Page 55 of Beautiful Place By the Sea

He nods quickly. “When I was 17, my dad slipped fixing our roof and fell.”

I gasp. “Off the roof?”

“Yep. I’d asked him to let me spot him, but he insisted I work on my college applications.” He glares bitterly into memories of the past. “He’s lucky he wasn’t paralyzed. Or killed.” He sighs deeply. “He managed to walk away with a thoracic spine fracture and several herniated discs, but it’s made lobstering impossible for him. He’s been on disability ever since.”

Realization hits, and I say softly, “So you never left.”

Oliver blinks twice, and his eyes look a little glassy. “I never left.”

The song ends, but we’re still standing there, holding onto each other.

I clear my throat. “Did you get to go to college?”

“It didn’t feel fiscally responsible,” he says quietly, “but my dad insisted I apply anyway. I did manage to get a scholarship to the University of New England, so I commuted there and got my degree. Things were really hard. I started working for Maisie shortly after the accident while we were waiting on the disability payments to start, and I kept that up all through school.” He smiles slightly. “And Maisie’s just so sweet, you know? So I never left.”

I return his smile. “She is indeed very sweet.”

“My degree is in English,” he says, “which was fairly ill-advised. But I pick up freelance writing assignments whenever I can, and between that and the bookstore, it’s been enough to pay the bills.”

“Because you’re so talented?” I joke.

He smirks. “Something like that.”

Suddenly acutely aware that I’m still tangled up in him, I blush. “Anyway,” I mumble, dropping his hand and stepping back, “thank you for helping me avoid that guy.” I gesture to the right with my head.

“Anytime,” Oliver says in a low voice, his hand slipping off the small of my back while his gaze slides down my face and catches on my lips.

I feel my breath shudder in my throat. “Should we go find Laurel and her boat-shoed gentleman friend?”

Oliver cracks a grin. “I’m on board with that plan.”

“So many boat puns.” I roll my eyes at him. “Let’s go.” I grab his hand and pull him off the dance floor.

fourteen

“So, I think I’m going to leave with Porter,” Laurel whispers in my ear a few minutes later.

“On principle, I feel like I have to stop you from leaving with a man named Porter,” I murmur back, hiding my mouth with a hand so no one else can pick up what I’m saying.

She snorts. “He’s really sweet. He actually lives in Brookline now, so there’s a chance we could go out after we get home, too.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself a little bit?”

“I guess I’m just excited to meet someone cute,” Laurel pouts. “It’s been a really long time.”

“I know what that’s like,” I say wistfully.

“Shit. Sorry,” she replies. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay.” I pat her on the shoulder. “You should definitely go home with Porter. And also text me immediately when you get there, and before you go to sleep, so I don’t have to stay up worrying about you.”

“You sure?” She looks concerned with the notion of leaving my dowagered ass alone in this antiquated club.

“It’s fine.” I shrug. “I’ll make Oliver walk me home.”

“Hey,” Laurel nudges me with a grin. “I saw you guys dancing.” Her eyes twinkle mischievously. “Something brewing there?”

“Oh, God no,” I shake my head vehemently. “He was just helping me deter an interested weirdo.”