“I do?” I’d never noticed before.
“You do.” The side of his mouth lifted into a lopsided grin, one that made him look boyish. Sexy even. “It’s cute.”
His words were simple enough, but there was something about them that made me pause. The air seemed to spark with that same something, causing my stomach to twist and flip with an unexpected feeling. It took everything I had to look away, to cut the moment, whatever it was, we were sharing in half, but I did. I tipped my beer to my lips and took another sip. The bitter taste blasted across my tongue, but I resisted the urge to spit it out.
“There it is again.” I glanced his way at the sound of his voice. There was a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. “Don’t drink it if it’s piss warm, Charlotte.”
“It’s fine,” I lied. “It’s not piss warm.”
“Yeah. I’d say it is.” He reached for it, but I cradled the bottle close to my chest to keep him from getting it. “Let me have it.” He laughed.
“No. I’ll drink it.” I ducked away from him when he lunged for it again.
“Seriously, there’s more in the fridge. I’ll go get you another one.”
“Not necessary.” I pushed his hand back and leaned farther away from him. He moved with me. I wasn’t sure how it happened, but the next second Dawson lost his footing and slipped. His chest landed in my lap, his beer at my feet, and my beer clunked him in the back of the head.
He laughed, and I laughed. Neither of us moved for a drawn out moment, each of us soaking in the humor of the situation. Finally, he corrected himself and rubbed the back of his head where I had hit him. I reached to feel if there was a knot, and was surprised to feel a tiny lump forming.
“Oh my God.” I attempted to stifle my laugh, but it wasn’t happening. “I’m so sorry, but that’s what you get for calling my beer piss warm. Obviously, it took offense.”
“I guess so.” He dropped his hand from his head, and bent to retrieve his now empty bottle from where it landed at my feet. My heart lurched in my chest at the sudden feel of his breath on my legs. I sank my teeth into my bottom lip, watching the back of his head as he inched upward, rolling his body back into a sitting position beside me.
Our stares collided once he had righted himself, and it was as though time stood still for a few heartbeats. The same sensation I felt from minutes before rippled through the air around us again. This time I knew what it was, and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t equal parts ashamed and excited by the feel of it.
I focused on his lips. How they were pressed together into a thin line as though he wasn’t sure if this sensation zapping around us was right either. Inch by inch the space between us seemed to be feathering away, becoming nothing, and I wasn’t sure which one of us was choosing to erase it. His breathing grew shallow, and I felt my body tingle to life from the nearness of him.
I had always wanted this. I had always wanted him. The old desire from my teenage years pulsed to life within me. I had spent the last few months shoving everything I felt for him away, but in this moment something stirred inside me again. His scent triggered old memories, starting with my first kiss on the dock and flashing all the way up until now. My heart hammered inside my chest as I watched his familiar blue eyes scan my face. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, or if he was looking for anything at all, but I wondered what my expression told him. Did it reflect acceptance for this moment and where it would go, or fear for how it would hurt Emma, or guilt for how much I wanted this, him, even though I knew it wasn’t right? Maybe it was a confusing combination of all three.
The distinct sound of a cell phone ringing pulled me back. Where was it coming from? Was it my phone? Had I brought one out here? Dawson reached into his pocket, and I realized it wasn’t mine; it was his.
This was all I needed for my mind to come back to me, for my conscience to speak, and for guilt to swarm me. I scooted away from Dawson as he fumbled to answer his phone, putting space between us that should have never been erased. My gaze shifted to the house. I scanned the windows, praying Emma hadn’t seen what nearly happened between us. The house looked asleep, all except for the kitchen, but I didn’t see anyone. Maybe we were okay. Dear God, I hoped we were.
“Hello?” Dawson’s voice ripped through the night, slicing the silence surrounding us into tiny bits.
I took another sip of my piss warm beer and grimaced at the awful taste. A new one would be nice, but I didn’t think it would be wise to share it with Dawson. Not tonight. Maybe not ever again after what almost happened. How could we have come so close to kissing? What were we thinking? What was I thinking? He was Emma’s fiancé.
“Okay, um, I’ll be there in a minute. I just, um, oh, God. Okay.” My gazed shifted to him. Something was wrong. Dawson’s face had grown pale, and his chest heaved as though he couldn’t get enough air. My heart hammered as I watched him continue to break apart in front of me. “I know. Okay. Yeah. No, I’m all right.” He exhaled a deep breath, and I wondered who was on the other end of his phone. The voice sounded like a woman’s, but it was too muffled to make out her words clearly.
“Is everything okay?” I whispered, unable to handle not knowing anymore.
His eyes met mine, and all I could see was his pain. I was transported back to the hospital, to seeing Dawson doubled over in pain from the sight of Emma. “Thanks. Thank you for calling. I’ll be there shortly.” Dawson’s fingers fumbled to hit the end call button on his cell. He pulled in a shaky breath and dropped his gaze to his hands.
I watched him, waiting for a reply. He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he moved to lean his elbows against his knees and hung his head. My heart beat triple time.
“I have Mrs. Nelson from next door stay with my dad in the evenings when I come over here. She’s a retired registered nurse. Did you know that?” There was a wild tone to his words, one that had me wondering if he was holding back, trying to hide from his breaking point. “I pay her a little, not much, but a little to sit with him when I can’t. I figured it was good for both of us. Gives her extra money, gives me piece of mind.” His voice shook, and I noticed tears roll down his face.
I brushed my hand against his warm back, hoping to offer him some comfort. “What happened, Dawson? Is everything okay?”
“No.” He shook his head. “She called to tell me Dad stopped breathing. She called an ambulance, but said there isn’t anything they will be able to do. He’s gone. Died in his sleep.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I said nothing. My mind raced as I wondered if I should go inside to wake Emma up. She should be the one to console him, right?
Suddenly, I wasn’t sure. How could I expect her to console anyone when she couldn’t even console herself? I chewed along my bottom lip, wondering if that was a decision I should let her make for herself.
“Is it bad that I feel sort of relieved?” His voice cracked, and more tears trickled down his cheeks. His eyes lifted to meet with mine, and I saw the conflicting emotions slicing through him all at once. “Does that make me a bad person?”
I swallowed hard. “No.” The word came out stronger than I thought it would, because it was the truth. He wasn’t a bad person; he was human. It was normal for us to not want to see someone we loved suffering anymore.
“Then why do I feel like I am?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question for him, so I did the only thing I knew to do. I reached out and wrapped my arms around him, offering the only thing I could—to hold him until he could piece himself back together again.