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I can feel myself putting back on the cold, guarded shield that I wear almost daily back in New York. The less time I spend around Meg, the more I feel that side of me return.
When I see strangers giving me odd looks as I pass by them in the hotel, I begin to realize how bad it’s gotten. It isn’t until I catch my reflection in a nearby window that I see the scowl they were staring at.
Did I always look this grumpy and angry before? Am I really that far back into my New York persona now that she’s gone?
I know a person isn’t supposed to “complete” you, but I’m starting to believe that the right person can at the least bring out the best in you. Meg brought out a side of me I never knew existed, and it worries me that I can already see that part disappearing so quickly.
I don’t want to be the grumpy executive who hates his job and just wants to argue about contracts so he can say he won.
I want to be the person Meg fell for again, and I can’t let this buyout get in the way of that. But it absolutely is in the way, and it’s bringing out the worst in me.
Some of the things I admire about Meg are her feisty personality and her deep love for the town. She’s someone who is truly passionate about things she cares about. She doesn’t fake it just to be right.
She means it when she argues in favor of what she wants. It has to be one of the most attractive things about her.
Meanwhile, here I am, fighting for a business deal that my heart’s not in at all. When I try suggesting something new for the inn, Meg counters it with, “You could, but it won’t have the soul of Seaside anymore.”
Every. Single. Time.
And frankly, the more I hear it, the less I’m starting to believe in my family’s plan to buy the place. I know I can close this deal, and I want to stay loyal to my family, but Meg is right in every respect.
“Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” I say, when she clearly pretends like I don’t exist as she’s working.
“The fact that you think you’re buying this place? I absolutely agree.” She smiles mockingly as she folds pool towels.
“I get it, you’re upset with me, I understand. To be honest, I would feel the same way if roles were reversed.”
“Why do I sense a but somewhere in there?” Meg retorts.
“But I think those same feelings of attraction for me are still lying there just under the surface of your pissed-off exterior,” I say.
“Really? I don’t think so.” She denies it too quickly, and that only confirms my suspicions.
“Then why do I catch you looking at me when you think I’m not paying attention?” I lean in closer to her. Her eyes widen like she’s been caught raiding the cookie jar. “Oh yeah, don’t think I haven’t noticed you stealing glances at me through the big mirror in the lobby or walking by the pool during your breaks.”
“It sounds like you’re the one watching me, not the other way around,” she counters. “And if you don’t want the attention, maybe you should keep your shirt on.”
I gasp dramatically. “Were you admiring me? I can’t believe it. Did you like what you saw?” I tease her.
She huffs in frustration. “You’re not the only good-looking guest here.”
“I’m the only good-looking single one who knows your favorite ice cream flavor is orange sherbet, who knows that you cry at the emotional part of movies you’ve seen a hundred times, and who knows that you can’t stand it when people mix candy into their popcorn at the movies.”
“Is that supposed to impress me?” She crosses her arms. “Your whole job here was to collect info on the inn. A couple of facts about me probably got mixed in with your notes. Big deal.”
“If I didn’t give a damn about the things that make you you, why would I bother keeping track of things any other guy would forget from the first date?” I counter.
Finally, she’s speechless. I wait for the counter-argument, for the witty jab that puts me right back at square one again, but it doesn’t come. Instead, she just stands there with a conflicted look on her face before focusing on folding her towels again.
“I think we’re both in a crap situation that neither of us want to be in but we still feel that same connection that was there two days ago,” I reply.
“If you can honestly look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel a single thing for me other than anger, then I will leave you alone and never speak a word to you again.”
For a second, my heart feels like it’s going to explode when she starts to open her mouth, but she stops herself just as quickly. Her eyes are hard when they meet mine but soon soften, revealing the same girl I kissed on the beach.
The same girl who made me laugh and smile so much that my face was sore by the end of the day. She’s the same girl who made me someone I don’t hate.
“You can’t say it, can you?” I whisper.
