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And if this Matt guy turned out to be yet another disappointment? Well, at least there would be expensive champagne to drown my sorrows in.

I drained my glass, slipped my feet into heels that would definitely hurt by midnight, and followed my friends out the door. The night air was warm for December, carrying the salt scent of the ocean. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear early fireworks popping, celebratory and bright against the darkening sky.

Chapter 3

Geri

Jake's parents' beach house turned out to be exactly what Haley had described—not quite a mansion, but definitely not what normal people would call a "vacation home." It was a sprawling two-story structure with weathered cedar siding and massive windows that reflected the moonlight bouncing off the ocean. Music pulsed from inside, and the wraparound deck was already dotted with people holding drinks and laughing.

"Told you it was gorgeous," Haley said as our Uber pulled up to the circular driveway.

"Jesus," I muttered. "Is everyone we know secretly loaded?"

Anna laughed. "Not everyone. Just Haley and Jake."

We made our way inside, where the party was already in full swing. The interior was all polished wood and nautical touches—rope railings, driftwood sculptures, and framed vintage maps. A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall of the living room, though it wasn't lit; the night was unseasonably warm.

Jake's mother, a willowy blonde woman who looked like an older version of a luxury skincare advertisement, greeted us with air kisses and compliments on our outfits. His father, a silver-haired man with the confident stance of someone who'd neverworried about money a day in his life, handed us each a glass of champagne from a tray.

"The boys aren't here yet," Mrs. Reynolds told Haley. "Jake texted that they're running late. Something about picking up Matt from the hotel."

I caught the meaningful glance she shot my way and resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Great. Even Jake's parents knew I was being set up.

"We'll just get settled then," Haley said smoothly, steering us toward a cluster of empty seats near the windows.

For the next hour, we mingled with the other early arrivals—mostly Jake's parents' friends and their adult children, all dressed in expensive casual wear that probably cost more than my monthly rent. I nursed my champagne, letting the conversation flow around me, occasionally chiming in when directly addressed but mostly people-watching.

It was nearly ten when a burst of louder laughter announced the arrival of Jake and his friends. They tumbled in like a pack of overgrown puppies—five guys in various states of dressy casual, all talking over each other and making a beeline for the bar.

"There they are," Anna said unnecessarily, her eyes fixed on Jake.

I followed her gaze, trying to figure out which one might be Matt. Jake I recognized—tall, sandy-haired, with the easy confidence of someone who'd never been told no. Beside him was a shorter guy with glasses who I vaguely remembered from some previous gathering. Then there was a redhead, a blond with a man-bun, and?—

Oh.

The last guy in the group stood slightly apart from the others, surveying the room with an intensity that was almost predatory. He was tall—taller than Jake by several inches—with broad shoulders that tapered to a narrow waist. His dark hairwas cut short on the sides but longer on top, styled in a way that looked effortlessly messy. But what caught my attention were the tattoos.

They covered his arms completely, disappearing under the rolled-up sleeves of his button-down shirt and reappearing at his collar, hinting at more coverage beneath. Even from across the room, I could see the intricate designs—not the scattered, random pieces that some people collected, but a cohesive artwork that flowed across his skin.

"That's Matt," Haley whispered, following my gaze. "The one with the tattoos."

"I figured," I said, trying to sound unimpressed even as I felt a flutter of interest. I had a weakness for tattoos—both getting them and admiring them on others. And these were clearly quality work.

"Should we go say hi?" Anna asked, already half-rising from her seat.

"Let them get drinks first," I suggested, not quite ready to make my approach. I needed another moment to compose myself, to shore up my defences. Because despite my determination to remain aloof, there was something about this guy that made my pulse quicken.

I watched as Jake's mother greeted the newcomers, her smile slightly strained when she hugged Matt. I could practically hear her thoughts:Such a shame about those tattoos on such a handsome boy.

Matt seemed to sense it too, his smile turning wry as he accepted her embrace. He said something that made her laugh, the tension dissolving, and I found myself curious about what words had that effect.

"Okay, they've got drinks," Haley said after a few minutes. "Let's go."

I stood, smoothing down my dress and taking a fortifying sip of champagne. "Remember," I said to Anna, "asthma attack if I give the signal."

"What's the signal?" she asked.

"I'll sneeze three times in a row."