It's July 15th, 2022, and Sarah Walker has finally scored her dream job—working with dolphins at the Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute. Socially awkward and academically driven, Sarah's never found love—but when she meets a tech genius whose inventions have the chance to make her research a reality, she finds herself falling for him. Together, their work could change the world … that is, unless someone else gets hold of it first.

Disclaimer: We don't own Chuck…

Chapter 12: Sympathetic Vibrations

"Wow." Sarah only meant to whisper it—but Chuck still heard her, somehow. He spun around, his mouth falling open when he saw her standing there. He looked shocked … because of what had just happened between him and Eden? Because Sarah had managed to track him down at the Aquarium—a lucky accident? Because he'd half-expected her to abandon their dinner plans in favor of hanging out with Bryce?

Whatever the reason, he seemed to be at a loss for words—as was Sarah. She stared at him; he stared right back; the small crowd of people gathered in front of the tank stared at them both.

The fact that he'd gone to see the dolphins when he was upset, just like she had … maybe it was more than just coincidence. Sarah wasn't a big believer in fate, but maybe it was the universe telling them they were meant to be together—as if meeting each other on the beach and then connecting again at MBARI hadn't been enough.

Well, if the universe was trying to send Sarah a message, she'd gotten it, loud and clear … but just because Chuck was standing in front of her didn't mean she knew what to say to make things right.

She'd never been very good with words. On paper, sure—writing funding proposals or co-authoring journal articles—but when it came to telling someone how much they meant to her, she was way out of her depth. She usually thought of the perfect thing to say much, much later … driving home, in the shower, during those hazy moments before she fell asleep. But as soon as Chuck walked away at MBARI, she knew exactly what she should have said. She should've stood up for him when Bryce picked on his work, should've shown Bryce the door regardless of his funding offer and just dealt with the fallout from Diane…

She'd wanted nothing more than to chase after Chuck and explain, or at least show him how she really felt, even if she couldn't find the words—but she didn't trust what Bryce might do if she left him alone in her lab. Instead, as soon as Chuck's footsteps had faded, she'd whirled on her ex, seething.

"You need to leave," she'd said. "Now."

He'd raised a quizzical eyebrow. "You're pissed at me because I offered to fund your project and take you out for drinks?"

Typical Bryce—always missing the point … or spinning a situation to omit anything that might imply wrongdoing on his part. "No. I'm pissed at you because you kept touching me, even though I've made it painfully clear that I don't want your hands—or the rest of you—anywhere near me. I'm pissed because you stood there and insulted Chuck's work—the work that you were supposedly so interested in that you dropped everything and drove two hours to see it. And I'm pissed because you implied that we still have some kind of relationship, distant or otherwise—and gave the guy I like more than anyone I've met in a long, long time … present company included … the wrong idea."

Bryce scrunched up his face. It was not an attractive look. "Come on, Sarah. You and Bartowski? That gangly, overstretched nerd…"

"You say 'nerd' like it's a bad thing." She balled her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "The people working for you—you know, the ones whose coattails you've been riding all these years—are all nerds. I'm a nerd, in case you haven't noticed."

He had the decency to drop his gaze. "Yeah, but you … you're …" He waved a hand in her direction, encompassing all of her, from head to toe.

An angry flush heated her cheeks. "Are you saying that I'm different because of my looks? You are the shallowest, most narcissistic man I've ever met!"

Bryce took a tentative step forward, palms outstretched. "I'm not saying that. Of course I think you're beautiful, but that's not what I meant. Or not all of it, anyway. You're gorgeous. Brilliant. The whole package. Someone I was always proud to have on my arm. After all these years, I still haven't been able to forget …" He shook his head. "It was so stupid, what I did—what happened with Amy. But I was young and confused. I didn't know how to deal with my feelings for you. They scared me, if you want to know the truth. But I'm not scared anymore."

It was her turn to shake her head. "For God's sake, Bryce … just be honest with me, for once in your life. You didn't come all this way because you were interested in Chuck's tech—or my project—did you? You're here because you wanted to see if you could find a way to win me back."

"I know I've gone about it all wrong. You never cared about my money—not like some other people I've been with. All you ever wanted was me … I know that now. Well, here I am." He peered at her hopefully. "I'll take back the funding offer if it bothers you—if that'll help. I just thought … if I could somehow help you with your research … you might be willing to spend some time with me. And if you did—you'd see how much I've changed. Maybe then you'd give us another chance."

Sarah couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I'm sorry, Bryce, but ever since meeting Chuck, that ship has sailed. Plus … I don't date cheaters. Not after my father…" She choked off that line of thought before it could go any further. Whatever she'd shared with him before was fair game—but he didn't deserve any more insights into her heart or mind. "Look, whatever happened between us … it's in the past, where it will remain. If you really care about me, you'll march your ass out that door and abandon any notion of us ever getting back together." Hands on her hips, she stared him down. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find my 'nerd' and try to repair some of the damage your unsolicited, unwanted presence has caused."

Bryce looked chastened, all of the arrogance bleeding out of him. "If that's what you want." His voice was as small as she'd ever heard it.

"It is." She forced herself to meet his eyes, to dismiss the rising tide of empathy that had begun to flood through her. Her mother had taken her dad back again and again, no matter how many times he'd gambled away their savings or come home drunk, smelling like another woman's perfume. Every time, he'd promise to change—and every time, once her mom gave in, he'd go right back to pulling the same old shit. Sarah had promised herself long ago that whatever mistakes she made, that wouldn't be one of them. It was emblazoned on her psyche: Never trust a cheater—in cards or in life.

She'd loved this man, once. She'd been willing to give him everything. But he'd thrown it all away—and for what? She didn't owe him a goddamn thing.

Bryce must have seen the truth on her face. "Okay," he said, and turned to leave. By a miracle, he didn't argue or try to persuade her any further—his usual MO. She didn't want to contemplate what that meant … either he really did still have feelings for her, or he was biding his time, devising a different strategy.

Right now, it didn't matter. The end result was the same: He was gone.

As Sarah waited for his footsteps to die away—as much as she wanted to leave, she had no intention of giving Bryce the chance to continue their conversation—she considered calling Chuck's cell. She pulled her phone out of her purse, about to dial … then changed her mind. It would be all too easy for him to dismiss her that way. She needed to talk to him in person, to explain … to tell him all the ways in which he was different from Bryce, why she'd come to care about him so much in such a short period of time…

What had her douchey ex said, before she'd given him the boot? You're gorgeous. Brilliant … Someone I was always proud to have on my arm. That was the heart of it, right there … for him, it had always been about her looks first and her mind second. He'd thought of her as arm candy that offered the potential for scientific notoriety. The moment the new-car smell had worn off their relationship—and he'd deemed her research unworthy of his time—he'd dumped her in the most painful way possible. Chuck would never do such a thing … she knew that in her heart.

God, she hated that she'd hurt him—even if it was unintentional. She hadn't known him long, but she could tell what a genuinely kind person he was—good, to his very core. Talking to him, getting to know him—it felt like coming home. He'd belonged in her house, at her kitchen table, in the other rocking chair on her porch. Spending time with him was comfortable, easy—but it was also invigorating. His intelligence was always simmering just beneath the surface, making connections, thinking things through … and when they talked, he brought that laser focus to bear on her. No one had ever made her feel so important, like what she said really mattered. Then there was his generosity, spending so much of his time and money on her project … getting her that gorgeous painting … and that spine-tingling kiss …

Oh, the hell with Bryce. She'd grabbed her phone and fled the lab, only stopping long enough to lock the door behind her. Once she was behind the wheel of her Jeep with the engine running, she took a deep breath—and realized she had no idea where to find Chuck. She didn't know where he and his sister were staying, and if he had a favorite haunt nearby, she had no clue where that might be.

She'd have to call him after all.

Squaring her shoulders, she dialed his number. It rang … and rang … and rang—then went to voicemail. To her chagrin, Sarah left what had to be the most awkward message possible: "Hey Chuck. It's me. Sarah. I, um, I'm really sorry about what happened—you know, with Bryce and everything. If you'd just call me back, I can explain. I know that's what people always say, that they can explain, but in this case I really can. It wasn't what it looked like, at all … Oh, God, I guess that's another thing people say, isn't it? But in this case, it's true. Ugh. Just—please call me back. Okay? I'm hanging up now…"

Horrified, she'd pressed 'end call'—and then sat there, at a total loss. What was she supposed to do—just wait until he called her … which, based on the way he'd stormed out of MBARI, seemed highly unlikely? Sit and stew until she saw him tomorrow in the lab—if he even showed up?

She slammed her hand against the steering wheel in frustration—succeeding only in bruising her palm and honking the horn. A few stragglers in the parking lot swiveled to look at her, and, humiliated, she sank down in her seat.

What the hell should she do now? Was there even the slightest chance that Chuck was going to show up at her house at seven—should she just go home and wait for him?

She couldn't do that. She'd go crazy.

Only one option came to mind. She'd do what she always did when she felt upset and off-kilter … go see the dolphins and try to center herself.

The more she thought about it, the more it felt like the perfect choice to calm the maelstrom in her head … and her heart. As much as she'd wanted Chuck and Laszlo to make progress on their project, she'd missed seeing baby Eden today. Lou had sent her a couple of pictures, and she'd glanced at the video feeds a few times through Chuck's app, but it wasn't the same. She wanted to see the little dolphin in person. Beyond that, spending time with Echo, Eden, and Finn rejuvenated her and reminded her of what really mattered. There was something about the purity of their interactions that put the petty drama of daily life in its place—and today, she'd had more than her fair share.

Resolved, she drove towards the Aquarium with the windows down, letting the salty air fill her lungs. As always, knowing the ocean was nearby filled her with a pervasive sense of peace. Somehow, this would work out—it had to. She'd spend a few minutes with the dolphins, and then she'd figure out how to find Chuck. Maybe if she called him again, he'd see how serious she was about trying to get in touch with him and answer. But she wasn't going to do that until she was in a calmer frame of mind.

By the time she parked the car and walked towards the doors of the Aquarium, she'd done her best to pull herself together. There were just a few minutes left before they closed; she'd put up with the public for a little while, and then she'd have some much-needed quiet time with her beloved animals.

Chelsea, the redhead who worked the ticket kiosk, waved her through. As she stepped into the Aquarium, its unmistakable scent of pine air freshener, seawater, and the French fries from the café settled over her like a security blanket. Under any other circumstances, she would've found the combined aromas off-putting—but here, they acted like a panacea.

As she passed by the security desk, heading for the elevator that would take her to the third floor, Milton smiled at her. "Hey, Sarah. He's been waiting for you."

Sarah froze. "He—who?" Surely Bryce hadn't stalked her all the way here. That would be a little much—even for him.

Milton's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Chuck, of course. Who'd you think I meant?"

"Chuck's … here?" Elation, tempered by apprehension, bubbled up inside her.

"Sure is. I did a pass-through just a few minutes ago—he went to see your dolphins. Last I saw, he was by the second-story tank." He frowned. "Not to get all up in your business, as my granddaughter Jules would say—but did something happen between the two of you? Because he seemed … off. Not quite himself."

Milton didn't miss much. Swallowing hard, Sarah forced herself to meet his eyes. "Yeah. I made a stupid mistake. I should've said something before ... I didn't mean…" She trailed off, at a loss. The last thing she felt like doing was explaining Bryce to Milton.

The security guard placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I thought he seemed upset. But that's what I told him … that whatever happened between you two, it was most likely just a big misunderstanding."

Sarah's eyes widened, and he hastened to reassure her. "Don't worry, he didn't give me any details. That's not his style. But don't stand here jawing with me, young lady—go tell him that yourself." He softened his suggestion with a smile.

If most people had called Sarah 'young lady,' she would've found it condescending and patronizing—but coming from him, it sounded like a term of endearment. "I will," she'd said, straightening her spine. "Thank you, Milton."

She'd gone up the stairs, taking them two at a time—and arrived to find Chuck playing follow-the-leader with Eden, surrounded by a mesmerized crowd that was enjoying the impromptu show. For a few minutes, all she could do was watch as the little dolphin mimicked his every move. And when their staring contest finally ended and Eden swam away, she hadn't been able to help herself. She'd whispered, "Wow," like an entranced kid at a magic show.

That's what it had felt like to her, watching them interact—like magic. Chuck had no experience as a trainer and Eden knew no commands. Yet, somehow—for the second time—the two of them had connected in a way that transcended logic or explanation … and it touched Sarah's heart in the deepest of ways.

This little dolphin—a baby who'd been in the world for less than forty-eight hours—was pure of soul. Clearly, Eden had seen the same in Chuck … just further proof, as if Sarah needed any, that this man was special. Sarah would be damned if she'd let that slip through her fingers.

He was still staring at her, as if he wasn't sure she was real. She took one step toward him, another—and then she was running, launching herself at him. His hands came up to catch her just as she careened into him. She stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed him for all she was worth.

For a moment his lips were still against hers, unmoving. Then he kissed her back, with such enthusiasm that he lifted her off her feet. The electricity that had arced between them the night before was still there, intensifying every time their lips touched. She breathed in, drowning in his scent—soap and salt and the underlying, alluring fragrance that was just Chuck. Her heart pounded and her head swam and she never wanted to let him go.

Then a sound intruded into their little bubble—the crowd, cheering. With a growing sense of horror, Sarah realized that she was standing in the middle of her place of employment, wrapped around a man who—for all intents and purposes—was a consultant, making a scene. Embarrassed, she stiffened in Chuck's arms, and he let her go, setting her back down on her feet.

The moment her sandals touched the ground, she started apologizing. "Chuck, I'm so sorry. That was unconscionable and I … well, I had no idea Bryce was going to show up, but that's no excuse. I should have kicked him out right away, but he took me by surprise and then—"

Chuck interrupted her before she could finish. "No, Sarah, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have left like that. I just—when I saw you with him, I thought … he seemed to know you really well, and I just assumed—but you know what they say about assuming …"

She put a finger on his lips, shushing him. "We need to continue this conversation. But—" She glanced at the crowd, most of whom were still regarding the two of them as if they were a fascinating animal exhibit. "Not here."

He cast a desperate look around, then grimaced. "Yes, please," he said, lowering his voice. "For the love of God, not here. I think we've entertained these people quite enough for one day. Not that I'm complaining, because that was—no one's ever—but still…"

A smile lifting her lips for the first time since Bryce Larkin had darkened the doorway of her lab, she dragged him away from the dolphins' tank, down the stairs, past Milton—who gave them a knowing look—and out the front door.

Once they were outside, though, Sarah felt uncertain all over again. When she was in Chuck's arms, kissing him, everything seemed perfect—as if nothing could go wrong between them. But now, reality had set in. She had a lot to say, and she hoped he'd be willing to listen.

They were still holding hands, and she clutched his tighter, not wanting to let go. "Um," she said, feeling shy, "I want to talk to you about what I just saw—what happened between you and Eden. It was amazing—I've never seen anything like that. But first … more importantly … do you want to take a walk?"

He looked down at her, his dark eyes full of an expression she couldn't quite decipher. "Sure," he said at last. "That sounds great."

"We could go to McAbee Beach. It's just a little ways from here. I go there sometimes after work … when I want to think …"

He readjusted his grip on her hand, and Sarah wondered if maybe he didn't want to let go, either. "Lead the way."

So she did—turning left onto Cannery Row and then walking a few short blocks past the restaurants, shops, and tourist traps. When they reached Ghirardelli—their ice cream was one of Sarah's guilty pleasures—she turned left again, taking them toward the ocean and the small strip of sand.

McAbee wasn't much to look at—rocks jutted from the sand and into the water, and the backdrop was unromantic, comprised of the Fish Hopper restaurant and other assorted Cannery Row buildings—but the incomparable view of the rolling Pacific made up for everything else. Choosing a spot as far away from the couples and families that mobbed the beach as she could manage, Sarah tugged Chuck down next to her on the sand, then turned to face him.

"I need to apologize to you," she said.

"Sarah—"

"No, please let me finish." She took both of his hands in hers, reveling in the way his touch already felt so familiar. She could feel the callouses on his fingertips, maybe from working with the Intersect's components, and the roughness of a small cut on his palm. "Chuck, you showed up at the worst possible time. Yes, I was touching Bryce when you got there, and I'm sure it must've looked awful. But that's only because I was in the midst of shoving his entitled ass … and threatening a close encounter between my knee and his balls." She offered him a tentative smile.

Chuck looked troubled. "Sarah, you don't owe me anything."

"Yes, Chuck, I do. I really, really do. You've been nothing but kind to me—beyond kind. Generous, thoughtful, compassionate … God, I could go on, but I'm already sounding like a Hallmark card."

He winced. "If this is your way of trying to let me down easy, it's unnecessary. I'm not helping you because I want something from you. I'm helping you because seeing you happy … makes me happy."

His admission floored her. But the rest of it … She let go of one of his hands to smack him on the shoulder. "Are you really this dense? Do you think I kiss people like I just kissed you when I'm trying to let them down easy?"

Chuck's lips curved upward. "I don't know you that well, Sarah. But I've got to say that if that kiss was your way of letting me down easy, then I'm a little terrified of how you might kiss me if you were … well … interested."

She smiled back—she couldn't help it. "I should've defended you when Bryce was trying to belittle your work. I hate myself that I didn't. But the thing is, you don't know him like I do. If I'd told him how incredible I think you are—how I could listen to you all day, trying to figure out how your mind works—how brilliant I think your inventions are—how the only thing I like better than your brain is your big, beautiful heart … well, then he would've just become more determined to outdo you. That's how he is—who he is. So I didn't say anything. But the moment you left, I regretted it. You looked so upset … and I don't blame you."

"Sarah—" he tried again.

"I'm not done yet. I should've told you about him in the first place, when I showed you DolphinSpeak's website. And I definitely should've told you this morning, when you said you'd called John Reid. But I—well, the thing is, I just…"

Her gaze dropped to the sand between them. Gently, he lifted her chin.

"You what?" he said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I promise I'll never judge you. If it has to do with past relationships … God knows I don't have a leg to stand on in that department."

The openness in his expression gave her the courage to go on. "I was ashamed," she admitted. "When Bryce and I first got together—it was back in college. He really was my lab partner. And then we dated for a while. I thought we were in love, but … honestly, I don't think Bryce knows the meaning of the word. He ended up cheating on me with—" Her voice caught. After all this time, how could it still hurt so much? "With one of my best friends," she said finally. "I think that hurt even more than realizing he wasn't faithful … that he didn't feel the way I did about our relationship. I thought I could trust Amy—we were like sisters. But as it turned out, I couldn't trust either one of them. Now, I think they deserve each other … but back then, I was heartbroken."

His eyes were full of sympathy. "I'm so sorry. That sounds awful."

If she was going to share this much, she might as well tell him everything. "I know you didn't ask for my life story, but my dad—he wasn't the best role model for an naïve little girl. He left when I was seven, and we were better off when he did. He gambled … he lied … he cheated … you name it, he did it. And my mom took him back every time. Finally, he went too far, but until then—she just let him walk all over her. I promised myself I'd never do that. That one day I'd find a really great guy who'd treat me with kindness, love, and respect. I hardly dated anyone, all through high school, because I was always looking for Mr. Right. When I met Bryce, I thought I'd found him—he said and did all the right things—but it turned out that all he wanted to be was Mr. Right Now."

She searched his eyes for judgment or pity, but found none … which gave her the courage to keep going. "I was young and impressionable, Chuck—and stupid. Now, I can see how sleazy he is … how narcissistic … but back then—he swept me off my feet. It's humiliating to me that I fell for someone who, for all intents and purposes, is exactly like my father—someone whose word means nothing—after I tried so hard to do the opposite. So I didn't say anything to you. I was hoping I wouldn't have to. But then he showed up and … well."

The wind blew through her hair, ruffling it and sending shivers down her spine. She told herself that was the only reason—not because she was afraid of what Chuck was going to say when she finished. Gripping his fingers tightly, she forced herself to go on.

"Back then, I had no idea what I was doing or what I wanted out of life. After things went pear-shaped with Bryce, I threw myself into my work. It was all I did, for so long. And then I met you, and … for the first time in years, I want something more." She scanned his face, looking for his reaction—but aside from a sharp intake of breath, he didn't move or make a sound.

"I really like you, Chuck," she said, her voice barely audible, "and again, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you. I'm sorry I didn't throw him out sooner. But most of all, I'm sorry I made you doubt what I really want—which is to be with you." She forced herself to look him in the eye. "That is … if you'll have me."

OoOoOoOoO

Chuck felt like a total jackass—which was understandable, given that he'd been acting like one ever since he left MBARI. He'd let his insecurities get the best of him, rather than having faith in Sarah … who, based on the short time they'd known each other, had never given him any reason to doubt her. Instead he'd taken one look at Bryce, who was everything Chuck wasn't—smooth, classically good-looking, confident with women—and proceeded to freak the fuck out. If he'd just taken a moment to calm down and see things from her perspective—like he'd somehow managed to do when he and Eden had connected—he would've realized that she wasn't happy to see Bryce … she was horrified.

With the clarity of hindsight—especially given what she'd just told him—he could see she'd dealt with the situation the best way she knew how. Sure, she should have told him about Bryce from the start, but it wasn't like Chuck ever wanted to talk about what had gone wrong in his relationship with Jill, his college girlfriend. It was painful and embarrassing, and every time he told the story, he had to relive it—which was why he'd only ever discussed it with his sister … and Morgan, who didn't count, since that was basically like telling himself. Now here Sarah was, saying she wanted to have a real relationship with him—agonizing over making him think otherwise. It rendered him speechless.

She bit her lip, her blue eyes troubled. "Chuck, if you don't want to be with me—then just say so. I mean, it's not what I want to hear, but it'd be a lot easier than wondering what's going through your mind … if you're just trying to figure out the best way to let me down easy …"

"What?" he said in surprise, jolted into speech. "Sarah—who in their right mind wouldn't want to spend more time with you? I think you're perfect. You're compassionate and brilliant, you've got the courage to pursue a field you believe in even when other people dismiss it, you're so beautiful that I have to fight the urge to shield my eyes every time I look directly at you…"

He glanced at her, hoping this would make her smile—but instead, her eyebrows drew down and her face crumpled in what looked like disappointment. Wow, this really wasn't going well. He'd meant to compliment her, but apparently he was terrible at it.

Puzzled but determined to see this through, he barreled on. "I'm sure people tell you that all the time. And yes, you're gorgeous. But that barely scratches the surface of what I see—like the way your eyes soften when you look at Finn, Echo, and Eden, as if you can't believe how lucky you are to be spending time with them. I love the way you light up when you talk about fixing up your new house … how that little space between your eyes furrows when you're trying to figure something out"—he touched a fingertip to the spot—"and even how you knock things over when you're distracted—including me." He grinned at the memory, and saw an echoing smile on her face. Encouraged, he continued. "I love how you're better at the constellation-naming game than I am … and how when something's really important to you, sometimes you stammer, because it means so much, you're desperate not to say the wrong thing. I know why you do that—because I do it too. I love that the very first time we met, you played off my Star Wars reference without missing a beat. And I love …"

She leaned forward before he could finish his sentence and kissed him—and not a moment too soon. If she'd let him keep going, God only knew what he would've said next. It was too soon to have fallen in love with her, let alone tell her so … wasn't it?

As her tongue traced his lips, then slipped inside, he closed his eyes, breathing in the scent of the ocean and the smell of her vanilla shampoo. The noises around them—children laughing, waves crashing against the rocks—fell away. All that was left was Sarah—the warmth of her upper arms beneath his hands, the silk of her hair against his face, the addictive taste of her mouth.

When she pulled back, she was smiling. "I take it that means you're not trying to let me down," she said, running a hand through his curls, "easily or otherwise."

He shook his head, dazed. "Far from it. I owe you an apology too, Sarah. I jumped to so many conclusions and I'm really sorry. I should've given you a chance to explain rather than storming out of there like a three-year-old having a tantrum."

"It's okay," she said, and from the look on her face, he could tell that it was. "But I have to ask … why did you? I know it looked awful, but I was trying to get rid of him. And when you left—I called you, trying to explain, but you didn't pick up."

Puzzled, he fished his iPhone out of his pocket and glanced at it. "Crap. The battery must've died somewhere between the lab and the Aquarium. I promise I wasn't ignoring you. I'd never do that to you, no matter the situation." Putting his phone away, he gathered the courage for what he needed to say next. "Look, Sarah—I know what it's like to feel betrayed. You're not the only one who's had someone treat them badly. I'm ashamed to admit it, but sometimes the things I've been through make me insecure … which is what happened today."

He swallowed hard. If she could share her ugly truths, then he could be brave enough to do the same—but that didn't mean it was going to be easy or fun. Ignoring the small voice that reminded him of what had happened the last time he'd shared such personal information with a woman—Sarah and Jill were totally different people; he couldn't carry that baggage around forever—he went on. "The thing is, I, um, when I was growing up—I wasn't always the stud muffin you see before you today."

"Oh, no?" She giggled, brushing a strand of hair out of his eyes. Her fingertips lingered on his skin, sending a wave of heat through his body that persisted long after they fell away.

He plucked a small, pink shell from the sand, running his fingers over its ridged surface. "After my parents died—even before then, honestly—I didn't have a lot of friends. I was nerdy, and even more awkward than I am now, if you can imagine such a thing. I wasn't a joiner. I wasn't good at sports or acting or … anything the other kids were into. My idea of a fun Friday night was to sit at home and come up with stuff like the programming I sent to CHAT. I tried to make friends a couple times, but I just got burned…" His voice trailed off, thinking about how painful it had been to realize that the kids he'd thought wanted to hang out with him were actually just using him for help with projects and tests. "As you can probably imagine, I didn't date a lot—or at all, until I got to college. And then when I did … to say it ended badly would be an understatement."

She took his free hand, twining her fingers through his. "What happened?"

He hated talking about this. But she'd told him about Bryce—he should return the favor. "It was the beginning of my junior year," he said, eyes fixed on the shifting blues of the ocean—a hell of a lot easier than looking at her face. "I'd gone to get a coffee at the student union between classes, and I saw this girl sitting outside by herself at one of the café tables. She was pretty, and she had on these cool Lennon glasses—under normal circumstances, that would've been enough for me to chicken out. But then I saw what she was reading—The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, which, for the record, is one of my all-time favorite books. I sat down next to her, and I said, 'So, what's the answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything?' And she said …"

"Forty-two," Sarah interrupted.

Startled, Chuck turned to look at her. "God, just when I thought you couldn't get any cooler …"

She bumped his shoulder with hers. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Bartowski. Keep talking."

"Right." He tried to ignore the little flame of happiness burning ever-brighter inside him. Otherwise he'd just sit here and stare at her all day—which was vastly preferable to talking about Jill Roberts. "Well, she said she had no idea, and was that how I picked up all the girls? And I told her that if she kept reading, she'd find out … But she said that if I already knew the meaning of life, then it was just mean of me to keep it from her, and then I …" He winced, remembering. "I told her that if she went out to dinner with me that night, I'd tell her. And she said yes. I thought it was the best day of my life … but if I'd known then what I know now, I would've just kept walking."

Sarah clenched his hand tighter. "What did she do to you?" She sounded furious on his behalf.

"She was rich," he said. "From some fancy, old-money Southern family. I told her the truth about who I was, how Ellie had worked to keep the two of us together after our parents died, how I'd studied my ass off to earn a full ride to Stanford. Jill had never been poor a day in her life. Her idea of hardship was borrowing her dad's Audi when her Porsche was in the shop. At first she thought it was …. romantic, the way I'd grown up. Like a modern-day Oliver Twist or some kind of … of poet in a garret. And I let her think that. The alternative … well …" His stomach clenched as he remembered the days he and Ellie had spent scrounging for dollar bills to pay for a quart of milk or a pound of ground beef on special. "It wouldn't have been pretty. And I didn't want her to feel sorry for me."

"I get it, Chuck." Her voice was soft. "I grew up poor, too. I had a mom, but … even though she worked two jobs sometimes, it wasn't always enough. I never went without food or anything, but—getting new clothes or shoes was a big deal. Sometimes I got teased for it. I know what it's like not to want people to feel sorry for you."

When he met her eyes, he could see the empathy in them. For the first time in his life, he didn't feel like he had to hide any part of himself—who he was, where he'd come from, what he wanted. It was as if there'd been an empty space inside him all these years that was exactly her shape—and now that he'd met her, it'd been filled. He didn't feel lonely, or like an outsider, or any of the ways he'd become so used to feeling, he hardly noticed them anymore. Here, with her—as cheesy as it was, he felt complete.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, "it was all fine and dandy to have Oliver Twist for a boyfriend when she was a college student. But then we got closer to graduation, and real life was just around the corner. I bought a ring and everything. I figured that after we graduated, marriage would be the next logical step. But when I tried to propose—she broke up with me instead."

Sarah dropped his hand, appalled. "What? How could she do something like that?"

He had to grin at how pissed-off she looked—like if he gave her half a chance, she'd jump off and go charging after Jill to exact revenge. Of course, that would only be possible if Chuck had any idea where Jill actually was … which he most certainly did not. "Think of it this way. If she hadn't, you and I wouldn't be sitting here right now."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "That doesn't make it any better. Because I'm imagining that she broke up with you because—in some way—you weren't good enough for her silver-spoon-hoarding ass."

Chuck's lips twitched. "When you put it that way…"

"I'm right, aren't I?"

He shrugged. "She said her parents would never accept me—that I wouldn't fit in with them. And it was true, the couple of times I'd gone to country clubs and ski resorts and … things … with them over the holidays, I'd felt awkward as hell. But I'd tried my best … and I hadn't thought it mattered. Jill said she loved me. That she was actually happy I didn't fit into her parents' world—it was full of snobs and phonies. But I guess that was just a bunch of talk, because when she broke up with me, she said my 'future prospects just didn't measure up.'" He made air-quotes around the words. "And after that … I never saw or heard from her again."

Chuck hadn't thought it was possible for Sarah to look any angrier. He'd been wrong. "That bitch!" she said, jumping to her feet.

He stood up too, putting the little shell into his pocket and dusting off his hands. "It's okay, Sarah. It was a long time ago."

"It is most definitely not okay! How could she do that to you? What kind of person …" She trailed off, clearly thinking of Bryce. "I guess I know what kind of person would do something like that. But still—it makes me so angry to think about someone hurting you that way."

He stared back out at the waves. Something was moving just beyond the breakers, breaching the surface with the tiniest hint of silver. "I'll admit, it hurt a lot at the time. But it also made me mad … and like you, I threw myself into my work. I guess on some level, I was determined to prove her wrong. I started my company when I was working on my master's, and by the time I graduated, it had already taken off. Over time, it started to do really well—better than I could ever have imagined." He squinted, trying to figure out what he was seeing—a trick of the light? A school of fish? It was hard to tell—but something was definitely there.

Tearing his gaze from the ocean, he focused on her face. "Over time, I stopped thinking about Jill. I didn't miss her anymore, or wish we were still together. But I was lonely, if I'm going to be completely honest with you. I've been lonely all this time … until now."

For a long moment, Sarah didn't say anything. Finally, her voice barely audible over the lapping of the waves and the caws of the gulls, she said, "Me, too."

It felt like they'd confessed something far more momentous—and maybe they had. For the first time he could remember, Chuck didn't feel nervous in a woman's presence, like she was waiting for him to screw up or to find fault with him. He was just happy to be with Sarah—and he was confident she felt the same.

It was a freaking awesome feeling.

"Sarah—" he said, searching for a way to share what was in his heart.

But before he could find the words, she pointed at the ocean, her voice filled with excitement. "Chuck … look!"

He followed the direction of her finger … and saw a pod of dolphins break the surface of the water, their dorsal fins glinting silver in the light of the setting sun. They leapt high, one after the other, their bodies silhouetted by the red-gold glow of the sun as it sank toward the deep blue waves. The ocean was their playground, and watching them, Chuck couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret. No matter how large Echo, Finn, and Eden's tank might be, in the end, it was little more than a gilded cage. Did the two adult dolphins miss the ocean? And would Eden ever know what it was like to be this free?

"God," Sarah said, sounding awed, "they're incredible, aren't they?" She drew a deep breath, her eyes fixed on the horizon. When she spoke again, her voice was wistful. "I want this for our dolphins, one day. I mean, I would miss them, more than anything … but it's not right to keep them at the Aquarium if they can survive in the wild. It sounds silly, but one of the first questions I want to ask Echo and Finn, when we can really talk to them, is whether they miss the ocean."

It was as if she'd read his mind—yet another testament to their connection. This time, he didn't bother to tamp down the flame of happiness that threatened to consume him from the inside out. He let it blaze.

"I don't think it's silly at all," he said, slipping his arm around her shoulders and holding her tight. "And the fact that you'd be more than willing to let them go, given what they mean to you … it speaks to how selfless and genuine you really are. That's just one of the many reasons I like you so much—in case I didn't give you enough before."

Making a small sound of contentment, she leaned against him. The two of them stood there, reveling in each other's touch and watching the dolphins make their way out to sea, until the pod disappeared from sight.

A/N: Take that, Bryce Larkin! Now that Sarah's put him in his place, and she and Chuck have confessed their feelings for each other … will he bow out gracefully, or will there be stormy waters ahead? The action will be ramping up in the next few chapters, so stay tuned to find out.

As always, thanks for reading—and please keep your reviews, follows, and favorites coming our way! They really do make this all worthwhile.