When the display ends, the magic disappears with it. I feel awkward, standing here with him holding me, not comfortable the way I was moments ago. I clear my throat. 揑 should head back up.?
Crew doesn抰 move or react for a few seconds. When his hands do drop, I experience disappointment, not relief. 揑抣l walk you back up.?
He抯 expecting a you don抰 have to do that. I bite it back and turn so I抦 facing him. 揙kay.?
There抯 no triumph on his face, only excitement. 揕et me grab my shoes from the gazebo.?
揧ou changed,?I state. Like an idiot who blurts out the obvious.
揧eah. Some of the guys wanted to swim earlier.?
揓ust the guys??The clarification is out before I can stop it.
揓ust the guys,?he confirms.
I manage a small, jerky nod. This time, there抯 relief.
揃e right back.?
I watch him spin and walk away, admiring how his shoulders shift as he strides. The way his swim trunks hug his thighs and butt.
It抯 one night. People have one-night stands all the time. I抳e had one-night stands. It doesn抰 have to mean anything. I have another trip to Paris next week. That will force some distance between us. I can do this. I can not care.
Commotion distracts me from the internal pep talk. I squint in the direction of the Kingsleys?gazebo, trying to make out the two figures standing near it. One of them throws a punch and the shape on the receiving end goes down like a parachuting stone.
I react without thinking, running in that direction along with everyone else in the vicinity. The upper class prefers back-stabbing to brawls. If you have a problem with someone, you say it to their face in a sweet tone. You don抰 rearrange it.
And the last thing I抦 expecting when I reach the huddle that抯 formed around the fight is for Crew to be the one standing, sporting red knuckles and a murderous expression. I rush forward, my path unencumbered as soon as everyone realizes who I am. People are scrambling to get out of my way.
揥hat the fuck are you doing??I shout once I reach him, looking between Crew抯 furious face and Camden Crane, who抯 sitting in the sand sporting a split lip.
Blood dribbles from Camden抯 mouth as he begins laughing. 揑 would have said it to your face, Kensington. She must have a棓
Crew lunges forward and hits him again. Camden will have a black eye tomorrow to match his swollen mouth. I make the stupid decision not to walk away and ignore whatever is happening. Anyone else, I would. Instead, I shove Crew抯 chest, feeling the adrenaline and animosity radiating off him. He抯 breathing heavily.
揅rew. What is going on? What are you doing??
He doesn抰 answer either question. Just keeps glaring at the guy on the ground. I look around at the assembled onlookers, trying to read the situation. Obviously Camden said something that pissed Crew off. Badly enough to convince Crew to disfigure his face.
Penelope and Rachel both have hands over their mouths, looking shocked. But it抯 the men that I linger on. They all look cowed梟ervous. Even Andrew Spencer, who I thought considered Crew a friend. None of them will make eye contact with me.
Camden laughs again. He wipes his bottom lip, smearing blood across his chin. 揇idn抰 think you were the type to get your hands dirty.?
揑 thought you were the type who knew when to shut your mouth,?Crew snaps.
揑 just had the balls to say what everyone else here was thinking.?
揟hat true??Crew抯 gaze lifts, roving across the assembled onlookers. Heads shake everywhere. A cruel smile twists Crew抯 lips as he looks back down at Camden. 揟ry me again, Crane. Please. I抎 love to make you completely irrelevant, not just mostly梩he way you are now.?
Once that parting shot has made its mark, Crew turns and strides in the direction of the path that leads back to my parents? After a minute of hesitation, I follow.
My mind is spinning in circles. Based on the whispers and side glances, I had some unintentional involvement in what just took place. I can抰 recall the last time I spoke to Camden Crane. I have no idea what he could have said to set Crew off. I had no idea Crew could get set off by something about me. He was protecting me梔efending me. And I have no idea at all how to process that.
The walk back is dim. My eyes adjusted to the brilliant fireworks and the glow of the bonfire. The weak moonlight is barely enough to pick my way along the boardwalk that weaves between stalks of beach grass. Salty air blows strands of hair across my face. I breathe deeply, trying to center myself.
I thought things between me and Crew would settle naturally. That we would find some routine that allowed us to reap the benefits of this arrangement without compromising our individual goals. But more and more, it抯 feeling like things between us are being permanently decided. The disconnect between us feels like it抯 hardening and callousing. The decisions we抮e both making feel like they抣l matter條ike they抣l define what the rest of our relationship looks like for however long it lasts.