Page 33 of Hearts Adrift (A Texas Beach Town Romance #4)

We watch the confession together, all of us.

Huddled up around the small screen of River’s phone.

Still propped up on a desk by books.

Lexi’s live stream was posted to her page. Then shared with the world. Over a thousand views. Then hundreds of thousands. The truth about River. The reality behind Trent Embers’s predatory nature. Now everyone knows the name of Lexi, the once invisible woman who bravely spoke out.

And there’s no doubt now that since her story’s been shared, others will come forward, too. They’ll have stories. A hill of evidence will soon become a mountain. Lexi will become a voice for many, River is certain of it.

After the confession is watched, River goes upstairs to make some calls—among them, his agent, who likely has a whole laundry list of things that need to quickly happen, but first and perhaps more importantly, to Lexi herself, as I imagine the two have a lot to catch up on after these weeks of tumultuousness and uncertainty.

Anya, just before she hung up, congratulated River on what’s certain to be the start of a long road back to normalcy, then announced that she was departing Dreamwood at once, as she didn’t wish to test the patience of her firm, which desperately needed her back.

“Don’t think this victory weasels you out of watching the rest of Cissy Sees !

” she barked at River just before hanging up, and none of us know what she means except for River, whose smile lingered after Anya’s face fled the screen of the phone.

While River’s upstairs making his calls, I stay with my (overly animated, relieved, and joyful) family downstairs.

Heather is cuddling with Roman in her arms while Brooke floats around the room, beaming.

“At least we don’t have to rebrand ourselves as Hopewell Harbor: Scandal Cove,” says Brooke as she puts away the books that were propping up River’s phone for the live feed that never happened.

“I really did have ideas for that. Capitalizing on the scandal.”

Dad is gathering stuff in the kitchen for sandwiches when he calls out: “Do you think River would like to stay for a bite? After he’s off the phone with his people?”

“I think he’d love that,” I call back.

Brooke keeps going on. “We could have discounts if you bring clips or QR codes from any relevant article …”

Heather rushes up behind me for an ambush hug, still holding a somewhat annoyed Roman. “I’ve got my lil’ bro back!” she squeals uncharacteristically.

“Devious Discounts!” exclaims Brooke. “Wait, is that too creepy sounding? Oh! Creeper Coupons! Hmm, no …”

“What do you mean?” I ask Heather, squirming against her vice grip.

“You and Theo made up,” she says with a happy sigh into my ear. “Now you can be friends even if you won’t get back together.”

“And we’ll have ‘Wolfe-It-Down Wednesdays’ at the Parrot,” carries on Brooke, “with bottomless fries …”

“I wouldn’t exactly say Theo and I ‘made up’ …”

“I know, I know,” she grumbles at me. “You and River are it, Theo’s in your past. But now I can feel less guilty if I wanna meet up with him for drinks now and then.”

“You could’ve met up with him before,” I throw right back. “I wasn’t stopping you.”

“Yeah, but now I don’t have to hide it.”

Brooke grunts as she pushes the chair River was using back into place, then eyes me. “Wait, does this mean River is leaving the bungalow early? Like, is he heading back to the West Coast now that he’s done with the Gulf Coast?”

“Oh, I didn’t think of that,” admits Heather, coming to a similar pensive pause as she continues clinging to me.

That seems to drain all the fun from the room, the three of us staring off at nothing, lost in our thoughts. Apparently none of us took the time to consider what comes next.

What will River do now that he’s freed?

I don’t have long to mull it over. Just as the silence of the room threatens to smother us, footsteps echo down the stairs as River returns.

It isn’t my imagination that he looks ten pounds lighter on his feet, practically bouncing, with his hair tousled from dragging his fingers through it over and over again—a habit of his when he’s on the phone for too long, I’ve learned.

“I swear, it feels like a twenty-ton weight rolled off my damned chest,” he says as he hops off the last step and comes up to me—or rather us , as Heather and Brooke continue to smother me.

“Should I take us out to eat somewhere on the island? My treat.”

“Dad’s making sandwiches,” says Heather, then dryly adds, “even one for you.”

“Hmm … still a bit raw about the headache I’ve caused all of you? How about this.” He taps on my chest—or more specifically, the mesh tank I’m still wearing. “I’ll give your favorite ex-boyfriend of Finn’s a lovely autograph straight across the chest in my finest gold ink.”

Heather purses her lips, then shrugs. “There is a slim chance that that … may buy you a few brownie points …”

Brooke rolls her eyes on the other side of me. “Ignore her and just join us for a mediocre sandwich or two while you spill all of that tasty tea you’ve got.”

River beams at her. “Sounds perfect. And I’ll settle for a brownie point or two,” he adds to Heather, whose eyes already seem to be warming up to him.

It’s a scene I could not possibly have imagined would be happening so soon, to be seated around a table with my dad, both sisters, and River, enjoying tasty sandwiches and laughing our asses off over all the insanity of the past few weeks.

My dad and Heather are filled in on all the sneaking around they missed out on—something that Heather insists in hindsight would not have freaked her out as much as Brooke and I presumed, though we’re left fairly skeptical whether that’s true.

When Dad launches into questions about the movie, River shares about one of the calls he made. “Filming will resume as soon as they replace the director. But that won’t be for a little while, so …” He gives a light shrug. “I guess it seems like I’ll be stickin’ around a bit longer.”

Brooke next to me elbows my ribs and wiggles her eyebrows. I offer a diminutive smile back at her.

The truth is, despite how happy and relieved everyone looks and sounds right now, something is still weighing on me—an inevitable thing no amount of victories over Trent Embers can fix.

The fact that River is still on his way out.

Maybe not right away. But eventually.

And each time I notice how relaxed his shoulders look, or the way he laughs with his whole chest every time one of my sisters says something funny, or how his eyes shine like he’s finally allowed to be human again … I can’t help but wonder what other reasons inspire his joy.

And if those reasons include him imagining his life back in LA.

Embracing the cameras he once loathed.

Attending prestigious awards shows and premieres.

The red carpets.

And I’m sure he’s looking forward to reuniting with his dear friend, both of them having had separate journeys of their own through this hard time, journeys that began so many years ago when they were humble actors fighting for a chance to have their name on the big sign.

River isn’t staying here for good.

Only for now.

Somewhere between sandwiches and virgin drinks by the large back windows overlooking the water, I make the decision that I’m going to be fine with letting him go.

He’s given me an amazing escape from the humbling torment of being “Theo’s ex-boyfriend” for too long.

He’s helped me see how big the world is outside of this beach town. I owe River Wolfe more than I can say.

And I’ll force myself to be content with his departure.

Happy for him, even.

Wingless Angels Part 2 —or whatever it’s called—will be a total blockbuster. I might even go and watch the first film, then make a whole thing out of it and hit the movie theater for the release of the second one.

Assuming I can get through either without breaking down and crying.

Heather hears back from Theo, who is hiding at some friend’s dormitory at the art college inland until the news people and crazy fans learn the full truth about the scandal.

It’ll only be a matter of time before the crowds rush back to Dreamwood for a word on River’s take of the story, though it’s far more likely the attention has focused to hunting for Lexi and her full story—which she of course anticipated and is ready to deliver.

I’m so glad that she and River have reconnected.

It’s like a light switching back on in his eyes.

These past few weeks have likely seemed quite dark.

It’s early evening when River decides to head back to the bungalow—but not alone. “I was thinking of taking a more … scenic route,” he tells me. “Wanna come with? To make sure I don’t slip on some slippery stones?”

That’s how River and I end up traversing the uneven, rocky beach once again, but with a little more sunlight than before, helping guide our way.

River figured this route isn’t just about being more fun and “rule-breaking”, but because walking down the street runs the risk of being spotted by any lingering eyes or cameras.

He and I have decidedly had our fill of both.

“You have a really sweet family,” he tells me.

I shrug. “They have their moments.”

“It’s amazing, how quickly I felt at home with them.” He nudges my side. “Even Heather likes me.”

“Better enjoy it while it lasts,” I tease halfheartedly.

“Is there something on your mind?”

I shrug again. “No.” I slip a bit on my next step, right myself, then add, “I mean, other than everything.”

“I know, right?” He chuckles lightly. “It’s been a huge rollercoaster of a day, hasn’t it? Lots of big rises, and then fast and unexpected—”

He missteps on the next stone and goes tumbling.

I reach out and grab hold of him by the shirt, then yank to keep him from falling.

Our bodies stay in place, his suspended by the fistful of his shirt I’ve grabbed, which brings our faces close, as the Gulf waves rage and hiss around us.