Rewind to You (7 page)

I smile.

She tosses something from behind her back, and I catch it instinctively. I glance at the football in my hands, gliding my fingers across the familiar leather. I look back up and find her smiling. I’m pretty sure no other girl has made me feel so miserable one second and so happy the next. Fate brought us together not once, but twice, after all. So I grip the football in one hand and walk out of the shop by her side.

I take it that fruitcake is your boyfriend?
“I take it Brian is your boyfriend?” I ask instead.

Sienna smiles. “No, Brian and I are just friends. Been friends ever since I can remember.”

Since I’m pretty sure Sienna has a boyfriend, I don’t know whether this is supposed to make me feel better or not.

“So who’s the other tool I’ve got to scare off, if I’m going to stand a chance?”

She laughs. I’m pretty sure she isn’t taking me seriously.

“My boyfriend went to Deep Run High, too,” she admits.

We cross the street and start up the sandy wooden bridge.

“So there’s Brian, and . . . ?”

“Kyle,” she says. “He played football, too.”

I try to be satisfied, to let the conversation flow into some safer subject. “Kyle . . .”

“Kyle Price,” she replies, like the last name is no big deal. But it is.

“Wait,” I say, “Kyle Price? From Deep Run?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

This is when everything gets a little weird. And complicated.

Memories of an unforgettable play-off game my junior year barge in, sharp images of a certain Deep Run High football player cutting back into focus. No other player on that field could have been half the douche Kyle Price was. Now I’m almost wishing Brian was her boyfriend.

If fate is real, it has a seriously mean sense of humor. Sienna’s boyfriend plays football, and he played against me. Sure, I gave Kyle the stiff arm during the game, but he grabbed my forearm and twisted it in return. No foul called. Freak. Then there’s that detail about me breaking his arm after the game.

It’s not as bad as it sounds. Promise. Some of the guys from my team and I stopped by Woodman’s Sports Grill to grab a bite to eat after the game. Turns out, Kyle and his buddies had the same idea. Opposing teams crossing paths after a heated game? It’s no picnic. Kyle started the fight; I just finished it.

Now that I think about it, Kyle had been sitting next to a cheerleader when we walked in—lip to lip, if I remember right. Point is, she wasn’t Sienna.

I shouldn’t pry. “How long have you two been together?”

Sienna hesitates. “Almost three years.”

“
Three?
”

“Yeah.”

After my initial shock—I’m competing with a boyfriend of three years—I think about that football game, about that night I walked in the grill and saw Kyle kissing that chick. It was only a little over a year ago.

I fake a smile, but inside I’m on fire. Sienna not only has a boyfriend, but he’s scum, and I know him. A ridiculous amount of jealousy floods in at the thought of Sienna in the stands, cheering for Kyle Price. I should have snapped his other arm, too. I’m kidding. Sort of.

“Price is your boyfriend, huh?”

“You know him?”

I manage a grin, entertaining the thought of telling her that she deserves better.

“Yeah,” I say instead. “I know him.”

CHAPTER 9

Sienna

“I
played football against Kyle once,” Austin explains. “Play-offs. Our junior year.”

“No way!” I say. What is it with me and football players? I remember when Kyle first asked me out, how I thought dating a star football player and all of the accompanying bells and whistles of popularity were the best thing that could happen to me. Gag, I know. I’ve learned. Regardless, Kyle became more than that. He is more than that.

“You sound so surprised that I play football,” Austin says.

“No, not at all. I’ll bet you were good.”

Austin’s lips twist into a doubtful expression.

“It’s just crazy, you know? Maybe I saw you there. At that game.”

I must have. I went to all of Kyle’s games. I broke up with him at the end of our junior year, but the fall and winter, and even the spring before that, we’d been inseparable.

“I remember that game, actually,” I recall as the details flood back, the two-week head cold I got that convinced me to leave the game early. And poor Kyle coming home with a broken arm.

“You guys killed us, right?”

Austin nods, and I think he’s hiding a grin.

Things went from bad to worse today, starting with Brian taking me into Austin’s store. I spent the whole morning on the beach glancing back at his shop. I checked my cell every few minutes, waiting for twelve o’clock to inch around. Then Austin asks me who my boyfriend is.

I have no need to apologize. I mean, Austin is only a friend. I plan to convince myself of that soon. Just as this thought settles in, a girl sneaks up and grabs Austin’s arm.

“Austin!” she exclaims with pouty lips. “Hey, baby.”

Go figure. This girl with purple streaks in her hair hangs on Austin’s arm. The two guys at her side obviously know Austin as well. They give him a series of high fives and knuckle bumps that looks practiced.

“Sienna, this is Reg and Leo,” Austin says.

Leo drapes his arm around me like we’re old buds. “ ’Sup, beautiful?”

Austin shoves him off playfully and Leo laughs. Then Austin points to the girl, who isn’t making the slightest attempt to hide her glare from me. “This is Lindsay.”

Girlfriend.
It’s obvious. Perhaps in the back of my mind, I knew this was a given. Maybe she’s an
ex-
girlfriend. Maybe.

“
Sienna
.” Lindsay says my name like the Grinch says “
Christmas
.”

“Hey, I’m playing ball with Sienna’s friends by the pier,” Austin says. “You guys can come along. See if they need some extra guys.”

“Nah, man,” Leo says and slips on his shades. “I’m workin’ on my tan.”

Reg swings an arm around Lindsay and pulls her along, bidding us a quick good-bye.

After short introductions, Brian kicks off his flip-flops and dances into position. Meanwhile, Austin marches through the hot sand as though the soles of his feet are made of leather. He whips off his shirt in one swift motion and tosses it aside, revealing the tattoo on his arm I have yet to hear the story behind. I shift my gaze to the pier, to the blue lifeguard stand, to anything but Austin. And those abs. But an instant later, I catch myself staring at him again, watching the way his tan shoulders ripple as he hunches into position.

If Austin was impressed by my pathetic break-dancing stunt, it was nothing compared to my reaction watching him with a football. He catches it like it’s nothing to him, second nature. He doesn’t miss a single catch, and he throws one ball so hard that D. J., the guy who catches it, lands flat in the sand on his backside.

Brian flips open a cooler after the game. “What position did you play? Quarterback?”

“Nah,” Austin replies. “Cornerback and wide receiver.”

“Wide receiver, huh?” Brian says with an undercurrent of awe in his tone. Then he tells Austin all about how he didn’t make the team his senior year because of some knee injury.

“I call Austin’s on our team next time,” Tanner shouts and waves good-bye.

Austin grabs his shirt and stands.

“Leaving?”

Austin turns to face me, bare chest and all, his shorts slung low on his hips like some male model who has never known even a sliver of insecurity. “I have to get to work soon.”

Sure he does. Work? He just got off. I put on my best poker face. “Ah, I get it.”

“No, trust me, I’d rather stay. I got a second job in the evenings, though.”

“Come on, two jobs during summer break?”

“Sometimes it sucks,” he concedes.

“I’m going to teach a few dance classes each week in Savannah, and Brian’s already saying I work too hard.”

Austin offers a faint smile. “Hey, thanks for dragging me out here.”

“Oh, is that what I did?” I laugh and so does he. “Well, it was worth it to watch you play. You’re incredible.”

That makes him smile.

I breathe in the salty air blowing across the ocean, the scent refreshing after a long weekend of Spencer’s depression and my mom’s fretting over how to cheer him up. Seeing Austin again and simply hearing him say my name was a nice distraction from it all.

Austin’s phone rings, and he motions to his cell. “Sorry, I gotta . . .”

“Go ahead.”

“Hey, Jesse,” he answers. “How’s Maggie?”

I shouldn’t be surprised. First Lindsay and now this. It’s a small miracle his phone wasn’t ringing off the hook Friday night on River Street. Let’s face it. I’m just one of many. I bet all the girls are calling him now to ask if they can stare at him during his next job.

I cross my arms, toying with the idea of leaving Austin to the phone call he just had to take. He’s a guy I met on River Street, that’s it. Still, as I start walking away, I can’t deny that I was hoping for more.

CHAPTER 10

Austin

I
cut the conversation short and hang up. “Hey,” I call out. I slip my hand gently around Sienna’s wrist and spin her around. I won’t lie, I’m pretty happy she ditched frat boy over there to talk to me, and I’m not about to let her get back to him.

“That was this old guy, Jesse,” I explain. “I walk his dog for him.”

I walk Maggie every day I can for Jesse. He may own Marjorie’s Café, but it’s ancient and in serious need of repairs. Doesn’t exactly drum up a lot of business. He has major arthritis, too, so he needs help with his dog.

Sienna diverts her gaze to the ocean. “That’s your second job? Walking a dog?”

“No, it’s not a job.”

She almost laughs. “So you’re doing it out of the pure goodness of your heart?”

Since the honest answer is
yes,
I’m not sure what to reply. “I like dogs.”

“Do you have one?”

“Best dog in the whole world.”

“The best, huh?”

“Hey, I was right about those pralines, wasn’t I?”

She smiles. “You’ve got a point.”

“His name’s Turbo,” I volunteer because he’s one piece of my past that’s easy. Safe.

“So, what is your second job?”

I spot frat boy by the cooler, pretending to be immersed in a drink as he spies on us. “I’m a waiter at The Westin. Dinner shift.”

“The Westin!”

“Yeah. You’ve heard of it?”

“Of course. It’s, like, super nice. My mom has always talked about staying there.”

“But you haven’t?”

“My dad never wanted to spend the money since we have the beach house where we can stay for free.”

I’m starting to see which parent Sienna took after. She hasn’t said much about her dad. Then again, she’ll never hear me speak a word about mine.

“Wow, two jobs,” she says. “That must keep you busy.”

Actually I have three jobs. I don’t mention that now. Most Saturdays, I work at the Federal Law Enforcement Training Center in Brunswick. Stand in as a mock suspect for law enforcement officers in training. Pretty sweet, actually.

She brushes her hand across a mound of wild grass growing up through the sand. “You know, you’re different from other guys.”

Long pause. “Okaaay.”

“In a good way!” she rushes in. “Most guys—I don’t know—sit around and talk about video games all day.”

The wind blows a strand of her hair across her face. I imagine the rest of the afternoon we could spend together, and it paints a much more appealing picture than waiting on people all night.

She has a boyfriend. She and I are friends. I guess that’s it? But, get real, that’s lame. What exactly can
friends
do together? Not what I have in mind, I’m sure. I have a feeling Sienna doesn’t know the answer either, so there’s only one way to find out. “Have you seen the stars over Savannah?”

Her forehead creases. “Um, yes.”

I shake my head. “Not like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you open Friday night? I mean, unless, of course, you’re busy with Brian.”

I’m about to mention Kyle, too, but I see I’ve caused enough of a sting already. She’s glaring at me, but I couldn’t care less. She has a loser of a boyfriend, and I plan on changing that.

Sienna crosses her arms. “Yeah, actually, I am open Friday night.”

“Sweet. Four o’clock?”

She hides a smile. “What do you have planned?”

I wink, content to keep it a surprise. “I want to show you something.”

CHAPTER 11

Sienna

I
’m no better than any other Austin-adoring female out there (of which I am sure there are plenty), my feet a fidgety mess as I wait by the curb where I said he could pick me up.
Stars over Savannah.
That’s all he gave me. One smoldering glance from those blue eyes and I was putty in his hands. Didn’t care for specifics.

Just friends, I lecture myself.

I look to the afternoon sky painted with seagulls, focusing on anything but the sound of a motorcycle pulling into the parking lot. Still, a shudder courses through me as I remember the motorcycles from the night my dad died. But this motorcycle is white and black, and the motorcycles that veered into my lane were—oh, it kills me that I can’t remember—not white, though.

I turn so I don’t have to look at the motorcycle approaching. But the punk cyclist pulls up right in front of me, and I can’t ignore those gorgeous eyes as he pulls off his helmet.

Just friends, I remind myself again.

“Hey,” Austin says and swings his leg around. Oh, he smells like heaven. “You live around here?”

I dart a glance at the pier. I didn’t want Austin to see our monster beach house, and I certainly didn’t want my mom to see him. The pier was a nice meeting spot. Middle ground.

“Just down the street.” I stare at his motorcycle again. “Are we going on that?”

He gives the bike a hard pat and smiles. “Oh yeah.”

I swallow hard. He notices.