Page 25 of The Shot You Missed
He was always handsome, even as an awkward teenager. But now? Jesus Christ, the man is smoking hot. Tall, muscular, confident… No wonder when he’s pictured with a woman, she’s model-level beautiful. He makes sense with a woman like that. Not a woman like me.
Which is why I need to protect my heart and remember where I stand.
My heart beats erraticallyas I make my way up the beach toward the bonfire the townies throw every year. I asked around and found out Bash would be here. We got in a day early, and I can’t wait to surprise him.
I’m going to tell him how I feel. I’ve spent so many months thinking about it. What if he rejects me? But I don’t think he will. The way he looks at me when we video chat is too soft. He cares about me. I just hope he cares as much as I do for him.
The scent of smoke fills the air first, followed by the laughter and chatter of dozens of teenagers. My hands shake, so I wrap them around my middle as I scan every face. He shouldn’t be hard to find. He’s taller than most people our age, and by the looks of things when we chat, he’s gotten broader too.
I’m nearly ready to crawl out of my skin with anticipation when I see him. He stands on the other side of the bonfire, close to the water, surrounded by a group of people. They laugh at something he says, and he grins before taking a sip of beer from a bottle. I can’t read the label from here.
Sand grinds beneath my feet as I move closer. But then a pretty blonde in a bikini with long legs and a perfect smile places her hand on his arm and laughs at something he says. She leans in to say something back, and I strain to catch his expression, but his back is angled toward me and I can’t.
But what I do see is the girl wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him. That, I see just fine. It sears itself into my retinas. Imprints itself into my mind.
My heart breaks, and panic fills me.
I can’t let him spot me here. He’ll know I’m upset. He’ll know I have feelings for him. And now that it’s clear he doesn’t have feelings for me, the idea of him seeing how devastated I am is the last thing in the world I want.
So I do what I always do when life hits me upside the head with a metaphorical baseball bat.
I run.
“You’ll love this place,”he says, pulling out my chair and dragging me out of my head.
My stomach does a pleasant little flip when he waits for me to sit before pushing it in. “I’m excited to try it.”
Within moments of being seated, a beautiful older woman with rich sienna skin, streaks of gray that look purposeful but must be natural in her short hair, and wrinkles adorning the corners of her eyes rushes out from the kitchen with a massive smile for the man now sitting across from me. “Sebastian, it’s so nice to see you.”
Bash stands, smiling brightly right back at her, and pulls her into a quick but familiar hug. She looks tiny compared to him, and it makes such an adorable picture that my chest aches.
“Good to see you too, Faduma. How’s the family?”
“Good, good. Thank you for asking. How are all those lovely boys on your team doing? We haven’t seen them in a while. You must come for dinner soon so we can celebrate when you win the first round of playoff games.” Her melodious voice dances along each heavily accented word.
Sebastian chuckles. “We will. They’ll be happy to see you and Abdi.”
The older woman, Faduma’s, gaze turns my way, and I didn’t think it possible, but her eyes light up even more. “And who is this beautiful woman?”
Bash’s cheeks pinken, and he pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “Faduma, meet Indie. My… She’s an old friend.”
“Old friend, eh?” Faduma’s lips twitch. “Well, I will bring the two of you some Shaah while you look at the menu. You like tea?”
I nod. “I do. I love tea.”
“I will return.”
Sebastian smiles as she hurries back toward the kitchen. It’s an affectionate, familiar smile, and I feel an irrational pang of jealousy. I’m not surprised he’s beloved around here. Bash has always been kind and good. But I used to be the recipient of those looks and smiles. Now?
Now we’re two strangers sitting at a table, and the only things I know about him are from articles anyone and everyone can read.
“You okay?”
“Hmm?” Forcing a smile onto my face, I meet his gaze. “Sorry, yeah. Just distracted by the menu. Everything looks good.”
“It is. You can’t go wrong with any of it, but my favorites are the Beef Suqaar with rice and the Soor with goat meat.” He points to the photos on the menu. “We could get a few things to share so you can try them.”
“Sure. That sounds good.”
