Page 20 of Hooked on Love

The problem isn’t that I don’t want her. The problem is the opposite. The problem is that I’ve been thinking about her since the second I walked into that bathroom and saw her in that mirror and couldn’t look away. The problem is dinner on the couch, the walk to work, and the way she laughs like she forgot she was allowed to. The problem is now I know what it feels like to hold her while she falls apart in my arms. And I’d burn the whole marina down to feel it again.

I also know exactly how this ends.

You’ll never be enough, Jake. Not for a real life. Not for someone who wants a future.

Meghan’s voice flickers awake in the depths of my subconscious. Four years gone and still living rent-free in my skull like a cockroach I can’t kill.

I was twenty-three. She was twenty-two. We’d been together since junior year of high school and I thought that meant something. I thought it meant we were different, solid, the kind that lasts. But she wanted the white picket fence, a career, a man with a 401k and a five-year plan.

And I wanted the water.

I can’t keep waiting for you to grow up, she said the last night. Standing in the doorway of the boathouse we’d shared for two years, her bags already packed, her mind already somewhere I couldn’t follow. You’re going to be broke and alone on that boat forever, and I won’t let you drag me under with you.

I didn’t argue. Didn’t beg. I stood there while she walked out and told myself it was for the best. That she was wrong. That the boat would be enough.

Some nights I almost believe it.

I shift on the couch and my back protests violently. Four hours of lying here and I’ve got nothing to show for it except a growing list of reasons why Peyton deserves better than me. And a deepening conviction that stopping her last night was the only decent thing I’ve done since I walked through her front door uninvited.

She’s starting over. Fresh city, new job, grieving her mother alone. The last thing she needs is a broken charter captain with a cracked engine block and a divorce under his belt cluttering up her fresh start.

I’m doing her a favor, I repeat until I almost mean it.

Her alarm goes off at six. I hear it through the wall, that same upbeat melody, cutting off after a few seconds. Then the quiet movements of her getting ready, sounds I’ve already learned the rhythm of without meaning to.

I keep my eyes closed and my breathing even when she comes down the hall.

I don’t know why. Pride, maybe, or cowardice. Or just not being able to look her in the eye after last night.

She pauses near the couch. I feel the slight hesitation in her step, a breath held a beat too long, like she’s deciding something. Then her shoes are at the door, it opens and closes softly with a click, and then she’s gone.

I’m at the marina by seven-thirty.

I work until my hands ache and my back gives me no choice but to stop. Replacing gaskets, cleaning out the cooling system, cataloging the parts still on order. Knot Working is coming back together slowly, bone by bone, and normally that would be enough. Normally the work would quiet everything else.

Today, it doesn’t touch it.

Luke shows up around noon with lunch and takes one look at me before he says, “What happened?”

“Engine work,” I say, not looking up. I toss down the wrench with a clang.

His brow furrows, but he doesn’t press me further. He sits on the dock edge and hands me a sandwich. We eat in silence for a while, gulls circling overhead. A fellow charter boat pulls out of the far slip, headed toward open water, and I watch it go with a familiar ache.

“She’s different,” I say finally, because apparently, I can’t help myself.

Luke doesn’t say anything.

“She’s not—” I stop, take a deep breath, then start over with a weighted shake of my head. “I keep trying to talk myself out of it.”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

He nods slowly.

“Her mom died six months ago. She moved here alone for a job, she doesn’t know anyone.” I stare out at the open water, the sun glimmering off the calm seas. “She’s just starting to come back to herself. I’ve been there, and I don’t want to be the thing that sets her back.”

Luke is quiet for a moment. “Does she get a vote?”