With Every Breath (Sea Swept #2) (22 page)

As soon as I think that, though, hurt rips through me so deeply I gasp and have to sit down right where I am on the beach. I’m still wearing my sundress over my swimsuit from earlier, and I kick off my flip flops, nestle my drink in the sand, and put my head in my hands.
 

I can’t believe I misjudged West so badly. I can’t believe that the first time I let myself really care, really fall for someone, he turns into a jackass and strands me in Mexico. Mexico, for crying out loud. The first fat droplets hit my toes, and I scowl at the choppy surf. I hope West pukes his guts out tonight.

“Oh, Sofia,” I say, wishing I could talk to her. “You’d have loved this story.”

And that’s when my heart breaks, because the story of West and me is over, and I clutch myself and rock back and forth in the sand, starting to sob. I’ve cried a lot, but never over a guy. I didn’t think this would hurt so badly, but it’s like someone’s carved out my insides and scattered them across the sand for the seagulls to pick at.
 

The last few weeks with West were the first time since Sofia died that I’ve let myself think of a future that included love, that included someone as close to me as she was. The first time I felt I deserved to be happy when she wasn’t breathing anymore.
 

More raindrops fall on my bare shoulders, and despite the pain, I stop crying and lift my face up to the sky. Sofia loved the rain, and for a moment I think that maybe this is her, that the rain is her way of telling me that she still wants me to be happy.

“I will,” I promise her fiercely. I feel shattered, broken, like pieces of me are lost at sea and won’t ever be recovered, but I swear to Sofia right then that I won’t let it stop me from being whole. Not today, but someday. As long as there’s rain in the sky and breath in my lungs, there’s still a chance.

“You’re going to get soaked,” a voice says from behind me. I stiffen, sure I’ve misheard, but when I turn in the sand, there’s West, standing with his hands in his pockets.

My heart lurches, but I shove the hope away. He’s only here to soften the blow; he must have felt dumping me with no explanation was too cowardly after all. I can’t stand the thought of him seeing how torn up I am over this, so I brush away the remnants of my tears, scramble up from the sand, and resolve to show him how much I
don’t
care.

“Look, you didn’t have to come here and explain,” I say, striving for a breezy tone. “I get it. And it’s fine.”

West stares at me. “It’s fine?”

“Sure. You and I were fun, but maybe it’s better this way.” I flip my hair over my shoulder like I don’t care one bit, and see hurt flash in West’s eyes.
Good
, I think. If he feels only a morsel of the pain that’s shooting through my heart right now, then I’ve done the job.

“Better what way?” West says slowly, his dark hair stirring in the stormy breeze. I hate him for looking so sexy in the goddamned company polo when my heart is broken.

“Us being over now, instead of later.”

West gives me a long look. More raindrops scatter on the sand, on my shoulders, on his shirt, but neither of us moves to go inside.

“Is that really how you feel?” he finally says.

I cross my arms, determined not to let him see how much he’s hurt me.

“Why are you even here?” I ask. West glances at the horizon, then shrugs.

“I got into an argument with the Hotel Director,” he says.

“Why?”

West’s eyes find mine. “He tried to make me abandon my girlfriend in Mexico.”

“Your girlfriend?” I snap, my temper flaring. “Don’t you mean the crappy employee you fired?”

West winces, then takes a step towards me.

“I did have to fire you,” he says, as the rain falls around us. “I’m sorry. But it wasn’t supposed to go down like that, Yasmin, I promise. It was supposed to be in Miami, at the end of this cruise cycle. I was going to tell you about it last night, but we … got distracted.”

Thinking about last night feels like needles in my heart now. And I wish he hadn’t come to explain, and apologize, because it hurts even more that he’s not a total jackass.

“Gee, thanks for planning to be nice about dumping me,” I say, my voice almost coming out like a growl.

“Yasmin, you’re not listening.”

“I think I got the gist,” I say angrily. “You’re firing me to get me off the ship so you don’t have to have an awkward conversation where you break my heart. Where you don’t have to see me break down, because I tried so hard not to fall for you, but you made it impossible, with your stupid abs and your stupid understanding and your stupid talent.” I don’t know whether the wetness on my face is from tears or the rain, but I can’t seem to stop the flood of words. “But now I’ve gone and fallen anyway, and I didn’t want you to know, but you’re here and I hate that you’ve only come to let me down easy, to tell me that you don’t want me anymore.” I finish on a sob, furious with him but maybe even madder at myself. So much for pretending not to care.

West closes the distance between us until he’s standing before me.

“If that were the case, why would I be here?” His gaze is so intent that I’m suddenly torn, but I won’t let myself hope. I duck my head to stare at the sand so I don’t have to see his face.

“I don’t know,” I say raggedly, “but you’d better get back to the ship before it leaves you behind. You’ll never get your promotion then.”

“I’m not getting the promotion.”

“Why not?” I lift my head to see West’s mouth twist wryly.

“Probably because I punched the Hotel Director.”

“You
what?
”

“Yasmin, look behind you.” Gently, West takes my shoulders and turns me to face the sea. The dock is empty, and the
Radiant Star
is making its way out to the open ocean.

“The ship is gone,” West says, turning me back to him. His hands are warm on my shoulders. “The promotion is gone. My job is gone. But I don’t care, because all that matters is you. All that matters is us. I was told I had to fire a member of my crew, and I chose you partly because I know you don’t want to be here anymore, that you want to be home with your family and go to grad school. You were only staying here for me, and I care about you too much to let you do that.”

At that my heart seizes, the hope so fierce that I inhale sharply.
 

“West …” I start, but he cups my cheek with one hand and brushes his thumb over my lips to quiet me. The rain falls on his face, rolling over his features, and his eyes are intent, drinking me in and holding me still.

“I love you, Yasmin.” West’s voice is quiet, but I can hear him clearly even over the sound of the rain. “Ever since you came on board, my life has turned upside down. The past few weeks have been the best in my entire life, because of you. I thought I knew what I wanted, but when I found out you’d been kicked off the ship, I suddenly knew that there was nothing on board for me anymore. And I know I’ve screwed everything up, but I never meant to break up with you. I didn’t know how, exactly, but I wanted us to be together. I thought you’d be home and I’d be in Miami, but now I can still be … somewhere.” His expression darkens a little. “I understand if right now you don’t want that somewhere to be anywhere near you, but I’m going to make this up to you, I promise. No matter how long it takes, whether it’s days, or weeks, or even months, I—”

“Seconds,” I say, and cut him off with a kiss.
 

I’ve startled him, but then his mouth opens, and his tongue curls around mine. His arms slide around me, and I melt into him like the rain into the sand. When we break apart I’m breathless, and he’s grinning.

“Seconds works for me,” he says, and pulls me forward to cradle me against his chest. I slip my arms around his waist and lay my cheek against his shirt, and look out at the sea. Rain dapples the water, and creates little puddles on the beach around us. It’s beautiful, and I think of Sofia and smile.

“You okay?” West says against my wet hair. He seems content to stay out in the warm light rain, and so am I. I could stay here forever with him.

“I’m sorry I cost you your promotion,” I say against his chest. I feel him shake his head.

“If that’s how Star Heart Cruises treats its employees, then I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“Did you check into the hotel?” I ask, raising my head. West shakes his head.

“I doubt I can afford this place. Especially since all I have is my passport; my wallet is still in my cabin.”

At that I draw back. “They kicked you off the ship without your stuff?”

“Randall said I was lucky he didn’t have me thrown in jail after I ‘attacked’ him.”

“What an asshole,” I say fervently.

“Owen’s going to ship the rest of my stuff home. He said the hotel could help with a plane ticket; I’ll call him later for my credit card info.”

“So I guess you’re staying with me,” I say, smiling up at him.

“I guess so,” he replies, and gives me a long kiss that has me thinking about testing out the softness of the hotel bed. Later. For now I’m content to have West’s arms around me. Together, we contemplate the
Radiant Star
as it disappears into the rain.

“What do we do now?” I ask presently. West strokes my hair. We’re both soaked through, but I feel filled with sunshine.

“We get you home in time to go to that hospital auction,” West says.

“Are you going home too?” His dad lives in the northeast, I recall. But West tilts me a hint of a smile.

“Home is where you are.”

My heart swells until I feel my chest might break with how happy I am right now. There’s a sharp sliver of pain, because oh, how I wish Sofia could have felt love like this, but the rain around us continues to fall gently, like a blessing. I want to take West home with me and show him how my sister and I would dance on the deck in a downpour. I want to show him everything.

“Is it too soon to ask you to meet my parents?” I say shyly.

“Nope,” he answers, and drops a kiss on my temple. I look up into his gorgeous blue eyes, and am struck by a thought.

“I know where we should go first,” I murmur.

“Where?”

A grin tugs at my lips, and I run a hand under West’s shirt. His abs tense, and a gleam appears in his eyes.
 

“Back to the bell tower,” I say, and West laughs.

Chapter 23

West

I wake up on a bed so large and soft, it’s immediately apparent that I’m nowhere near my small, hard ship mattress. Furthermore, there’s no thrumming of the engines, no motion to turn my stomach. Everything is quiet and still. The feeling is so odd that I sit straight up, blinking wildly at the spacious hotel room before I remember yesterday.
 

Oh shit, I threw away my job. I punched my boss. My mind starts to race in dismay, because there’s no way I’m getting a reference from Star Heart Cruises. I have some savings, but how long will they last? Goodbye, undergraduate classes. What the hell was I thinking?

Then a door to my left opens, and Yasmin walks out. Involuntarily, I smile, and my muscles start to relax. Right. She’s what I was thinking. Seeing her grin sleepily at me, her dark hair mussed and her body wrapped in a fluffy white hotel towel and hopefully nothing else, I know I made the right choice.

Yasmin walks over and sits down next to me.

“I wanted to tell you something,” she says, her expression turning serious. “Yesterday, I thought I’d lost you. I was pretty freaking angry, to be honest, by the time you showed up—”

“And you were looking for a butter knife?” I say wryly.

Her mouth turns up a little at the corners. “Maybe.” But her dark eyes are shadowed, and I hate that I hurt her, even for a moment. Before I can say anything, Yasmin adds, “But also, even though I thought we were over, you gave me a gift.”

“A gift?” I ask, not following.
 

She twists her hands in her lap. “When Sofia died, a big part of me died with her. I didn’t know how to find myself again. Sofia hoped I’d be a photographer, to take pictures since she wouldn’t be able to. So I applied for the Star Heart job, even though it wasn’t me, because I was looking for her. If that makes sense.”

“It does,” I say, taking her hand. “It makes sense to me.”

“Anyway, now I realize I’ll never be able to fulfill Sofia’s dream by denying my own, and that I need to follow my own path. But I think Sofia’s wish wasn’t about photography, exactly. It was about living. Before, I was so focused on being a psychologist and helping people like Sofia and me that I was closed off to everything else. I would never have let myself be with someone, care about someone the way I care about you. And after she passed away, I couldn’t see value in myself without Sofia; it was like I’d lost my lens. When I’d take a picture, all I’d think was that she could have taken a better one. I couldn’t be happy, knowing she was gone.”

I squeeze Yasmin’s hand even as I steel myself; I can’t help but think that all of this is building up to some form of
I can’t see you anymore
, and dread makes my mouth dry.

“But,” Yasmin continues with a watery smile, “even though coming to the ship didn’t work out professionally, it led me to you. You’re the reason I can open up. I can see beauty again. I finally realized that it doesn’t matter who would take the better picture—what matters is taking the picture. Living, experiencing. Remembering what we’ve lost, but finding peace anyway.” She bites her lip, then takes a breath. “I’m still a ways off from peace, but I’m getting there. And though you weren’t the only reason, you’re a big part of it. So I wanted to thank you. Because of you, I did something I thought I’d never be able to do … I fell in love.”

The dread falls away like a pile of sand, leaving me grinning with relief.

I pull her towards me. Yasmin stretches out, the fluffy robe soft against my torso. I bet her skin is softer, and I ease the plush fabric down from her shoulder. Mine. She’s mine, and I can hardly believe I’ve been given such a gift. She’s thanking me? It should be the other way around.

“What do you think?” Yasmin asks, her dark eyes vulnerable even as she slides a hand across my chest.