To the Beach and Back

Chapter 19

Nick Jacobs.

Jealous of another man?

Or does he simply not like him? I study Nick's face as Dave drives away, giving me one last wave through his open window before pulling out of sight. Even though Nick and I have been apart for so long, his face is still as familiar as ever. I can still picture him in his early twenties when we first met at a softball game in Southern Pennsylvania.

I went with a friend who wanted to cheer for her boyfriend, a guy who ended up being a total jerk and got thrown out of the game for deliberately plowing into the catcher while trying to score. Amy was so upset at his sudden outburst ... and the way he left without saying a word, peeling rubber from the parking lot and flipping the bird out of his open window.

Nick had walked over, his shaggy brown hair poking out of his ball cap and dirt stains on his white uniform pants. "You ladies okay? Need a ride home or anything?"

At first, I thought there was a connection between Amy and Nick, and wondered at how this could mark the beginning of their great love story: with them falling in love after she was ditched by a baseball bully.

After all, Amy was leggy and thin with chunky, 90's blond highlights and a perfectly flat stomach peeking out from beneath her crop top. In comparison, I was short, brunette, and always with a pooch, no matter how many Slim Fast diets I tried to follow.

But then I noticed the small sideline glances he gave me, his blue eyes sending shivers up and down my spine. Nick was long and lean, built like a distance runner and his tight softball pants did amazing things to his rear end.

"The team is going to a nearby bar after the game," he had said to me. "You want to join me?"

Me.

Not us, not the team, but him.

"Sure, sounds good," I squeaked after Amy nudged my arm, my cheeks flaming red.

His team won. We all went to the bar. And after five hours and countless pitchers of beers, Nick and I were a couple.

God, that was the most amazing day.

Warm feelings of nostalgic memories soften my anger over Nick being rude. I can't help it. Being near Nick floods me with a blinding mixture of fond recollections and painful remorse. I think about how familiar it once was to be held by him, his strong arms wrapped around my body, and the way my head would nestle perfectly on his neck. If only we could turn back the clock and be young again ... to have a wonderful fresh start. I'd be smarter this time. Wiser. Less of a perfectionist and more like the laid-back, happy woman I used to be who'd accept invitations to bars from perfect strangers.

Different.

"Well, he's a character."

Nick's words snap me back from my nostalgia.

What does he mean by that?

I mean, Dave is a character—a dynamic, vibrant man with main-character energy who's done quite well for himself here in Ocean City. The man who encouraged me to fully enjoy my free days at the beach and who's spent the last couple of hours trying to convince me of my worthiness, regardless of my age.

Some of my anger returns.

"What are you doing here, Nick? We were expecting you."

He purses his lips. "We?"

"Yeah, Allyse and me. You didn't tell us you were coming. I wouldn't have made plans with Dave had I known."

Or ... did he tell Allyse and she didn't say anything to me.