9th February

Dallas swears living sea side will give her a longer life. The calm keeps her heart rate low, the salt water has healing properties, the air isn't polluted with toxins and chemicals. She might be right, there's something nice about laying in bed with the window open while the waves crash outside.

Call me a coward, but I can't seem to get up and face Gabrielle. I know she's up. I heard her and Lydia giggling this morning, through the wall.

Living sea side might be good for the health, but living with that laughter is the only healing I'd ever need.

I want to be loved without begging for it.

My gut rolls, nausea heaving me onto my side so hard I think I might actually throw up on the carpet. All she wants is someone to give her the love she deserves, without asking for it, without her having to bend over backwards to earn it.

She has no idea how far from the truth that is. How lovable she is without even trying.

Her excitement and that contagious euphoria she gets for other people's happiness is beautiful, so beautiful I wish I could see more of it. I want to give her reasons to smile like the world was made just for her. Like her name is inscribed on all of the greatest things life has to offer.

Checking the time on my phone, I wince at the fact it's almost ten in the morning. Before I get the chance to flick the comforter back, the door swings open and Dallas stands there holding her hand over her face.

"You decent?" She snaps. "Answer fast."

"Yeah, what the hell—"

She drops her hand and gives me the nastiest glare I've seen since I grounded her for spending one hundred and thirty bucks of my money on a pair of dance shorts. Absolute madness.

With her withering focus locked on me, she swings the door shut and I sit up, slow. I have a feeling I know what this is about.

"You've always been a bit of a man slut," she seethes. "But having a go at Gabs?! While she's getting over her ex?!"

"Dal—"

"Pig."

I run a hand through my hair and get out of bed. "I haven't slept with her."

"Nathan," she paces back and forth, tugging on her hair. "She's vulnerable right now. I thought I could trust that you wouldn't be like that towards her. I mean, it's Gabby. You've known her forever. She's—"

"What did she tell you?" I ask, grabbing a t-shirt from the love seat in the corner beside the window. The curtains flare from the breeze coming in. "Did she say I made a move? Or like, insinuate I made her uncomfortable?"

It didn't seem like something Gabrielle would do, she was always finding a way to blame herself for shit. But the last thing I ever wanted to do was make her feel uncomfortable with all the dirty things I whisper in her ear.

"No. She said she started feeling things for you from the moment she moved in and she was finding it hard to keep her hands to herself."

Bit of an ego inflate that I don't deserve.

"I never put it past her to have a crush on you. She's a sucker for a good looking man. I just thought you'd have more sense than to give into it. You took advantage of her."

"Dallas," I slip the t-shirt on and huff out a breath. "It's not about her being a sucker for a good looking dude. Or me taking advantage of her. It's about the fact that I feel like I can't breathe when I look at her. When she smiles or laughs, hell when the breeze carries her scent, I lose my mind a little bit. We're both doing our best to fight what we feel, Dallas. Give me a fucking break."

Her mouth parts, shock widening her stare. "Do you lo—"

"Don't get involved. For once, just don't get involved."

I walk past her and feel bad for the asshole tone. My feelings are complicated enough without her asking me impossible questions and giving me her opinion.

I know why Gabrielle told her about us. To ease her conscience. That's her best friend after all, I don't blame her. I told Gabrielle that I wouldn't come between her and Dallas and I meant it.

At the bottom of the floating staircase, I step into the living room and look through the big floor to ceiling roll away windows. Drayton and Lydia are outside building sand castles. Gabrielle is watching them from the sofa, her back to me. She'd have to know I'm here though, my footsteps aren't light.

Circling the sofa, I lower into it beside her, close enough to her that our thighs press. She's cradling a mug, wearing a fitted long sleeve and wide loose cotton pants that hug her at the waist.

"Sorry," she whispers, staring at her hot coffee, the steam kisses her skin.

Exhaling, I feel bitter at another apology coming from her mouth. It's obvious she was with someone who gas lit the fuck out of her. Made her feel like she was in the wrong all the time. Josh got a point closer to getting his head fucking caved in whenever I saw the evidence of his damage all over this sweet woman.

"Don't," I grit out. "Don't apologize."

"I just— I felt bad keeping it—"

"Gabrielle," I cup her chin and force her to look at me. "Don't. I don't control what you tell her. I'm not going to make you feel bad for choosing to be honest."'

We held contact for a heart beat longer and then she dropped her gaze and pulled her face back from my grasp.

"Dallas," I shout, even though I know she's somewhere close listening. Her footsteps come from the bottom of the stair case a moment later.

"Yeah?"

I look up at her as she comes around and stands in front us, her gaze doing a quick flicker at how close we sit. "You and Drayton want to have Lydia for the afternoon?"

Both of the girls look at me, confused.

"Of course," Dallas slowly nods. "We love having her, but Gab—"

"Is coming with me for the afternoon," I announce, giving Gabrielle's leg a light slap as I stand up. "Come on. We're going out. I'll have a quick shower. Be ready in ten."

Winking at her shocked expression, I head up stairs. I'm sure once I'm gone they'll have a little gossip, Dallas might try to convince Gabrielle not to go with me and while I wouldn't push it if she decided not to, I hope like hell she does.

It's about time Gabrielle got to do something fun without me trying to stick my tongue down her throat every five minutes.

When I come out of the shower, a t-shirt and shorts on, Drayton is leaning on the other side of the door, his back against the wall. I shouldn't be surprised that he's next in line for a lecture. He looks from left to right, as if he's scanning the hall and then when he talks to me, he leans his torso forward and whispers.

"If Dallas asks, I'm as disgraced about this Gabs things as she is. To be honest, I couldn't care less."

I'm a little surprised. Not because he does whatever Dallas tells him to, although, he does. But because he cares about Gabrielle and Lydia a lot and I was sure he'd be pissed for the same reasons my sister is.

He chuckles, slapping me on the shoulder. "Lydia couldn't stop going on about all the cool shit she does with you. Reckons you're one of her best friends. Anyone that can make her that happy is good with me. Can't replace me though. Don't get too excited."

Something inside of me liquefies and wraps itself around my heart. She said that?

"You'd be a good step dad," Drayton slides his hands into his pockets and starts to wander off to the stair case before I've had a chance to get one word in. Before he disappears, he looks back at me and points. "Don't hurt her though. Dallas won't be too impressed if I have to break her brother's fingers."

Yeah, he's not kidding either.

Gabrielle and I borrow Dallas' jeep and drive to the pier. Palm trees rise high on either side of the pier, store fronts on one side, the beach on the other. It's crowded but it's a hell of a lot worse between May and August.

The weather is ideal, the sun is out, the breeze isn't too cool. Don't think I'd swim but the waves look beautiful and glittering.

Gabrielle hasn't said much since we got in the car, and when I park it and we step out, she gives me a soft uncertain smile.

"What's the matter?" I ask.

Her hair is up in a high bun, loose strands frame her face and curls fall out of the elastic she's using. She takes my fucking breath away with her sharp features and sensual stare. Her shoulders lift in a shrug as we start walking down the pier.

"I'm just sort of confused on what we're doing."

"We're hanging out."

"Is this like, a date?"

Part of me wants it to be, the other part is trying to create some fun for her without it meaning anything else.

"If it is a date," I say. "It doesn't have any expectations attached. I just want to do something fun for you."

She's quiet for a little while, the sea salt scented breeze ruffling her loose strands of hair. Finally, she peers up at me. "What are we doing for fun then?"

We start with some brunch. I haven't eaten and Gabrielle mentions she's hungry. There's a spot called Good Stuff that has seating right on the beach, waffles and mimosas. Gabrielle sits across from me in an outdoor, rustic wooden booth seat. She shovels cubes of watermelon into her mouth and shuffles in her seat, watching the views.

There's a game of volleyball happening just across the path on the sand, it's a group of women in bikinis. It looks like some serious skill is involved with the speed and strength the ball is hurling across the net. Gabrielle blows out a breath and pops another watermelon in between her lips.

"Imagine looking that hot in a bikini."

I swore I wouldn't hit on her at all today but I can't let her talk like that.

"I've seen you in a bra and underwear, Gabrielle," I lift my black tea and drain the rest of it. "Trust me, you look that hot."

Better, in my opinion. I won't voice that though. I once made some comment comparing one girl in a commercial to another. I barely remember the conversation now but Gabrielle almost ripped me a new one.

There's room for all of us to be beautiful, Nathan.

My lips lift in a smile remembering that. She's so fierce and positive and sweet. When I look up from my empty cup, she's watching me with that same look of awe she gets whenever I give her a compliment or show her kindness. It's bitter sweet because I'm glad it touches her, but it shouldn't be that shocking to hear.

"You always seem surprised to hear that you're beautiful," I start piling the empty dishes into a stack.

Gabrielle spins the little bangle on her wrist and shrugs. For a while she looks like she wants to say something but she must decide not to and leans back in the booth seat, rubbing her stomach.

"I'm so full now."

"Good thing we're about to walk it off," I wave the waitress down and once I've paid for brunch and tipped, Gabrielle and I head off down the pier.

On our walk, we stop and listen to some of the musicians who are singing, strumming guitars, playing keyboards. We throw some cash into their cases.

There's a dozen dogs who want pats and scratches. Gabrielle sits on the warm concrete for a good fifteen minutes doting on a golden retriever while I chat with the dude walking it.

We pass a shack handing out roller skate rentals and I convince Gabrielle to roller skate with me. I know how hot she's going to look with her long bronze legs gliding beside me.

After we're strapped in, I stand up and take her hand. Her fingers slip between mine and we share a brief look, one that tells me her nerves are ablaze with mine.

Pushing down the pier, the wind blows around us, the sun kisses our skin and Gabrielle's laughter floats on the breeze. The perfect soundtrack to our fun. And I am having fun. I'm having fun because when I look at Gabrielle, her head tipped up toward the sky, her cheeks glowing, I feel like I'm floating on her spirit, her energy.

"I need to get a pair of these for Lydia," Gabrielle says. "I feel like she'd love this."

"We should get her a pair just in time for summer break."

Gabrielle looks at me and I swallow, staring straight ahead because I heard how that sounded. We. There's not a we when it comes to Lydia and I need to remember that. Gabrielle doesn't let it halt our fun, she goes on lapping up the euphoria and pretending I didn't say a damn thing.

After we're done skating, we weave in and out of some of the local boutiques. Gabrielle fawns over the hand painted surf boards and wooden crafted wind chimes. She looks adorable when she tries on the big sun hats and heart shaped glasses.

I get her a little flip flop air freshener for her car because she thought it was cute. She surprises me outside of the same store and hands me a cap with HERMOSA across the front. I slip it on backwards.

After we have a late lunch of burgers, we end up at a little second hand book store. Outside are boxes and shelves of books, all under one dollar. Gabrielle slips her glasses onto her head, her smile wide as she looks at where we are.

"I love this place."

"Oh. You've been here?"

"Of course," she flicks through the titles, her fingers dancing on the spines. "Dallas brought me here when I first visited."

Bitch, stole my romantic gesture. "Like minded, I guess."

Gabrielle's grin has been growing since we arrived at the pier, her enthusiasm elevating. As she walks past me to go inside, she gifts me with a big smile and caresses my bicep. It's fast, fleeting, a simple gesture of thanks, but I'm still tingling like a hormonal little shit.

Book shopping is no joke. Gabrielle doesn't skim when she shops, she walks down the aisles slow, her hand always raised to the shelf, touching each book as she goes, as if the right story will send a zap through her bloodstream.

The store smells musty, not bad, just old. The shelves are tall, there are quotes painted on the walls, random arm chairs scattered around the place. I consider sitting in one but I don't want Gabrielle to feel like I'm bored. Not when I can tell she's having a good time. I notice her arms are getting full and I figure that's one way to make myself useful.

"Let me hold those," I hold out my arms and she starts stacking them up.

"Thanks."

The book on the top of the pile is called People We Meet on Vacation.

"I've read that one kindle," Gabrielle notices me looking at the cover. "It was super cute. If I love a book enough, I like to get the paperback."

"That seems reasonable," we keep moving down the aisle and make room for another woman and her daughter to slip past. "You're big into the romance ones?"

She nods and then quietly gasps. "It's the prettiest edition of Pride and Prejudice I've ever seen."

The book she's holding has a blue and white cover, it's elegant and thick. She opens it to find sheer sleeves throughout the pages, inside are hand written letters. She's practically vibrating with excitement.

"You into those classics?"

"Hmm, see," she closes the book and twists on her heel, placing it on the top of the pile I'm holding. "I love Jane Austen because she was ahead of her time but I'm not a fanatic that's read every single book written in the 1800s. Plus I feel like some of those authors tried super hard to hone feminism but ended up missing the mark. And I hate the whole stigma around readers and the classics."

I follow her around the corner and into a new aisle, the labels on the shelves read 'erotica'. "Stigma?"

"Yeah, like, I could've read a thousand books but if you've never read Jane or Emily or Charlotte, you're not a real book lover. That's so stuck up. People read, to read. Who cares if it's classic or not. You know?"

I think I'd agree with whatever she said just because I like how her voice gets stronger when she's passionate. "I get that. I suppose it'd be like telling someone they aren't a real sport fan if they don't know all of the players by name and their individual stats."

She picks up a book and smiles at me over her shoulder. "Is that a flex because you probably do know every football star by name and their stats?"

"I wouldn't knock someone for not knowing."

She giggles and slips another book on top of the pile, the cover has a shirtless dude with a girl in lingerie sitting on top of him. I already know she's into those hot sex books. I'll never forget the one she read out loud to me.

We shop a while longer, she gets some books for Lydia even though she knows they won't get read and then, with a tote bag over her shoulder, we head over to the beach and get an ice cream.

We sit beside each other in the sand while the sun sets. We've spent the entire day here and somehow it doesn't feel like it's been long enough. Dusk orange hues glow in her brown gaze and the warmth of the day disappearing warms her skin.

Gabrielle's tote bag sits open on the sand, grains glittering the canvas material. I've finished my ice cream so I lean over and slide one of the books out. It's the same one I looked at earlier. People We Meet on Vacation. I start leafing through it. Gabrielle spent half her time earlier sniffing the pages. I guess that book smell isn't bad.

I stop on a random page, scan the words and start reading out loud, "That crush of happiness, that feeling that this is what life's about: being somewhere beautiful, with someone you-" my voice fades off- "love."

I feel like I've been punched in the stomach, because is there any other way to describe how I've felt today?

Gabrielle leans her head on my shoulder. "Start from the start," she whispers, her hair smells like spice and the sea. "Read it to me."

Scooting backwards, I move one leg around Gabrielle and come closer again so she's nestled between my thighs, her back against my chest. Neither of us comment on it, she doesn't seem tense, she just relaxes into me while the sun sets in front of us and I start reading to her.