know,” Seth says, picking up the dropped conversation. His gaze drifts to the ocean. “I still remember the first time I saw you on a board. Out in North Carolina, when we went for that show.” His smile looks vaguely like pride. “You sure can surf the shit out of a wave.”

“I wish I could surf now.” She casts a wistful look out at the ocean. As stormy as her heart.

“In the winter?”

“Oh yeah. That’s the best time.”

“What about bein’ cold?”

“Best kind of rush. It’s like a shock, but you breathe through it and you beat it.”

“Hell, Lace, I don’t know,” Seth drawls. “What else you been keepin’ from me?”

She smiles at the awe in Seth’s voice.

“I can hold my breath for four minutes.”

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