Summer Sunsets by Maria Rachel Hooley Read Free Book Online Page A

not
anymore.
    More than once, Skye’s
fingers fumble, and she drops things I bend to retrieve. Her face
is flushed, and I can tell the gears in there are spinning on
overtime. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know where her
thoughts are—they’re with the elephant both of us are pretending we
can’t see.
    “ You okay?” I ask softly,
staring at her, even though the sun is in my eyes, casting a golden
halo of light around her head.
    “ Yeah,” she says carefully,
unwilling to look into my eyes. “Why?”
    “ How long have I known you,
Skye?”
    She doesn’t say anything as
we carry our stuff back to the house. Her gaze is fixed ahead, and
even though I could try to force her to talk, it wouldn’t do any
good, at least not until we get inside the house. So I don’t push.
I take the poles, set the hooks to the eyelets, and set them on the
porch before we slip into the house, where I unload my arms of the
tackle box and folding chair. Skye follows my lead. Once
unencumbered, she steps to the window and peers out at the beach,
her gaze drifting in the direction from which we’ve come as though
she’s still looking for the two teenagers we left
behind.
    Frowning, I step up behind
her and linger there, wondering if she senses me. “So what’s up,
Skye?”
    She lifts a hand and
touches the back of her neck, trying to ease the kinks there.
Without asking, I lift my hand and my fingers join hers, trying to
help. At the feel of my hand, she stiffens at first but gradually
relaxes as though accepting it’s just me. She knows that no matter
what, I wouldn’t hurt her for the world.
    “ Skye?” I prompt, hoping
she’ll open up.
    “ I was wondering if that was
what happened when I….” Her voice dies, and I know she can’t say
it. It’s been years, and she can’t. That’s part of the problem with
choices.
Sometimes they leave you speechless years after the event, and no
matter what you try to do to make things easier, some choices never
ease into manageable things.
    I move my hand to her
shoulder and slowly turn her to face me. Her eyes are wide, her
lips parted, and the weight of the world seems to hang on me. I
have trouble speaking because I don’t want to hurt her, but with
that question, I’m not sure there’s a way around it. “Something
like that,” I manage. There’s no way to relay what those minutes
felt like when I didn’t know if she were going to live or die. How
could anyone explain that with words?
    Sometimes there’s only the
sound of breath, the stutter of the heart, and the spin of the
clock’s hands. It’s the rush of emotions, the panic of knowing the
wrong things, and the emptiness of never having the right
ones.
    She frowns. “I’ve tried to
recreate those moments I put you through hell because I figured it
was only fair, but I just couldn’t see it. Until today. You jumped
into the water for a stranger because you knew there was no one
else, and when you thought you were losing her, I could see the
pain on your face. But that was nothing compared to what I caused,
was it?”
    “ It doesn’t matter, Skye.
The only thing that matters is you’re here. That’s all I care
about. That’s all I’ve ever cared about.” Although she struggles
for me not to embrace her, I don’t give her a chance to argue with
my arms. She’s in them, right where she belongs. Maybe it won’t
heal the past for either of us, but I believe that, given time, it
will be enough.

Chapter Six
    The week seems to fly, but
I know that’s just because I don’t want it to end. I never want it
to end because of Skye, especially since we’ll both be driving back
to West Martin, Illinois, back to the town that seemed to tear us
apart in the first place. I know she’ll be glad to see her mom and
Warren, but I also know part of her won’t be able to forget the
past. I see it rising in her eyes when she gives me that distant
look. She’s been freer here, less guarded, but I sense all of that
is