Read Rising Tides for Free Online Page A

head still hurts.”
    The frown faded from Tyler’s face, and he leaned back in the chair as I slowly sat up.  Once upright, I waited for the disorientation, but it vanished along with the fog in my head.   I looked out the window and spied the setting sun.
    “I need a breath of air,” I said, standing.  Tyler leaned forward again as I moved away from the couch.  Every muscle in his body tightened as though he were a football player about to receive a pass.  He expected me to stumble.  Instead, I walked out the door and stood on the deck, staring at a fused pink and sherbet sky reflected by the ocean calm.
    For at least an hour I watched the light flicker and die, trailing strands of gold as it passed.  At some point, Tyler must have come outside, but I didn’t notice, not until the sky started darkening.  Only then did I turn and see him standing close to the back door with his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets.
    I quickly searched the lines of his face, expecting to see the latitudes of sympathy.  Instead, I saw only the corners of his mouth lift slightly.  “What’s so funny?” I asked.
    He walked to the spot next to me and leaned over the wooden rail.  “I’d never seen anyone watch a sunset so closely.  You were so still.  It’s like you were memorizing it or something.”
    I watched the last trails of gold flicker and ebb from the sky. “I was.”
    He rested on his forearms, lowering his head so it was even with mine.  As he leaned forward, I saw a simple strand of leather with a shell dangling from his neck.  I reached out and scooped it in my left hand.  “What is this?” I asked, touching the flat, round shell.  Our faces were inches apart.  I could feel his breath whispering across my cheek.
    “A sand dollar.  It’s like my rabbit’s foot.  Good luck.”
    I stroked the smooth surface, tracing the small holes in it.  “Did you find it here?”
    He shook his head.  “No, my sister found it a long time ago.  She knew I collected shells and gave it to me.”
    I released it.  “Your sister,” I repeated.  “Was that the teenager in all those pictures?  The redhead?”
    Tyler straightened, nodding.  “Yeah.  That’s Alicia.”  He tapped his finger on the railing.
    “She’s beautiful.”
    Tyler leaned upright and nodded.  “Yeah, she was.  Probably would have driven every guy around her nuts if she hadn’t died a year ago.”
    I watched his face, searching for the lines and shadows of pain.  His blue eyes watched the waves roll onward.  “I’m so--”
    “Don’t be,” he interrupted, shaking his head.  “I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to feel sorry for me.  I told you because you asked.”  He lifted his hand and raked it through his hair.  “I think I’ve had quite enough people tell me they were sorry who didn’t even know my sister.”  He looked at my face and saw confusion in my expression.  “Now look who’s saying all the wrong things.  I didn’t mean to sound like an ogre.  My family’s got a lot of connections.  Hell, at the gathering for the funeral there were so many strangers I had trouble finding my own family because of all the people.  There’s a big difference between someone genuinely understanding your pain and somebody who pities you because of it.”
    The whole time he spoke, he focused on the ocean, as though trying to hold onto the consistency each wave brought.  Another one would always be coming.  Pity?  He doesn’t want me to pity him.   I could have laughed out loud would it not have been such poor timing.  “I don’t feel pity, Tyler—and you do have a point.  It’s kind of useless for someone to say they’re sorry after all; they didn’t cause her death, and they can’t take it back.”
    Tyler lifted his hand and set it on mine.  The even line of his mouth shifted into a grin.  “It’s nice to know somebody understands how I feel.”  His fingers squeezed my hand slightly.
    I