Page 10

Dylan

Eight years earlier

I ’d walked them to their car like a man staking a claim with no intention of letting the night end with a goodbye.

Alyssa was already inside, sprawled across the passenger seat, pretending to scroll her phone but stealing glances through the window.

The soft clunk of the door shutting left Jennifer and me alone under the streetlamp’s glow, our shadows tangled on the pavement like they were holding on tighter than I dared.

Jennifer hugged herself. If I’d had a jacket, I would have offered it to her, but I hadn’t thought of much beyond her when I’d sprinted off the yacht to meet them.

My instincts about her had been right. I’d spent the last few hours memorizing her: the seductive rumble of her laugh, the way her nose crinkled when Alyssa teased her, how her eyes darted to her friend for backup when the conversation turned too real.

She was a beautiful, complicated puzzle I wanted to solve, piece by careful piece.

Before tonight, I’d scoffed at the idea of meeting someone and just knowing they were the one.

That was for the movies and guys with too much time on their hands.

But then Jennifer had showed up on the dock in that damn sundress and a scowl, Alyssa trailing behind with a grin, and my world had shifted.

A switch flipped inside me... one that brought everything I wanted into focus.

Now, standing here, I wasn’t bored. I wasn’t restless. My phone, my plans, the noise of my life—it had all faded. There was just her, and the way she filled a hollowness I’d told myself was normal.

She looked up, her eyes catching the light—curious, cautious, like she was sizing me up. “Thanks for dinner. And, you know, feeding my friend.”

“Anytime,” I said, meaning it.

Her lips twitched, but her gaze sharpened. “Do you make a habit of meeting someone and ditching your friends for them?”

“That was a first for me, but I don’t regret it.”

She tilted her head, skeptical. “I’m sure they’re not happy with you.”

“I’m sure I don’t care.” I stepped closer, enough to feel the air shift between us. “I met someone who matters more.”

Her smile broke wide, and damn, it stole my breath. As if sensing her effect on me, she reined her enthusiasm in. “Cute.”

My pulse kicked up. It had taken a mountain of nachos, two rounds of frozen strawberry margaritas, and Alyssa’s approval for Jennifer to tell me anything about herself.

Even then, she didn’t share much. I’d learned that we all had something in common—all of us had just graduated from college.

Unlike me, though, Jennifer didn’t have the next part of her life mapped out.

She didn’t want to go back to living with her parents, but she also didn’t have a job or a place lined up yet.

Alyssa had been quick to reassure her that she didn’t have to decide anything today. Jennifer had hugged her and thanked her for always being there for her.

My phone was full of people ready to attend any party I invited them to, but would any of them take me in if I hit hard times? I doubted it.

She glanced at the car, where Alyssa was pretending not to mind waiting. “I should go.”

I ran a hand down one of her arms. “Is it too soon to say I want to see you again?”

There it was, a spark of pleasure in her eyes, before she lowered them. “Tonight was great, but I’m not currently in a place where seeing someone, even casually, would make sense. Priority number one: I need to decide where I want to live. Then find a job. After that—”

“You don’t seem like someone who flies by the seat of their pants. You had a plan, but something happened, didn’t it?”

“It sure did.” She shook her head while keeping her gaze locked on the pavement. “But life is like that. You think you know which door you’ll walk through, but sometimes it slams shut and you must figure out which window you can shimmy through instead.”

“Hey,” I said in a supportive tone. “You don’t need to shimmy alone.”

Her eyes raised to meet mine, and the anger in them tugged at my heart. Someone had hurt her, and I hated that. “I don’t need your sympathy or your help.”

“Who let you down? A boyfriend? Were you going to move in with him but broke up?” I didn’t like that idea, but it tracked. Women as beautiful as she was didn’t stay single long.

She inhaled. “My father decided he wanted my mother back, and she forgave him. Again.”

“Oh.” That was both better and worse. Better because I didn’t have to imagine her with someone else, and worse because I could see the way it had shaken her. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffed. “Don’t be. It’s just life lifing.”

“Your plan before was to go home?” I asked even though I was beginning to understand her and her situation. “To take care of your mother.”

Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, but that’s no longer necessary. I’m free .” The self-deprecation in that last word was telling. Someone had told her that’s how she should feel. She hesitated, her fingers tightening around her arms. “It’s a mess. I’m a mess. I could go back, but I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.” The words came out firm, like I could shield her from any pain.

“I’m not. I’m just not yet sure what that means as far as what to do next.”

“Whatever you want to.”

She gave me a look—half grateful, half amused. “Easy for you to say, yacht guy.”

I grinned, but my chest tightened. My own parents flashed through my mind—dinner table silences, their expectations a weight I was currently cruising to avoid.

What would my father say if I told him I didn’t want to be his minion?

Would he wish he’d chosen better when adopting?

I pushed the thought down. “If you could do anything, what would you want to?”

She blinked, caught off guard. “Fast forward time to a month from now. To be beyond all this and settled in a little apartment somewhere with a job that pays well enough that I can visit Alyssa now and then.”

“Sounds achievable.”

“It is.” Her laugh was soft, a little bitter. “Even if today it feels impossible.”

“Tell me something,” I pressed, leaning in. “What do you love to do?”

“Pay my rent on time?” she joked.

I pinned her with a look. “Seriously. Remove money from the equation. How would you spend your time?”

She chewed her lip, eyes guarded. “Traveling, I guess. Alyssa and I’ve done a few trips, cheap ones, nothing fancy.

But I love it. New places, new people. When we went to Bermuda, I met this woman who owned a little shop called Tide & Time.

It wasn’t flashy, kind of hidden, almost like she didn’t care if anyone found it.

Inside, it smelled like sun and old wood and lemon oil. ”

She glanced at me, then back down at her hands.

“She made clocks. Tide clocks. And these glass bottles filled with sea-worn notes people left behind... regrets, love letters, things they needed to let go of, and she sent them out to sea. I asked her why, and she said she used to walk the beach with her husband, and they once found a bottle with a love note inside from a man to a woman who had married someone else. She and her husband kept that note and when he died in a hurricane, she placed a letter to him in that bottle with the love note and sent it off to sea.”

Jennifer’s voice hitched, just slightly.

“She said grief doesn’t go away unless you send it away.

Her shop helped people let go and move on.

I remember standing there, listening to her, and thinking—people are amazing.

The things they survive. The stories they don’t even realize they’re telling.

They should be heard, shared.” She looked up at me, suddenly shy.

“I’ve always wanted to hear real stories.

Not just the ones in books. The lived ones. ”

I saw Jennifer’s essence then, not her physical beauty, but her heart. She cared about people and had an appreciation for their journeys. I couldn’t recall a time when I’d wanted something as much as I wanted her to have more moments like she’d just described.

“Travel with me this summer. We’ll go everywhere.” The words spilled out, reckless but right.

She laughed, incredulous, her eyes dancing. “Thanks, but no.”

“Why not?” I shrugged, but my heart was hammering.

She studied me, like she was searching for the catch. “I don’t know you.”

I took a breath, steadying myself. “We can fix that.”

She shook her head. “I can’t run off and see the world. I have to start applying for jobs.”

“You could do that in the fall.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I already told you that I’m not interested in starting a relationship right now.”

“That’s a problem, because suddenly, I am.” I traced the soft curve of her jaw. “Come on, let me show you the world.”

She jerked her head away. “I’m not stupid. I know how things work. I say yes, you think I’m your summer sex toy. No thanks.”

“If that’s how things work, I’ve been doing life wrong for a long time. And, you’re right, I’m coming on too strong. But you’re homeless and dreaming of traveling. I have a yacht and a summer of freedom before I start working for my parents. It sounds meant to be.”

“Or too good to be true, so it is.”

I barked a laugh. “Hey, you just admitted traveling together sounds good. I’m not sure how to resolve the sex toy part, though. What if I promise you, I’ll only put out if you beg me to?”

She rolled her eyes skyward. “I have no reason to trust you.”

“But you do have the time to get to know me. I’ll grab a hotel in whatever town would make that easy. Just say yes to breakfast tomorrow.”

Before answering, she ran a hand over her eyes.

“You’re wasting your time. I’m not even that exciting of a person.

I crochet mini ducks for people in nursing homes.

I also enjoy going to parks and playing chess with little old men, and spend hours talking to them.

Does that sound like someone you want to spend the summer with? ”

“Yes,” I said with conviction.

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, she didn’t move. The streetlamp buzzed faintly above us, casting her face in soft gold. My hands itched to reach for her, but I held back, afraid one wrong move would break whatever this was.

“What you’re asking me to do requires more trust than I have in anyone,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“That’s not true. You’d accept the offer if Alyssa made it.”

She nodded. “Because she’s my friend and not...”

“I could be your friend.” I couldn’t resist touching her again. This time, I tucked a loose hair behind her ear. “And then, if you find me completely irresistible, maybe more .”

Her mouth opened and shut without a sound.

“You don’t have to say yes to everything right now. Just breakfast. Here. Tomorrow. Nine a.m. How does that sound?”

Her eyes held mine, and I saw a yearning in them. “Like a bad idea.”

“But the best bad idea.”

“Yes,” she whispered. Alyssa honked the horn, shattering the moment. Jennifer jumped, then shot her friend an apologetic look. “Thanks for dinner.”

I nodded, stepping back, but my hand grazed hers. “Nine a.m.”

“Nine a.m.,” she echoed, her smile lingering as she slid into the car.

I watched them drive off, the taillights fading into the night, then glanced at my phone before stuffing it into my pocket. Of course there wasn’t a text from my parents. They were busy, too busy to inquire how my day had gone.

Good.

I didn’t want to tell them that Jennifer had just reset the course of not only my summer but possibly my life. They would have told me I’d lost my mind.

When really, it was my heart I’d just watched drive away into the night.