Someone Else's Ocean(68)



“All of it’s ridiculous and cruelly unnatural for a realist.”

“That’s, uh, sad, Ian, if that’s your outlook, and horribly put by someone who claims to be an educator. It’s a good thing you don’t teach philosophy, professor.”

Ignoring my comment, he struggled with his sneakers as he began to undress.

“Free will is a bitch, puffer fish, and half the time it’s got both signals on which can only confuse you further.”

“Ah, the ponderings of a drunken sailor.”

“Marine,” he said, looking up at me pointedly, “and don’t you forget it.”

“Right.”

He ripped off his shirt and glared at me. “You aren’t taking me seriously.”

“Oh, I’m listening.”

“Good, you should.”

“I was taught young to listen to my elders.”

“Cute, that’s the second time you’ve made fun of my age. I’ll be reddening your ass for that.”

“I look forward to it.”

“So, I’m finally free to be a little selfish and I intend on enjoying every moment of it.”

“Haven’t we already had this conversation? I’m on your side and kudos to you.”

“Look, I know this,” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’ve been through this before, so I know this mystery, the need, the goddamn ache in my chest.”

“Ian—”

He slowly raised his head, his glossy eyes boring into mine. “You’re so beautiful.” It sounded agonizing coming from his lips as if it were a burden for him.

“So are you.” The irony was his beauty was just as much of a burden for me.

“I’m smashed, Koti.”

“I’ve gathered that.”

“You really are the most…” his voice turned hoarse, “what’s inside of you is a heart that is dying to live, and your head is too afraid to let you do it fully, the way you deserve. It’s the most tragic thing I’ve ever seen. You’re a prisoner of your own making.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said, crossing my arms despite my ache to touch him.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Good to know.”

“But what your mind won’t let you understand is you can’t control a single fucking thing. Control is an illusion and all your home remedies for coping aren’t ever going to change that.”

“I’m aware. This isn’t news, Ian. In fact, it’s redundant, and it changes nothing.”

“Exactly, because anxiety stems from emotion, it doesn’t listen to reason.”

He wasn’t saying it for me, to help me understand, he was explaining it to himself, so he could understand me.

“What’s your point?”

He laid down and threw his arm over his face. “The point is—I don’t believe in miracles, but I’m falling for mine.”

And with that, he passed out cold.

I stood stunned as I watched his breathing. Never had I thought he was capable of feeling for me the way I did for him. But I had to remember they were the ramblings of a drunk and confused man. Even so, his confession filled me with a warmth that I didn’t expect.

I took off his other sneaker and once I was sure he was comfortable, made my way to the kitchen. Julian was closing the fridge door with a water in hand. “Advil and a bottle of water before bed and you’ll never have a hangover.” He grinned, and I returned it.

“Have fun today?”

“Too much. I love the Virgin Islands, you’re lucky to live here.”

“Jasmine told me you live in Iowa.”

“Yeah, I run a farm with my dad. He’s getting ready to retire.”

“Do you like it?”

“Love it, wouldn’t dream of living anyplace else. I’ve seen the world and I like my version best. But yours doesn’t suck. Want me to grab you something?”

“I’ll take a water.” Sitting on the other side of the island, I thanked him when he passed me the bottle and took a long drink.

“Ian got drunk early, try not to hold it against him.”

“Does he always get so philosophical when he drinks?”

“Only when he’s got something to think about. Today I’m thinking it was you?”

My cheeks heated slightly, but Julian was easy to talk to and far from hard to look at. He was shirtless and had an incredible build. I was happy Jasmine’s last fix was with a man that hot, and for the most part he seemed to be intuitive and kind.

“He’s a stand-up guy, but a bit opinionated and a little arrogant.”

Raising my pointer and thumb, I showed Julian an inch. He pushed my fingers wider apart and we both laughed.

“Did you know his wife?”

Julian nodded. “I was his best man.”

I left the question open because I was dying to know if his presence here had anything to do with her.

“He didn’t tell you why he was here, did he?”

Intuitive Julian. I liked him.

“I bet you’re the peacekeeper of the crew.”

“Yep, Drew is the clown, Doug is the “always up for it” guy. I’m the peacekeeper and Ian is the thinker.”

Kate Stewart's Books