Beyond the Sea (32 page)

Savannah bent and unzipped her black high-heeled boots before yanking them off. “Ugh. I’m retaining so much water after that flight. I must look like crap.” She straightened up and shook her head, laughing with a tinge of hysteria. “Not that any of that matters. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say. This is like talking to a ghost, you know?” After taking off her suede jacket and tossing it over a nearby chair, she stood there waiting in her skinny jeans and green silk sweater, vulnerable in bare feet and looking just as beautiful as always. “What was it like? How did you survive?”

Memories of the island and Brian flickered through his mind like a movie on fast-forward. They’d managed to avoid snakes on Golden Sands, but there was a python around Troy’s chest now, crushing his lungs.

He had to say something. Anything. “Long story.”

She smiled tentatively. “Right. You must be exhausted. Do you want to go to bed?”

Ignoring her question, he tugged at the sleeves of his Henley, then shoved his hands into the pockets of the too-big jeans his mother had brought. “Mom says you got Ty into rehab. Thank you.”

“
Of course.” Her face brightened. “He’s doing really well. Have you been able to talk to him?”

“
Tomorrow. It was past curfew when I could call. Time difference.”

“
Right. I have no idea what time it is.” She rubbed her face. “Guess it’s the middle of the night here.”

“
You didn’t have to come.” It sounded harsher than he intended, and the hurt evident in her dark eyes and the downturn of her mouth sent a flare of guilt through him. “I just mean…but it’s nice that you did. Thank you.”

“
You don’t have to
thank
me. Of course I’m here.” She stepped toward him, her arms slipping around his waist. “My boyfriend just came back from the dead.”

Troy sighed internally, bringing his hands to her shoulders. He needed to find Brian, and this was the last thing he wanted to deal with, which was probably pretty shitty of him. He hated to see the tears well in Savannah’s eyes.

“
I know we had that fight,” she said. “I know I screwed up. But come on. You can’t seriously still be mad? After all this? When I found out your plane was missing… It was unbearable. I wanted so badly to tell you how much I love you.”

“
Savannah, I’m not mad.”

Her lips trembled. “Then what are you?”

“
I don’t know.” It was the truth, at least.

“
I can’t believe this.” She sniffed, gripping his waist. “I thought…” Shaking her head, she choked on a sob. “I’m such an idiot.”

“
You’re not.” All he could do was hold her while she wept against his chest, her tears wetting his shirt. She was small and soft and lovely, but God, it made him ache for Brian.

Her voice was muffled in his chest. “I know I fucked up by not telling you Ty was using.”

“
It’s okay. It doesn’t matter anymore.” Troy rubbed her back.

She jerked up her head. “How can you say it doesn’t matter? Of course it matters!
You
matter to me! Our
relationship
matters!”

Gently, he eased away from her and sat on the closest bed. After a few moments of sniffling and wiping her eyes, Savannah sat beside him. She stared down at her hands, spreading her manicured fingers over her thighs. “I’m so sorry.”

“
I’m sorry too. But it’s in the past now. All forgiven.”

Her eyebrows lifted as she looked at him. “Forgiven? But not…not back together?”

“
I care about you, and I want us to be friends. I’m so grateful that you convinced Ty to get help.”

Savannah’s breath stuttered. “Just friends? Troy, we were so good together. I know we could be again.”

He tried to think of the best way to say that everything had changed. That the changed thing was
him
, and nothing she did or said would matter.

Then it was too late to say anything because Savannah was straddling his lap and kissing him, pushing him back to the mattress. “Baby, just let me love you. I know you need it.”

Her lips tasted faintly of the berry lip gloss she’d always liked, and he was struck by another wave of déjà vu. She was a beautiful woman, kissing and rubbing against him, and it felt good. He could have let her blow him or fuck him or whatever she wanted to do. But it wasn’t what he wanted. She wasn’t who he wanted.

Taking hold of her shoulders, Troy pushed gently. “Savannah, I’m sorry.”

Her eyes welled with fresh tears. “Didn’t you miss me at all? You don’t even want to screw me? No strings, okay?”

He knew how it would feel to fuck her; knew she could get him off. But God help him, he didn’t want it.
Where’s Brian?

After another few moments of conspicuous silence, she jumped off him and dashed into the bathroom. The door was closed before he could manage to call after her. With a sigh, he went to tap on the smooth wood. “I’m sorry. It’s not you.” He waited. “Savannah?”

Through sobs, she called, “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

“
Sure.”

Sitting on the end of the bed closest to the door again, he miserably listened to her cry. Then the tap ran for a while, and finally the door opened. Her eyes were red and puffy and her makeup gone, hair hanging lank around her face. Water had splashed the front of her sweater. She sniffed. “I’ll call the desk about another room.”

“
Don’t be silly. It’s the middle of the night. There are two beds.”

She stood with arms crossed, her gaze on her bare feet. “Are you sure?”

“
I’m sure.”

She sat on the end of the other bed, not looking at him. “I guess we should get some sleep.”

“
It’s not you, Savannah. It really isn’t.”

Her chin wobbled, and she looked at the ceiling, pressing her lips together. When she had control, she said, “It’s fine. You want to see other girls. I’m sure the line has already started in the lobby. I guess I can’t blame you.”

“
It’s not like that.”

“
Then what’s it like?”

He thought of Brian’s low laugh, and the feel of his stubble, and the way he listened when Troy sang, smiling as if Troy was an angel. He heard snatches of the new songs running through his mind, waiting to take form. “I’m not the same person. I can’t just go back to the way things were.”

She ran a hand through her long hair, twisting it into a knot and releasing it. “It’s my fault for thinking things would be different. You told me you didn’t love me. But I guess I wanted to believe you didn’t mean it. That we didn’t really break up—we just had a fight, like all couples do sometimes. That you realized how much I meant to you when your life flashed before your eyes.” She raised a hand when Troy opened his mouth. “I get it. You can’t help the way you feel. Let’s go to sleep.”

“
Okay. I’m going to have another shower.” He smiled weakly. “Can’t get enough of hot water.”

Savannah’s smile was equally lackluster. “I bet. Good night, Troy. Enjoy the shower.” She hesitated as she unzipped her suitcase. “And no matter what, I’m so glad you’re okay. I hope you know that.”

He swallowed hard. “I do. And I hope you know I really care about you. I want to be friends. I mean it.”

She nodded and busied herself with her suitcase, not meeting his gaze.

Troy escaped to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. The hot shower beckoned, and he avoided looking in the mirror. He knew what he’d see—too many ribs sticking out, skin tanned and peeling, his hair too long and curling. He’d see stubble on his face, and he’d have to shave it off himself.

Be in the now. There is only now.

Eyes closed, Troy stood under the thunder of water for a long time.

When he finally emerged, the room was dark aside from the little lamp by the minibar. He tiptoed to the bed by the door, his skin damp and a towel around his waist.

“
It’s okay, you don’t have to be quiet,” Savannah said. “Tired as hell, but of course can’t sleep to save my life.” She was curled onto her side facing the window, and he could only see her back, the straps of her white nightie pale against her tan.

“
Sorry.”

“
Oh, he came by while you were in there. Guess he couldn’t sleep either.”

Troy’s heart stuttered. “Who?”

“
Brian Sinclair.”

“
What did he say?” Troy realized his voice had shot up in volume and also a few octaves. He lowered it. “Did he leave his room number?”

“
Uh-uh. Said not to bother you.”

Blood rushed in Troy’s ears. “What else did he say? What did
you
say?”

Savannah looked over her shoulder with a frown. “Why are you spazzing out? I told him you were in the shower. Asked if he had a message, and he said no.”

Heart in his throat, Troy forced a casual tone. “Oh, okay. Cool.” He tugged on his jeans and pawed through the suitcase of clothes his mom had brought, yanking out a blue hoodie. He pulled the soft material over his head.

“
I’ll just go find him,” he said. “Can’t sleep.”

“
Troy, what’s wrong?”

“
Nothing.” Barely remembering to grab his key card, he slipped on his favorite Rainbow brand sandals, so familiar and molded to his feet after the years he’d worn them. “Get some rest.”

“
You’re going now? It’s the middle of the night.”

“
My clock’s all messed up. We’ll have breakfast in a few hours. I’ll be back.”

The door shut behind him with a quiet
whoosh
and
click
. He stood in the silent hallway. Now what? He barely resisted the urge to start banging on doors to find Brian. Was he on this floor? He could have been anywhere.

Troy strode to the elevator, his sandals silent on the plush carpet. The front desk would know.

“
He’s in the shower.”

The girl’s voice echoed in every step Brian took. He distantly recalled that Savannah was her name. She’d looked young and beautiful, wearing a silky little white nightgown that barely grazed her thighs. It hadn’t seemed to bother her to answer the door practically naked, but he supposed with a body like that, why should it?

He’d glimpsed past her narrow shoulders into the room. The covers pushed down on one of the beds, a pink suitcase open on the other, articles of clothing abandoned on the floor.

“
He’s in the shower.”

It shouldn’t have hurt. Shouldn’t have reached into Brian’s chest and squeezed his heart so hard he was afraid it was irreparable. They were back in the real world. Troy’s family was here, his girlfriend. His old life. His
real
life.

Walking into that hospital room, Brian had felt like an intruder, and he’d certainly felt it even more acutely when Savannah had opened the door to Troy’s room. God, Brian had hoped…

What? What did I hope for? What did I expect?

“
Sir?”

Blinking, he focused on the young woman behind the counter. “Yes. What was that?”

“
Are you sure you want to go to the airport now? It’s only three o’clock. Nothing will be open for a couple hours.”

“
I’m sure. Thank you.” The thong of the plastic flip-flops he’d been given rubbed uncomfortably between his toes, and Brian lifted his foot to fiddle with it briefly. “There’s a plane arriving for me in a few hours.”

She smiled, but it was uneasy. “All right. If you head outside, the doorman will hail a taxi right away.”

“
Thank you. My airline company took care of the room, yes?”

“
They did. Is there any luggage?”

Brian held up his shaving kit. “Nope.” He’d taken the kit when they’d insisted on putting him into an ambulance, not willing to part with it. He’d lost his grandfather’s hat, but he wouldn’t lose this. He didn’t know what had become of his suitcase or backpack and didn’t give a shit.

“
Have a safe trip home, Mr. Sinclair.” She smiled kindly, and the other night clerk, a young man nearby tapping a computer and clearly eavesdropping, wished him well.

Home.

As Brian pushed open the first set of glass doors, thinking he might puke, Troy’s voice rang out.