Through the Lens (Click Duet #1) (Bay Area Duet Series) by Persephone Autumn (best book club books .txt) 📕

at me with a tenderness I haven’t seen in a long time. A tenderness I am all too familiar with. Hummingbirds take flight in my chest, flapping their wings beneath my sternum and causing palpitations.

I play it off and swat him with my napkin. “Shut up,” I say with a giggle.

We eat and laugh and share great conversation over dinner. Being here with Gavin feels normal. Natural. When we finish eating, he asks if I will meet him at an ice cream shop across from his hotel. Without hesitation, I tell him yes.

Tonight has been fun. It has been a long time since I have been this relaxed and more myself. As if a part of me has returned with Gavin here. I miss that part of myself. The carefree, jubilant, and eccentric girl. He has been the only person who loved every side of me. And the only person I have exposed so much of myself to.

When he moved away, a slice of me went with him. The piece of me reserved only for him. The piece that feels as if it has returned home.

We stroll down Mandalay Avenue, hands clasped while he eats a cone topped with cookie dough ice cream and mine topped with mint avalanche. Our hands swing between us, our lips silent as we consume our confections.

Simple moments like this are ones I will never forget. Memories stashed away for the days when he is gone. Memories of all the wonderful times we have shared.

We don’t need to say anything. We don’t have to do anything. As long as it is just us, everything in life is perfect. Our time apart resides in some nether region of the universe.

At a crosswalk, we wait for the traffic to stop and move to the beachside of the street. He leads us down one of the small side streets and toward a public access point for the beach. As he pops the last of his cone in his mouth, he bends and begins removing his shoes.

“Will you walk with me?” he asks as he stands upright. His love for the beach hasn’t vanished over the years. He was lucky his mom’s promotion led them to another coastal state. If Gavin didn’t have the beach, I don’t think he would be whole. Not sure if it’s the sand or the water or the salty air, but Gavin was born to be near a beach.

Part of me wants to give him a hard time and say isn’t that what we’ve been doing? But I stop myself. It’s one thing to weave in and out of people on a busy, pedestrian-loaded street. It is completely different to step onto the fine-grained beach, barefoot, and walk in the dark along the surf holding someone’s hand. Though the beach may not be pitch black, it’s dark enough to make the level of intimacy go from zero to one hundred in seconds.

He studies my face, waiting for me to answer. I take the last bite of my cone, buying myself a few more seconds. I reach forward and take his hand again, squeeze it gently and nod. Before I bend down to remove my shoes, I catch a glimpse of the smile I remember. The smile that flashes in my memories. The smile that lured me in when I was fourteen.

I park in my driveway and grab my purse and shoes from the passenger seat before getting out. My thoughts swim and swirl and blend together. Old memories of Gavin and me. Happy memories. Memories I will never forget.

Once inside, I add food to Luna’s bowl and pet her a few times before heading for my bedroom. I toss my shoes in the closet and strip off my dress, heading for the shower. The walk on the beach with Gavin was wonderful, but I need to wash the sticky beach air and sand off my skin.

With a towel wrapped around my torso, I dig through my dresser and grab a pair of boy shorts and a tank top. Clad in my nightwear, I plop down on my bed and flick on the television, scanning Netflix for something to watch. I pick a random movie, which ends up becoming background noise to my racing mind.

A pair of warm hands cover my eyes, too large to belong to any girl I know. His hot breath on my ear sends a chill down my spine. My breath hitches and my heart beats as if it will never have the chance after today.

“Guess who…” his whisper like sun and thunder and a bolt of lightning to my heart.

“Hmm…” I toy with him. “I can’t be sure. Jake?” I tease.

His hands rip from my eyes, the bright light instantly returns and makes me squint. “Who?” He spins me around and hugs me so tight I can’t speak.

“Nope, not Jake,” I joke again.

“Who the hell is Jake?” he asks, defensive.

I love it when he becomes possessive. “I don’t know. Just made up the name to mess with you. Of course I knew it was you.” Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I press a kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” he mumbles, but the grumpy doesn’t leave his face. We are about to turn the corner in the hallway when he lifts me up and hoists me over his shoulder, fireman-style. Everyone at their lockers starts laughing at the spectacle. And it is most definitely a spectacle.

Because as he is walking down the hall with me over his shoulder, I am smacking his ass and kicking my feet in the air, begging for him to put me down. It wouldn’t shock me if this scene floods the internet once it ends.

As we walk out the double doors, his stride grows faster and more urgent. He stops next to a big oak—our tree—and sets me on the ground, smacking my ass for good measure.

“Gavin! Why did you do that? That was so embarrassing.” It