Every Tomorrow Read online

  She’s getting under my skin and I have no idea what I should do about it.

  “Adorable,” someone mumbles. An old woman with wispy blonde hair in a Hawaiian shirt and turquoise shorts grins at me. “Your wife?”

  I shake my head.

  “Oh.” Her eyebrows fly to her hairline. I don’t want to know what she’s imagining.

  Amaya sleeps for the duration of the trip and wakes a few minutes before we dock. She jumps with a start and slants me an accusing look like I’m the one who forced her head on top of me.

  “What happened?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” I grimace as I move my shoulder. “What’s your head made of? A boulder?”

  She presses a hand to her flattened curls. “That bad?”

  “I think I might need a new shoulder.”

  “Sorry.” Amaya reaches out and massages my arm. “I was working on a song all night yesterday and lost track of time.” She covers her mouth with a yawn. “You should have woken me up.”

  I pause. “You write songs?”

  “I sing them too.” She stands along with the rest of the tourists and stretches. “I told you that yesterday. Not that it matters. Are you ready?”

  “For what?”

  She slaps her sunshades on her nose and grins. “Fun.”

  I chuckle and follow Amaya through the boat. We move quickly since we don’t have any luggage to collect and jump unto the pier.

  The beauty of San Pedro takes my breath away. Since we were sitting inside on the ride here, I wasn’t paying much attention to the sea. But there’s no running from the view now.

  Cerulean waters spread out as far as the eye can see. A sandy stretch is bordered by a host of colorful huts. Coconut trees wave lazily on the beach and bushes filled with fragrant, tropical blooms abound.

  “It’s… gorgeous.”

  “Right?” Amaya finishes the word with a little squeal. “Let’s eat first and then go play.”

  I follow Amaya to a breezy hut where we enjoy traditional rice and beans with stew chicken and fried plantain. The fragrance of the food doesn’t rouse my appetite, but the moment I take my first bite I end up cleaning my plate.

  After lunch, Amaya drags me to the beach. We frolic in the water, wading in as far as we dare without actually diving in. I laugh until it feels like my spleen will fall out of my side.

  Despite our care, we’re still drenched by the time we drag ourselves out of the water and collapse on the beach. Amaya sits next to me, her eyes shining brighter than the white-capped waves.

  I stare at her, overwhelmed by a feeling I can’t name. There’s no way I’ll remember this moment tomorrow, but for the first time I desperately want to.

  Chapter Ten

  Amaya

  “Hold that pose.” I whip my phone out and snap a picture of Kent before he can move. He smiles when he sees what I’m doing and I capture that moment too.

  I admire the photos, running my fingers across the screen. Kent is digging his pale fingers into the sand. His flushed cheeks bunch beneath the wrinkles fanning out of his eyes. The sunlight picks up the gold in his irises and in his hair.

  “You photograph really well.”

  “Me?” He points to his chest.

  “As you can see, I’m gorgeous in real life.” I toss my head theatrically and run my fingers through my curly hair. That earns a laugh from Kent. I glance at him and sheepishly admit, “But my face is too flat. It doesn’t translate in photos.”

  “Let’s prove it.” Kent grabs his phone and takes a picture of me.

  “No!” I squeal, rushing to cover my face.

  “Too late.” He turns the phone around. “I got you.”

  I squeal and launch myself at him, struggling to get control of the phone.

  Kent is stronger and longer than me. He leans back and stretches his arm high. Determined to grab the phone, I scramble over him, pushing myself up in the sand.

  Suddenly, Kent stops laughing.

  I look his way and realize he’s staring at me. Right at me. He’s so close I can see every fleck of green in his eyes. The tiny freckles fanning across his cheeks. The small mole beside his nose.

  My heart slows and then quickens. He smells like the wind and the sea and the sun all rolled up into one. I should ease off him, but I can’t move. Can’t think.

  “Uh…” Kent glances to the side. “I’ll delete it if you want, but it’s really not that bad.”

  I crawl away from him, hoping he interprets the flush climbing beneath my brown cheeks as sunburn. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Awkwardness descends as we look at anything but each other.

  Finally, I turn to him and pretend my heart didn’t just tremble because he caught my eye. “I’ll send these photos to you so even if you don’t remember today, you’ll have something to remind you.”

  “Thank you.” The words are soft, quiet, but I can feel them. Somehow, my paltry idea of snapping a few photos means the world to Kent Barton.

  “Yeah. No problem.” I climb to my feet. “We should get going or we’ll miss our flight.”

  His eyebrows form a V. “What flight?”

  “We’re taking an airplane out of here.”

  “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “Why? Are you scared of planes?”

  “No.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “We don’t have our passports.”

  I chuckle. “Kent, we’re not leaving the country. We’re taking a plane back to the city. I have a connection at one of the airlines so we can get a seat at a really good deal, but we have to hurry.” I tilt my head. “Were you going to follow me out of the country without question?”

  He looks flustered. “Not exactly.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Didn’t you say we had to hurry?” Kent clears his throat and gestures toward the boardwalk. “After you.”

  I choose to go the high road and let him off the hook.

  We grab a golf cart to the airport and hop off right in front of the entrance of the terminal. The building is usually crawling with tourists but, this late in the afternoon, it’s empty.

  I walk inside and head straight for the counter. The man fumbling behind it has dark skin and big brown eyes that brighten the moment he sees me.

  “Amaya!” James Brown almost jumps over the counter in his excitement. He changes his mind at the last minute and waddles around it instead. “What you doing here, girl?”

  I nod to Kent. “This is my friend Kent Barton. This is Papa James, my late grandmother’s common-law husband.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Kent shakes his hand.

  Papa James widens his eyes and then leans in to whisper, “You realize your boyfriend is white, Amaya?”

  “I said we were just friends,” I grumble. “And yes, I’m aware.”

  Papa James arches an eyebrow and straightens. “Well, you’re just in time for my last flight. You got any bags?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Right this way.”

  Kent glances at me. I wince in apology as we follow Papa James to the strip.

  “You’re not offended, right?” I ask him.

  “Offended by what?”

  “The comment about being white…”

  “I am white.” Kent shrugs. “Amaya, relax. I’m fine.”

  “Papa James can be a little blunt, but he’s got a good heart. He’s a very talented pilot. Flies all around the world—but he loves Europe. He’s always there when he’s not working.”

  Kent opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Papa James waves wildly, indicating that we should get in.

  I shuffle inside the airplane and buckle up.

  “How do you do this?” Kent grumbles, struggling with the seatbelt.

  “Everything okay back there?” Papa James asks.

  “Fine.” I wave him away and then lean over Kent, ignoring the way my body responds to being so near him. “It’s easy. Just—” I
clasp the belt, “do it like that.”

  Kent stares at me with a smirk. “Is that your move? You bring guys up here and try to seduce them?”

  I snort. “You’re crazy.”

  Papa James glances back at us. “Just friends, my backfoot.”

  “Hey!”

  His crackling laughter merges with the throttle of the engine as the plane starts and lifts off. All thoughts flee my mind as I enjoy the aerial view of Belize. The Caribbean Sea is a crystal clear blue with an orange sheen thanks to the sunset.

  Kent’s eyes are glued to the window the entire fifteen-minute trip back to the city. When Papa James lands, he looks disappointed. “Is it over already?”

  “It’s faster to fly than take a boat,” I explain. “Since your rental car is at the dealership, we’ll pick it up before they close.”

  “Oh, right.” He leans in. “When can we fly again?”

  Papa James turns around and points to Kent. “I like this one.”

  Kent smirks again. “Thank you for the ride, sir.”

  “Anytime.”

  Kent climbs out of the plane first and then helps me out. We wave at Uncle James. He acknowledges us with a nod but stays behind to deal with the plane.

  The drive back to my place is quiet but not uncomfortable. I feel myself growing sleepy again and rest my eyes, listening to the wheels turning against the pavement.

  Every so often, Kent stops and asks for directions. I make sure he’s heading the right way before dozing off again.

  When the car stops, I peek one eye open and see that we’re at my place. Kent turns to me, his face cast in the shadows of the night. “We’re here.”

  “Yeah.” I yawn and smile at him. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “I had a great time today, Amaya.”

  “So did I.”

  He clears his throat. “If I… happen to meet you on the street and don’t recognize you, would you introduce yourself anyway?”

  “I’ll even show you pictures.”

  His smile is bittersweet. One hand reaches out and cups my jaw. My breath hitches. I’m falling into his eyes, melting beneath their intensity.

  Kent’s thumb brushes my cheek, soft as a butterfly’s kiss. “If things were different, I’d ask you on another date. A real one.”

  “If things were different, I’d say yes.”

  I mean that. Kent is holding himself back because of his amnesia, but even if he were whole, I wouldn’t allow myself to date him.

  I’ve been lying to him since we first met. There’s no way he would just shrug that off if he found out and I’m not cold enough to keep deceiving him just because there’s an attraction between us.

  “Goodbye, Kent.”

  “Goodbye, Amaya.”

  I should get out of the car, but I can’t. My heart knows that Kent is special, a one-in-a-million type of man who would honor, commit to and respect the woman he loves. I’m shutting the door on something that could change my life.

  But I have to.

  For Tyron.

  “Something wrong?” Kent asks.

  I lean over and press my lips against his cheek. It’s a whisper-soft touch and I don’t linger. Falling back into my chair, I smile timidly. “I… didn’t want to leave without doing that.”

  Kent goes still. Then he reaches out, tilts my head up by the chin and plants his lips on my mouth. His lips are firm. Warm. I taste salt on his skin. My eyes fall closed. My heart thunders and all my senses drown in this moment.

  When he pulls back, I see a smile on Kent’s face. “I couldn’t leave without doing that either.”

  My throat dry and my pulse still pounding in my ears, I turn around and climb out of the car. Kent doesn’t drive off until I walk up the porch and open the door.

  I stumble inside, still riding the high from his sweet kiss. A man has never been so tender with me. My past boyfriends skipped first-kiss etiquette and went for tongue and boob-grasping immediately.

  Maybe this is the difference between dating a man and dating a boy.

  Or maybe I had questionable taste in men before.

  A light snaps on and I scream when I see two women in my living room. I scream even harder when I recognize Zora and Diandra.

  Dee strides over to me and slaps a hand over my mouth. “Girl, didn’t you see us sitting there?”

  “Obviously not,” I snap, my words muffled beneath her palm.

  She drops her arm and steps back. Her eyes are narrowed. “Why does your face look like that?”

  “Like what?” I mumble, ducking my head and trying to run past her.

  Zora steps in my way. “Like you got smacked in the head by a falling coconut.”

  “What?” Both Diandra and I stare at Zora in confusion.

  She moves her finger in a circle. “It means you look cray-cray.”

  “Okay…” I wrinkle my nose and then turn and glare at my best friend. “Dee, I gave you that spare key for emergencies, not so you and Zora could strike an ambush.”

  “This is an emergency. Who were you with just now? Kent?”

  “That’s none of your business.”

  Zora narrows her eyes. She’s still wearing her blue nursing scrubs and her long hair is pulled back in a ponytail so I can see every inch of disapproval on her face. “I couldn’t believe Diandra when she told me you were going out with Kent. Do you have any idea what that means?”

  “It means we were going to spend the day together.”

  “Where did you go?”

  “Again,” I clench my jaw, “that’s none of your business.”

  “Amaya, we’re just trying to help.”

  “I understand and appreciate that, Dee, but I’m a grown woman. Besides… I won’t be seeing Kent again.”

  Zora blinks, her jaw falling. “You’re not?”

  “No.”

  Diandra immediately shifts into supportive-best-friend mode. She rushes over and rubs my back. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You made the right choice.” She leans over. “What we did that night could get us all in trouble—”

  “I could lose my job,” Zora offers, like we didn’t already know that.

  Diandra drops her hand, her voice back to its usual, chirpy tone. “I guess I was freaking out over nothing.”

  “Now that we’ve established the truth, can you both see yourselves out? It’s been a long day and I’m kind of tired.”

  “Of course.” Diandra scrambles for the door.

  Zora follows her but stops on the porch to slap my shoulder. “Good job, Amaya. It was a stupid idea to see him again, but it worked out so I’m not going to hold it against you.”

  “I’m overwhelmed by your graciousness.”

  Zora preens and walks off.

  I close the door, lingering in the silence. I’ve only known Kent for a short time. It should be easy to get over him. Either way, I know for certain that by tomorrow, he’ll forget all about me.

  Chapter Eleven

  Kent

  Sunlight streams through the windows, tiptoeing over my bed and striking my face. I roll on my side to escape it, but the light is relentless. My eyes burst open, and I stare at an unfamiliar ceiling.

  I shoot up. Glance around. Struggle to remember where I am or why I’m here. My mind is blank. Why can’t I remember?

  Panic twines around my heart like barbwire. My chest heaves.

  Out. I’ve got to get out. I have to find something or someone that’s familiar. That makes sense.

  I grab the blanket and tear it off, swinging my legs over the side of the bed in an effort to escape.

  Then my eyes land on the nightstand where a paper is stuck to the lamp. It says ‘Read This’. I recognize my handwriting and glance down to find a leather-bound journal sitting beneath the sign.

  My fingers brush over the cover of the journal. The texture and weight of the book is familiar in my hands even though I have no recollection of writing in it. I definitely don’t rem
ember writing that sign.

  Desperate for answers, I flip through the book and start from the beginning, reading all the way up to the journal entry from the day before. My mind doesn’t connect with anything in the book.

  Well, except for her.

  Amaya.

  The moment I read her name, every thought slams to a stop. There’s no panic, no scramble to search for memories that aren’t there. I can’t describe it, but whatever or whoever she is… I know she’s special.

  My heart speeds up as I read through the lines of text describing my day with her. Frustration mounts while I battle a growing sense of familiarity.

  Amaya.

  I can’t picture her face or anything we did together, but the memories are struggling to escape. It’s like having a word dangle on the tip of the tongue.

  My heart knows even if my head won’t tell me. She’s important. I’m certain.

  “Who is she?” I whisper to my empty room. “How do I find her?”

  A loud ring disturbs the quiet. I glance around, caught off guard until I spot the telephone sitting on the second nightstand. My head’s too full right now so I ignore the noise.

  Unfortunately, the phone keeps blaring. I snap it up and let my annoyance linger beneath my voice. “Hello?”

  “Mr. Barton, sir? I’m so sorry to bother you. There’s a man downstairs insisting he needs to see you.”

  “A man?”

  “He says his name is Wilson.” Cloth rustles in the background and the phone crackles. The woman’s voice echoes from a distance. “No, sir. You can’t just… give the phone back.” A moment later, a booming bass fills my ears. “Kent, tell these kind people to let me up.”

  I blink in surprise. “Wilson?”

  “In the flesh.” There’s scuffling in the background and then Will comes on again, sounding breathless. “I have to go, Kent. How about you come downstairs real quick before security carts me away?”

  There’s a click and then the dial tone blares in my ear.

  I slip on my sneakers and rush to the elevator. My finger slams the button, but nothing happens. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, I head for the emergency stairs instead.