Reclaiming the Sand
Page 81

Flynn nodded. “The sea takes it away, until there’s nothing left. And the boat puts it back.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” I agreed. Flynn stopped walking and suddenly sat down on the sand. I joined him, followed by Murphy who tried to wiggle his way between us, resting his head on Flynn’s lap.
Flynn placed his hand on Murphy’s large head and stared off into the distance at the machinery still dredging up the sand.
“It’s important to put it back. If they don’t, the beach will disappear,” Flynn said, still watching the sand being reclaimed.
“You’re right,” I said softly, my words floating out on the wind.
We sat huddled together in the cooling air, watching as the boat returned the beach to where it belonged.
I sat there, the waves crashing in their soothing symphony and realized I was like the sea eating away at the beach. I had taken and destroyed heedlessly. I had grabbed Flynn’s sand and carried it away, not caring about the consequences.
And in the process I had washed away and lost myself.
But Flynn had scooped me up and put me back where I belonged. He gave me my beach back.
I wiped away the tears that were suddenly dripping down my face. I sniffled, trying not to draw attention to my blubbering.
Of course Flynn noticed the one time I had counted on his obliviousness.
“You’re crying. Are you sad?” he asked, frowning. He reached out and wiped the tears from my face, rubbing the wetness between his fingers as he tried to work out what was wrong with me.
I scrubbed my face with my hands. “I’m not sad, Flynn. I’m just thankful. Thankful that you came into my life and changed me. I was such a miserable bitch before you came back.” I hung my head in shame.
“Don’t cuss, Ellie,” Flynn scolded.
“Sorry,” I muttered, my lips quirking upwards into a smile.
“But I was. I was horrible. I treated you so badly, Flynn. How were able to forgive me? How can you stand to touch me after everything I’ve done?” I was crying in earnest now. The girl who never shed a tear was sobbing like a baby.
Flynn didn’t put his arm around me. He didn’t comfort me as others would have tried to do. He simply watched me cry with a curious expression on his face. Murphy lifted his nose and nudged my arm as though asking what was wrong.
“Don’t cry. It makes me feel sad. Like I want to cry too,” Flynn said, his face pained.
I tried to stop. I really did. But it was like a dam had broken and years of repressed tears came flooding out.
“I’m so sorry, Flynn. For everything. For calling you names. For being your friend and then taking that friendship away because I was a coward. For not standing up for you when I should have. For not being stronger,” I babbled. I was a snotty mess. I wiped my nose with the back of my hand, disgusted.
Flynn didn’t respond to my apology. He continued to watch me as I cried myself out.
“I know you’re sorry, Ellie,” he said when I had calmed down.
“Huh?” I wasn’t sure I had heard him correctly.
“I know you’re sorry, Ellie. You weren’t very nice to me. You made me feel angry and sad and I cried a lot because of you. But now you make me smile. You laugh and I laugh and we have fun together. You want to be with me and I want to be with you. We belong together,” he said with complete conviction and an emotion I hadn’t heard in his voice before.
“You think we belong together?” I asked weakly.
Flynn nodded, dropping his eyes to his fingers that were tunneling through the sand. If I wasn’t such a mess, I’d be thrilled by this huge step for him. He wasn’t recoiling. He was purposefully touching the beach beneath him.
“You make me feel good, Ellie. I make you laugh. We’re happy together. That’s all that matters.”
And he was right. That was all that mattered. We had each other.
I loved him. He had given me a life I never dreamed I could have. He had given me connection and belonging and acceptance.
He had become my world.
I leaned over and kissed his cheek and he ducked his head bashfully.
“Can we go back to the hotel now? I want to get a shower. I’ve had enough sand,” Flynn stated, getting to his feet, rubbing his hands on his pants as he tried to get rid of the grains sticking to his palms.
“Let’s go,” I said, getting to my feet.
As I walked behind him, letting him lead us back to the stairs where we had left our shoes I knew that I would follow Flynn Hendrick anywhere.
Flynn had gone straight to the bathroom after we returned to the hotel room. I heard the shower turn on and I knew he’d be in there for a while. Flynn was not a quick clean kind of guy.
I had wiped Murphy down with a towel and patted his bed so he wouldn’t jump up on ours. He listened obediently; curling into a ball and promptly began snoring his big, doggie snores.
I opened my tattered suitcase and pulled out a pair of pajama shorts and tank top. I needed to shower. I was feeling pretty gross from the sand and salt. But I had to wait until Flynn deemed himself clean enough to get out.
I thought about him naked and wet only a few feet away and I felt myself flush and my body began to buzz. It had been a long time since I had sex. It wasn’t something I had ever spent a lot of time thinking about.
But now, as I fell deeper and deeper in love with Flynn, I found that I thought about it…all the time.
What I wouldn’t give to open the door and climb into that shower behind him but I knew that was absolutely out of the question.