Love In Destin ✔

27 - honey, honey

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𝑴𝒂𝒚𝒂

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THIS TIME HE tells me where we're going. He drives on, the wind touching our skin and making the ends of my hair stand on edge, just like my body. Rick continues to speed up as we reach the beach, and he parks near some palm trees." I thought something more calming would do," he says.

We walk out of the car and toward the beach. I take off my sneakers so my feet can feel the warm grains of sand. The sea is a rippling blanket of jewel blue as squabbling seagulls fly overhead, and the sound of the waves welcomes me to its beauty. I leave Rick behind, running to the water as the sand tickles my feet and the water washes over them. The waves also wash away my footprints, taking my imprint with them. And I feel like I am one with nature. Finally, I remember that Rick is here with me and all thoughts about connecting with my inner consciousness disappear. I turn around to see him enjoying the feel of the wind with his eyes closed.

"You wanna get something to drink?" he asks as soon as he opens them.

We walk to the same bar I visited with Mark and his friends. There is a different barista this time, a girl. Her eyes roam Rick's body as he orders his drink, and I try to ignore it, but then it keeps biting me. I am ordering myself a non-alcoholic cocktail when Rick stumbles beside me, and his hand grazes mine, which sends a spark of electricity leaping from his skin straight into my veins. Was that a static shock, or was my heart just skipping a beat?

"What?" he asks, and it's understandable why he's asking. I've been staring at him like he has a booger for over a minute.

"Nothing," I sheepishly smile.

We sit down near a window that offers us a full view of the ocean. Far in the distance, people surf the large waves that the strong wind produces.

I turn my eyes away from the window to Rick, who studies me for several seconds. He clears his throat, "Earlier, by the ice cream truck. You seemed... not fine,"

A ragged breath whistles through my teeth, and it all heaves out of me. I tell him everything that happened today, including the onslaught of feelings I experienced and how I feel like I let the group down, which I did. I cannot believe my actions were selfish, and I didn't realize it.

"I can't blame you," expresses Rick, taking a sip of his drink. "I would've done the same if those two were pissing me off,"

He scratches the crown of his head, and his gaze flickers tentatively toward mine. "But you cared. You cared enough to take the initiative. Yes, it was the wrong initiative, and you need to work on some things, but you still cared,"

"I would've done the complete opposite," he continues. "And done my own work and forgotten the other two ever existed. The fact that you made the scripts and did their work still baffles me,"

My stomach dips and rises higher than it had started out. His eyes are so warm and intense on me right now that I'm sure he can read through all my thoughts about him and the otherworldly emotions I'm feeling written in my pupils.

When we finish our drinks, we stride from the beach and across the street to a little flower shop, where I tell Rick to wait outside for me. He doesn't even question it and just waits.

I can never tire of flowers and their sweet fragrance. The shop owner greets me as I roam the little shop. Each flower is a delicate bloom, regardless of shape, length, or color. Their petals are delicate works of art, and their hues are medicine for my soul. I guess it's not just me who feels that way, though. We bring flowers into the hospitals and graveyards, send them to express our love and plant them in our yards, though they bear no edible fruits. I see a bunch of white lilies, and I immediately ask the owner to pack them up in a small bouquet for me.