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ALL THE WORDS
I COME AWAKE slowly, languidly, until I realize what we’ve done. I glance at the clock.
We’ve been asleep for over an hour. We barely have any time left and we’ve spent some of
it sleeping. I glance at the clock again. Ten minutes to shower and another ten to find the
perfect spot on the beach to watch our first and last day together come to an end.
I shake Olly awake and rush to get dressed. In the bathroom, I slip into my one-sizefits-all
dress. One size can fit all because the skirt flares out and the top is ribbed elastic
that can stretch to accommodate most anyone. Forgoing my scrunchie, I let my hair have
its way, and it falls curly and full around my shoulders and down my back. In the mirror
my skin glows a warm brown and my eyes glitter.
I am the picture of health.
Olly’s seated on the top rung of the railing on the lanai. His position looks precarious,
even though he’s holding on to the railing with both hands. I remind myself he has plenty
of control over his body.
He smiles, more than smiles, when he sees me. He’s Olly and not-Olly again, eyes sharp
and tracking my approach. I’m aware of every single sparking nerve in my body. How does
he do that with just a look? Do I have the same effect on him? I stop at the sliding glass
doors and look him over. He’s wearing a close-fitting black T-shirt, black shorts, and black
sandals. The angel of death on vacation.
“Come here,” he says, and I nestle into the V of his legs. He goes still and his grip on the
rail tightens. I inhale the fresh scent of him and look up. His eyes are a clear, summerblue
lake that I can’t see the bottom of. I touch my lips to his. He hops down from the
railing, pushing me back against a table. Before I know it, I’m flush against him and he’s
kissing me with a groan. I open for him and we kiss until I can’t breathe, until my next
breath is one of his. My hands are on his shoulders, on the back of his neck, in his hair.
My hands don’t know where to stop. I am electrified. I want everything, and all at once.
He breaks our kiss and we stand there, drawing ragged breaths, foreheads and noses
touching, his hands gripping too hard on my hips, my hands flat against his chest.
“Maddy.” His eyes are a question and I say yes. Because it was always going to be yes.
“What about the sunset?” he asks.
I shake my head. “There’ll be another one tomorrow.”
He looks relieved, and I can’t help but smile. He walks me backward through the lanai
doors until the backs of my knees are pressed into the bed.
I sit. And then stand right back up. It was easier jumping from Black Rock than doing
this.
“Maddy, we don’t have to.”