Go Away, Darling - Alexis Anne Page 0,2

home.

Like a bolt of lightning.

When I was five years old, right here on Calusa Key, all my friends and I were struck by a bolt of lightning. And the girl I had been standing beside was now sitting in front of me.

It was like getting struck a second time. “Olivia?”

I hadn’t quite allowed myself to wonder what happened to my friends after we moved away from the island. I was too preoccupied with winning games to really let my mind wander down that path yet, but it was the first thing on my post-season to do list.

But now I didn’t have to wonder at all.

“Olivia?” I took a step back for some reason. Maybe I was surprised. Maybe I really was slammed by a ton of bricks. Maybe I needed a better vantage point to take all of her in. Regardless, it was a bad choice because once I started moving I couldn’t stop. I had no motor control. Between the weird things I was feeling, the lack of breathing and swallowing, and the beer, I teetered, tottered, and then went right over the side of my damn boat. Ass over head, no less.

Splash.

Cold. Salty. Wet.

Embarrassing.

“Son of a bitch!” I yelled at myself as I pushed up from the muddy floor and stood. We were only in five feet of water and the mud sucked my feet right in.

“Are you okay?” I heard her yell. And giggle. I must have been a sight. Dumb mainlander in his fancy boat falling overboard. She probably thought I was a frat-bro who didn’t know starboard from stern.

“Yep. Just . . . yes. I’m fine.” Holy son of all that is good and right in the world. Olivia Saldana. The Olivia Saldana. We only lived on the island for a year and half when I was five, but my brothers and I loved this island and all the friends we made when we lived here.

For me the most important of all those people was Olivia. I loved her. Well, as much as a five-year-old flirt can love his big brother’s friend. I thought I was tough shit. That if I smiled just right and dropped a line or two she’d swoon for me. I was an idiot. I could see that now. But back then? I couldn’t think clearly.

And obviously nothing had changed because as a grown man I had the same urges. Maybe if I smile just right and say something clever she’ll throw herself at me.

Asshole, she probably doesn’t even remember your stupid ass.

I took a deep breath, slogged my way around to the stern of my boat, and hauled myself back up and in with a wave of water that spilled over the engine well, shedding my sopping wet shirt and sunglasses in the process. I couldn’t look at her. I was too excited and embarrassed—a really unfortunate combination, all things considered—so I searched for a towel and attempted to dry off before facing her. I expected a laugh for my ineptitude. Or maybe boredom.

Instead I found her staring at me with her mouth hanging open.

Like, jaw unhinged hanging open as she stared at me. “Chris?” She half-whispered.

My heart stopped. She remembers.

I ran the towel over my hair. “It is you, isn’t it? Olivia?”

She nodded slowly, pulled her sunglasses down and let them lay against her chest so I could see her gorgeous brown eyes and the light smattering of dark freckles that dotted her nose and cheeks.

“Chris?” She asked again, putting her hands up to emphasize her shock, or maybe it was excitement. Then as if she were suddenly jarred into action she grabbed a bowline and looped it around one of the cleats on my boat, binding our two vessels together, then climbed over into my boat.

“I can’t believe it!” she whispered. “You’re not on TV.” She made a square with her hands.

TV? Moron...she watches you play ball.

I looked down at my bare chest, wet trunks, feet, and the water dripping all over the deck. “Nope. I’m right here. How the hell are you?” I wanted to hug her but was that the right thing to do? Or was that too forward? She climbed into my boat, so maybe?

I took a step and wrapped my arms around her. I just meant it to be a quick, friendly squeeze, but then she hugged her arms around my waist, her hands going flat against my skin and I froze. The contact of her hand on my bare back wasn’t sexual or