Page 25 of Fragile Hearts (Hibiscus Hearts #3)

It’s early, but the gang is all out on the water, minus Alana and Flynn.

We didn’t plan it, but when Owen and I paddle out, Sage, Nate, Miles, Kai and Daisy are all there, floating on their boards, waiting for the swell.

It’s always been our spot, our early morning meeting place, but we haven’t done it in so long.

Things got weird when Miles and Daisy split, and then she started seeing Isaac. While Miles and Daisy still aren’t really speaking, they can at least be around each other now.

“Fucking sweet,” Owen calls out as we reach the group. Straddling his board, he settles himself next to Nate, and I squeeze in between Daisy and Sage, putting even more distance between Daisy and Miles, and I swear I see the relief on her face when I do.

“Fuck, it’s been forever since we’ve all been out here together. Wish Alana and Flynn were here,” Nate says, and it makes me smile.

He’s changed so much since meeting Sage. Falling in love has made him look at life so differently than he used to, and I get it. We’re cut from the same cloth, the same shitty childhood, the same aching feeling of being left behind, but while he got angry and bitter, I retreated and hid.

But all of that has changed for both of us, and I love that so damn much.

We all chat for a bit, talking about Flynn and Alana’s performance at Pipe Masters.

Nate and Sage hosted a viewing party for all our friends, and unfortunately, Owen and I missed it since we were at the opening of Orchid Bay Lux.

We tried to catch up on everything, checking the stats on our phones, watching clips and getting text updates from the group, but it wasn’t the same as being there.

Not saying that Owen and my weekend wasn’t amazing, because it was. I wouldn’t change it for anything.

“Yeah, but they’re out there taking on the surfing world and kicking ass. They’re a fucking power couple,” Miles says, and as the words leave his mouth, his eyes are focused solely on Daisy.

But she doesn’t give him the time of day. If anything, she gives him the biggest fuck you possible by looking over her shoulder and catching the wave that comes in.

“Get it, Daze!” Kai yells, throwing up a shaka as she rides the wave into the shore. Hopping off her board, she returns Kai’s shaka and then gives us a goodbye wave.

“Gotta go!” she shouts, her hands cupped around her mouth. “Catch you later!”

We all wave her goodbye, but an awkwardness falls around us—the constant tension that is there because of her and Miles.

I have to admit, a part of me didn’t want to date Owen because what if we ended up like Miles and Daisy? It’s like a divorce when a couple in a group of friends breaks up. People have to choose a side, someone doesn’t show up to get-togethers, and everyone seems to be on the defensive.

But Owen is worth the risk.

Nothing feels like it could ever come between us.

The group spends the next hour or so catching waves. The swell is almost perfect, and as the sun moves higher in the sky, we all start to head in.

“The Pipe Dream,” Nate says, checking his watch and letting out a sigh.

We all feel the same way. We’d love to spend the day out here, surfing wave after wave, but life calls: jobs and school. Still, it’s been great to make time to be together today.

“Yep, lessons and class,” Owen adds. “What you got going on today?” His question is directed at Miles, who shrugs absentmindedly. “You’re not on the schedule. No lessons?”

“Nah, not today,” Miles responds but doesn’t elaborate. “Gonna head in. See ya later.”

And with that, the group slowly starts to break up. Owen and I head in too, trekking across the sand and up to the house.

I still can’t believe I live somewhere like this as I take in the back of Owen’s place, catching a glimpse of the water over my shoulder. The view from the back deck is something dreams are made of, and I love all the storage for our boards.

I place mine on the rack, waiting for Owen to follow, and then I slip the lock into place. Not that we need it, but I know Owen’s board is custom, and I’d hate for anything to happen to it. Mine is just an old board that came into The Pipe Dream, one someone traded in, but Nate fixed it up for me.

I actually love it. All broken in and repaired. It still surfs like I want it to, and I wouldn’t dare think of replacing it.

I stop, again, looking out at the water. Its crystal blue color shines in the sunlight, its vastness reaching farther than my eye could ever see.

“I love it here. I love the ocean and your house, and you,” I say to Owen as he comes to stand next to me. Resting my head against his arm, I link mine through his and close my eyes.

“Our house,” he whispers, his lips kissing the top of my head. “You got it wrong. It’s our house.”

I swallow hard at his words, remembering our conversation last night when he asked me to move into his bedroom. The way he called me a good girl and how it sent my body into a tailspin. Hearing him call me that, I never want to be anything else other than Owen Sinclair’s good girl.

“Our home,” I whisper back, the words catching on my tongue, barely making it out. I’ve never said something like this before, always avoiding it, always knowing nothing in my life was ever that permanent.

“It’s our home, sweets, and it always will be.”

I look over at him, my heart bursting with joy, and I push up on my toes, kissing him. I can’t get enough, wanting to kiss him and hold him and have his hands on me at all times. He’s my safe space.

With that, we head inside, this feeling of pure and utter bliss running through me, and I can’t imagine starting my day any other way now. Being here with Owen, I wake up and go to sleep with a smile on my face, and there’s nothing better.

“A package was on the porch for you this morning,” Owen says as he heads back toward our now-shared bedroom. “I dropped it by the front door. Meant to tell you before we went out but forgot.”

“Thanks!” I call out to him, but I’m not sure he heard me.

And there, by the door, is a large cardboard box, my name right there on the label, our address there too. I smile, taking it in, and I see Alana’s name in the return address location.

What did she send me?

Carrying it into the kitchen, I set it down on the island and grab a knife to open it.

On top is a little handwritten note from Alana.

For my favorite girlies!

Each of you received a box filled with goodies from Racy Girl, who just signed me for sponsorship and to partner with them on a line of bikinis!

Hit the beach, my betties!

Love you!

I sort through the box, pulling out rash guards and bikinis, sunglasses and boardshorts, along with some T-shirts and the cutest one-piece suits with open backs and adorable details.

I quickly grab my phone, snapping some pictures of it all scattered across the island. Not wanting to ruin it for Sage or Daisy in case they haven’t gotten their boxes yet, I text Alana only.

Me: Alana!! This is incredible. Thank you so much for all this awesome stuff. I can’t wait to get out on the water with it. And holy shit, you’re killing it! A sponsorship deal and a collab! So fucking proud of you!

Alana: Thanks, babe. Same to you. So proud of you for taking a chance on Owen. You deserve all the happiness in the world. You have one more thing coming, so hang tight or hang ten.

She’s so cute, and I laugh at her last line. And as much as I’d love to spend the day texting back and forth with Alana, I’ve got to get to work.

The hotel is busy, even more than usual, and I’d say it has something to do with the opening of Orchid Bay Lux. People have been referencing it while checking in, and we’ve even had to turn guests away who have shown up without a reservation.

Sally comes over to where Amber and I are standing at the front desk, a huge smile on her face as she carries a stack of magazines.

Setting them down, she begins to thumb through until she finds what she’s looking for, her smile growing even larger.

“So much press for Lux,” she says, pushing a magazine each over to Amber and me. “Our social media is blowing up with tags. I think this is our biggest opening ever.”

Looking down at the spread, it’s Lux from every angle. Every gorgeous feature of the hotel is showcased: the foliage, that all-white marble lobby with its deep wood accents, the pool, the suites, the view.

“Not surprised,” Amber says sweetly. “Lanai is made for a place like Lux, and it seems to be boosting bookings here too. Look at this place.”

She holds her hands out in front of her, looking around at the crowded lobby, the guests milling about, the noise of excited chatter filling the open-air space.

“But I think this is my favorite thing from that night,” Sally says, turning to look at me. “I’ve never seen so much happiness in one picture.”

She slides another magazine over to me, and this one is of Owen and me.

I’m laughing, a genuine smile on my face as he whispers something in my ear.

The photographer caught this moment when neither of us knew.

Unplanned and unstaged, and all I see when I look at it is the love Owen and I have for each other.

I never knew it could be captured so effortlessly, but there it is, right in front of me.

“I got the photographer to send me the original,” Sally whispers to me, a knowing smile on her face. “Love looks good on you both.” She kisses my cheek, running a hand down my arm.

She gathers up the magazines just as the desk begins to fill with waiting guests.

Taking the magazines out to the tables in the lobby, she sets them out for the world to see.

Not at all shy about her success, and she shouldn’t be.

She and Rick have worked hard to build the brand to what it is today, and the guests keep coming back, so they are definitely doing something right.

“Owen Sinclair, huh?” Amber says as we continue to check in guests, her words laced with a cute excitement. “Girl, you landed the boy everyone wants, but I’m sure you already know that. Congrats.”

“Thanks, and he is pretty perfect.”

Our day has been just crazy. Never really slowing down at all, and handling all the excitement over Lux has been fun. Guests are asking for booking information and pictures, and we’ve even had the media here today snapping pictures.

It’s all great publicity for Sally, Rick and Cara, and I’m so glad I’ve gotten to be a part of it.

As my shift begins to wind down, the crowds slowing as people head out for dinner, I grab my phone and check my messages. There’s a group one that Alana sent, letting all of us know that we’ve all gotten our boxes and can chat and do try-ons together, and I giggle at the idea.

How the fuck did my life end up here?

It’s been so damn hard to stay positive throughout all the bullshit in my life, so many tears and broken hearts, but I’ve come out on the other side.

Things are only going to continue to go up from here.

With school and graduation in the next couple of years, I’ll have officially done it.

Gotten out of the toxic cycle of the foster care system and shitty parents.

There’s another text, this one from Sally with the picture of Owen and me attached, along with multiple heart-eye emojis.

All it does is make my smile widen. She couldn’t be nicer to me despite it all.

Never holding it against me that I don’t have money or the family that the Sinclairs have. I’m so lucky to have them, all of them.

I then open Instagram, and the number of tags I have is insane. It’s in the hundreds, and now I also have tons of requests to follow me. It’s hilarious because my page is basically just a bunch of pictures of the ocean and surfing and Mochi. Not much to get excited about.

Scrolling through all the tagged posts, the captions basically all say the same thing: listing me as Owen Sinclair’s girlfriend, along with my name, Maui local, Orchid Bay employee and amateur surfer.

Honestly, that last part makes me laugh.

I’m not even sure “amateur” is the right word.

More like “hobby surfer”, but I’ll let it slide.

As I continue to scroll, I can feel the presence of someone at the desk, and I look up, coming face to face with the last person I thought I’d see in my life again.

My mother.

“Hey, Sloanie,” she croaks out, her voice hoarse from all those years of smoking. Her face is weathered and wrinkled, but underneath it all, she’s still the woman who left me all those years ago.

I cringe at her use of the nickname she gave me as a kid. Only saying it when she was about to leave, or ask me to move for the millionth time, or when she was bringing some random guy home. It always came with this mock, sugary-sweet tone that made my stomach churn.

Rage burns hot through my veins, my blood feeling like it could boil at any second, and as much as I want to scream in her face and tell her to leave me the fuck alone, I can’t. I’m at work, and that’s why she showed up here.

Public.

Safe.

And what I thought was the best weekend of my life has now been tarnished. Because that’s how my mother found me.

The weekend at Orchid Bay Lux with all the media.

She will always ruin everything that has ever been good in my life.

And this is why I can’t have nice things.