I’m awake. She’s doesn’t know it because I’m greedy and don’t want to move away from her. She woke up a few minutes ago, but I lie here with my eyes closed, arm around her, legs tangled with hers. It feels too good to disrupt, so I don’t.

I wonder how she’s feeling after last night. A thousand questions start to rack my brain, and now I fear that I’ll never get that again. So for now, I pretend to sleep.

“Night night over,” I hear Bailey’s voice declare, and I know the pretending is done.

“It’s not over, Bailey,” I mumble, just wanting a few more minutes with Candace. I feel her shift, but I keep my eyes shut, and I know I’m busted. I don’t care though.

“I eat bweakfast. Night night over.”

“Okay,” Candace whispers and begins to slip out from my hold, but I tighten my arm around her and pull her back to me.

“Where are you going?” I ask, finally opening my eyes.

“To go get her something to eat.”

She slides out of the blankets, and I can only hope that I’ll be able to get her in my sheets again. That I can continue to have her like I did last night.

I roll over and watch as she settles Bailey with a bowl of cereal. Getting up, I make my way into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee while Candace busies herself with Bailey, peeling a banana for her.

“Want some?” I ask as she walks back into the kitchen.

She keeps her eyes down and gives me a nod. Fuck. She doesn’t want to look at me. She’s embarrassed. Nervous. Not what I was wanting.

“Umm, I’m gonna sneak upstairs and get cleaned up,” she says as I rip open a packet of sugar for her coffee.

After I stir in the cream, I hand the mug to her, and she finally meets my eyes. Timid. She quietly thanks me and stands there for a moment, staring at the steam floating off of the coffee. I’m scared to know what she’s thinking so intently about, but I ask anyway.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just want to get ready before everyone wakes up.”

“Okay.”

I know she just really needs to get space from me, and I have no choice but to accept it as I watch her head upstairs to my room.

I wander over and sit down next to Bailey at the table as she smacks on her cereal. Nursing my cup of coffee, I decide that I’m not gonna let her shut down. I don’t want her feeling uncomfortable, so I’ll get her out of the house and take her to one of my favorite places. I need to talk with her. Be honest. Let her know where how I’m feeling because if I don’t, then she’s just gonna continue to feel awkward for the next couple of days that we’re here. I try to not think about what she’s going to say. None of this is in my control and not having that power is unsettling.

Looking up, I see Tori walking in.

“What are you guys doing up?” she asks as she pulls down a mug.

“Your little rugrat was hungry and snuck downstairs,” I tell her as I give Bailey a wink before I stand up. “I’m gonna go get ready.”

When I walk upstairs, Maddie is still asleep, and I can hear the shower running as I grab some clothes out of the dresser and closet and then go to one of the downstairs guest bathrooms to shower.

She still isn’t downstairs when I’m ready. I pass by the kitchen, which is loud as everyone is making breakfast and visiting. When I spot Maddie, I decide to go up and check on Candace.

The bathroom door is closed and the smell of her shower fills the room, intoxicating me, making this more agonizing. But I suck it up because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable with how strongly I’m feeling about all of this.

When I knock on the door, she says, “Come in.”

She stands there in a pair of jeans and one of her college sweatshirts, hair stacked on top of her head, applying her lipgloss. I slide up next to her, leaning back against the counter, and watch. Grab her. Touch her. Kiss her. I shake my scrambling thoughts as she tosses her things into her small bag, and avoids acknowledging me. But when she moves to walk past me, I grab her by the waist and pull her to me, asking, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Really,” she lies, shutting me out.

Looking at her, watching that tick of her brow, I ask, “You wanna get out of here for a while?”

She doesn’t miss a second when she nods her head. Relief. She doesn’t want to stay away from me.

I slide my hand down her wrist and hold her hand, but this time, I lace my fingers with hers, holding her differently—needing to—and head out.

It’s rainy this morning as I drive through the narrow, winding road in Ecola Park. I’ve always loved this area, dense with lush, tall trees and deep cliffs. I try to focus on the surroundings, but I can’t escape my nerves. This is all new to me. I’ve never done this before, and I don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna say. All I know is that I want her.

I park the jeep and grab one of my raincoats from the back seat for her to put on.

“Here, wear this,” I tell her as she takes it from me, and starts slipping it on.

We get out, and I hold her hand again as I walk her down the old wooden stairs that lead down to Indian Beach. The wind is hitting hard as it mixes with the rain. It’s cold, but I love this type of weather. Walking along the packed, wet sand of the beach, I hold on to her as we step over the piles of smooth, black rocks to some logs of driftwood that sit back from the water. We sit down on one of the logs, and I watch Candace as she takes in the view. She has the hood popped up over her head. I like seeing her in my clothes, even if it’s an oversized raincoat.

I wrap my arm around her, and when I do, she speaks.

“This is amazing.”

“Yeah, I love it out here. I used to surf here a lot growing up.”

She looks out at the hard-hitting waves, her cheeks already pink from the chill. My heart is racing, and I know it won’t stop until I talk to her.

“Candace,” I say as I turn, kicking my leg over the log to face her straight on. “What’s bothering you? And don’t say ‘nothing’ because I know something is.”

She looks away, back out at the water. Her hands fidget, and I know she’s deep in her head, but I need her here with me.

“Candace,” I urge, bringing her focus back.

She faces me, brows pinched together, worried. “I just don’t really know what we’re doing.”

“Tell me what you want.” Tell me that’s it me. That you want me. So I don’t have to keep pretending.

“I’m not good at this stuff, Ryan.”

Neither am I.

“Come here,” I say as I grab her leg and move her to face me.

Time to get honest.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since the night of the concert,” I confess. “I don’t know where your head is at, but whenever I’m not with you, I want to be.”

I watch as she drops her eyes. Shy.

“Talk to me, babe.” Tell me you feel it too.

“I just . . .” she starts, trying to find her words and settling back on, “I don’t do this well.”

“Do what?”

“This . . .”

I can’t take her shyness, so I hold her head in my hands, angling her to look at me when I finally admit, “Whatever this is, I want it. I just need to know if you do.”

My tone is intent because I know what I want here. Her eyes don’t move from mine, and I wait for her response. For anything. I put it out there, and now my heart is racing with nerves, uncertain of her response. Then finally, she gives it to me, and I wanna fuckin’ cling to her when she nods her head yes.

Keeping my hands on her, I guide her to me and kiss her. I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want her, and when she slides her arms under my coat and around my waist, my heart finally starts to settle. I have her.

Her lips are cold and wet with rain, and I squeeze her to me. I move slowly because the thought of rushing anything with her, to quicken the pace of her touch, would be stupid. So I take my time as I graze my tongue along her soft lips, and when she relaxes, allowing me to take more, I pass her lips and taste the warmth of her mouth.