Chapter 17

Riley enjoyed kissing Evan. He ignored two phone calls while he explored her mouth, kissed her neck, and whispered sweet things in her ears. Finally, he said, “It’s Carl. Can I take this?”

“Do what you need to do,” she said, her voice bordering on husky and breathless.

“I didn’t tell him I was leaving LA.” Evan stood up and swiped on the call. “Hey, brother.”

Riley watched him walk back into her tiny house, his height almost too much for her low ceilings. She sighed, because having him back on the island was wonderful. But he hadn’t told his brother? Why not?

She could hear him talking in the kitchen, but she didn’t try to make out what he was saying. She’d missed him too, and having him back was wonderful. But the fact that he hadn’t told his brother he was leaving, and things hadn’t been settled with his contracts, meant that he’d be leaving again very soon.

It’s fine, she told herself. People had long distance relationships all the time. She had an operational phone, and she and Evan had spoken every day while he’d been in LA. All fifteen of them.

He came back out onto the lanai several minutes later, and she asked, “When are you leaving again?”

He sighed, and she watched the life leave his shoulders. “Monday morning.”

“So we have the weekend.” She looked at him, trying to feel hopeful. “Want to take that cruise tomorrow?”

“You’re not upset?”

“What? Am I going to get upset every time you have to go?” She shrugged. “I don’t want to be upset all the time.”

“There’s just a weird snafu with the label right now,” he said.

“I know,” Riley said. “I’m not upset.” She didn’t want to spend their limited time talking about it either. She just wanted to enjoy him while he was here. “Have you been over to Lucky’s Lagoon?”

“That sounds risqué,” he said, laughing.

“It’s the best snorkeling on the island,” she said, swatting his bicep. “You’re not going to get lucky or anything.”

“Shoot,” he said, his eyes locking onto hers. The same sparks that had always existed between them heated her blood. “Do I get to see the black swimming suit again?”

“Heavens, no,” she said. “I never wear the same swimming suit twice in a row.”

“Oh, a mystery suit then.”

“Do you have swimming trunks?” she asked. “Snorkel gear?”

“Yes, and no.”

“We can rent the gear.” She stood up from the patio table. “So come on. You want to spend the afternoon on the beach with me?”

“Absolutely,” he said, and Riley let him take her into his arms and hold her against his chest. The moment stilled and lengthened, and Riley remembered how wonderful it was to belong to someone else.

Despite not wanting to get her heart shredded, she really did enjoy belonging to someone. There were so few people on this island she truly felt like she belonged with, and he was one of them.

Clearing her throat, she stepped back. “Okay, let me pack a bag and get changed. Then we’ll zip over to your place to get your trunks, and we’ll go.”

***

An hour later, Riley and Evan had the perfect spot on the beach. Not too close to the water, so they weren’t dealing with splashing children. Not too far away that they couldn’t leave their towels to go snorkeling.

Riley had gotten in the water once, just for a few minutes, but really, she wanted to soak up the sun and eat greasy food from the taco stand down the beach a little ways.

When she told her plans to Evan, he didn’t respond. “Hey,” she said, putting her hand on his forearm. “Are you with me?”

“Huh? Yeah,” he said, though his thoughts were clearly somewhere else. He sighed, a long, drawn-out hiss that further testified that he wasn’t fine.

“So tacos?” she asked brightly as if she hadn’t first lost him to his home in Malibu and then his thoughts.

“Yes,” he said, getting up. “Tacos.” He pulled her to her feet too and kept his hand secured in hers. “Charlie’s always telling me about these tacos.”

“Is he?” Riley glanced at Evan. “You haven’t said much about him.”

“We were roommates in college,” Evan said. “He was studying theater, and I did music.” Evan smiled, and the action made him twice as handsome as usual. “We got along great, and I kept trying to recruit him for my band. He’d laugh and say there was no band.” He chuckled. “I guess I showed him.”

Riley giggled too. “I guess you did.”

Evan sobered quickly, and his hand in hers tightened. “I wanted—I wondered if I could talk to you about something.”

“Of course,” Riley said.

“Carl called earlier, and he said TriCities has proposed a solo album.”

Riley absorbed the information, trying not to take too long before she responded. “Wow. A solo album. What…do you want to do a solo album?”

“Not particularly,” he said. “I’d be nowhere without Georgia Panic, and I’ve never wanted to strike out on my own.” He sighed, and it seemed like even the warm sand beneath his feet couldn’t comfort him. “But TriCities doesn’t want to offer the band an album. They said—they told Carl—that solo albums are all they’re doing right now, but they’ll take our songs and maybe group them into an album later.”

“And you’re trying to figure out what to do.”

“Yeah.” He pulled her closer and put her arm around her waist. Riley sure did like walking side-by-side with him, the tropical paradise where they lived so beautiful and tranquil. People paid thousands of dollars to visit Getaway Bay, and she lived here. Experienced it every day.

“What do you think?” he asked.

“Oh, uh, I think you already know what you want to do.”

That sigh again, and Riley liked how conflicted it was. Just because Evan Garfield had a lot of money, a gorgeous voice, and an award that literally made him one of the most sought-after bachelors didn’t mean he didn’t have problems.

First world problems, sure. But problems, just like the rest of humanity.

“Yeah, I can’t do a solo album. I can’t do that to my band, for one. And I have no desire to have a solo album, for two.”

“Then there’s the answer.” She smiled up at him. “Now, let’s see who can eat the most tacos. I think I’m going to beat you.”

Evan tipped his head back and laughed, the sound filling the wide sky above them. Riley liked that she could make him laugh. Liked joking with him and eating far too many tacos just to try to beat him. She didn’t, of course, but that afternoon on the beach was absolute perfection.

The time she got with him made it possible for her to say good-bye to him on Monday morning as she dropped him off at the airport. Once again, he didn’t have a return date, and Riley wasn’t sure when she’d see him again.

So she gripped the collar of his jacket and pulled him down for another kiss. “Good luck in California,” she whispered against his neck, glad he seemed to be holding her as tightly as she gripped him.

And then he was gone. Through the sliding glass doors and surely into the line at security. Then on a plane and flying across the ocean, away from her.

She felt like she was mimicking Evan and his long sighs as she turned around and headed back to her car. Riley told herself she hadn’t given him her heart, but she felt so hollow inside that she was sure she was lying to herself.

***

A week passed, and Riley made it through the evening hours without Evan by working late and going home with Charlotte. She and Dawson were such a happy couple, and they were willing to share their take-out and their back porch that overlooked both bays.

She spoke to Evan often, usually at work during lunch or one of her late nights. They texted a lot. But Riley was back to being lonely, and she hated that feeling more than any other.

On the eleventh day of his absence, he called without texting her first. Riley glanced at her phone and then up and over the counter in front of her desk. Their next client would be arriving in fifteen minutes, but maybe he just had some exciting news.

Like maybe that he was coming home.

Home.

Riley couldn’t believe she thought of Getaway Bay as his home, and she told herself not to think like that.

She realized she was about to miss his phone call, and she quickly swiped open the call and lifted the phone to her ear. “Hey,” she said.

“Riley,” he said. “They just asked Georgia Panic to perform at the Super Bowl!” He laughed in the next moment, the sound bright and filled with joy. Even across the distance between them, Riley experienced some of that same happiness in her own soul.

“That’s great,” she said.

“Thanks,” he said. “We’re all stoked, and we’ve told our agent that if TriCities doesn’t offer us a contract by the end of the week, he can shop us around. I mean, how many people get to play the Super Bowl?”

“Very few, I would imagine,” Riley said, trying to make herself sound excited. “Surely they’ll offer you an album now.”

“They’ve dug their heels in pretty hard,” Evan said. “I don’t know what they’ll do.”

Riley really wanted to ask him when he’d be coming back to Getaway Bay, but she sucked the words back in. Problem was, she didn’t know what else to say. Or what to ask him. Everything revolved around what he was doing in California, or her job, and their conversations felt stale. Overused. Unexciting.

“Okay,” she said when there was a lull in the conversation. She really had no idea what he’d said, and her mind revolved around what her life would be as autumn continued to march forward.

“So you’ll come?” he asked, and Riley’s pulse accelerated.

“When, exactly?” she asked.

“Thanksgiving,” he said. “At my house in Malibu.”

For some reason, tears sprang to her eyes. He wasn’t going to come back to Getaway Bay. She shook her head, first at herself for being so stupid as to think he would. And second, because she didn’t want to talk while so much emotion choked her throat.

“Oh, I have to go,” he said. “I’ll call you back.”

“Mm hm,” she said, pulling the phone away from her ear and hanging up before he could really hear how upset she was. She sniffled and wiped her eyes, her black makeup coming off slightly.

She hated that makeup. Hated the really dark locks falling down to her waist. Hated that she’d let herself fall for Evan Garfield when she’d known—she’d known—he wasn’t going to stay in town.

She’d called her stylist weeks ago, but she’d never set an appointment. Time to do it, she told herself.

Her phone chimed and she looked numbly down at it. Evan had texted. Before she could swipe open the text, the bell on the front door rang, and Riley sprang to her feet to welcome their next client.

The Chief of Police entered, his daughter right beside him. They’d come to everything at Your Tidal Forever together, because the Chief had lost his wife to cancer a few years ago. Riley always smiled when she saw them, their solidarity so refreshing and comforting. They reminded her that she could get through hard things with the support of her family and friends.

She could weather this storm with Evan too.

“Jennifer,” she said, making one more swipe at her eyes to make sure she didn’t have any lingering tears. “So good to see you again.” She moved around the desk and hugged the bride-to-be. “Chief.” She stepped back and shook the man’s hand. “Shannon’s ready for you in her office. I’ll let her know you’re coming back.”

“Thanks, Riley,” the Chief said with a huge smile. Riley picked up the phone and did her job, smiling them down the hall. Then she sat down at her desk and cradled her head in her hands.

Evan had texted, and she checked the message. I’ll be back in a couple of days. Want to celebrate with me?

She did, and she didn’t.

He didn’t say he was coming home. And he’d probably stay for a weekend and go back to California. “That’s not the life I want,” she murmured to herself.

Call me when you can, she typed out, each letter appearing on the screen so slowly. We need to talk.