I didn’t answer.
“I saw a photo,” he said softly. “Of you. The Summer’s End Festival—the Port Camden paper ran a piece about Bluebell Cove bouncing back after the storm. You were standing with Georgie unloading sandbags, and you looked—” He paused, breath catching. “You lookedhappy. I don’t know why, but it hit me like a gut punch. Nothing I found on the road was anything close to how Bluebell Cove feels. I kept thinking about it, overand over, about this place—then the assignment came up, and I thought… well, I didn’t think.”
I wanted to scoff. I wanted to laugh. But the words didn’t come. The conviction in his tone cracked my defenses—not all at once, but enough that the anger started leaking out, replaced by something softer and far more dangerous.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” I whispered.
“Because I didn’t want you to think I came back because of you.”
A humorless laugh escaped me. “Congratulations, that worked out great.”
The sound of it made him step closer. Fearless, just like always.
“I hurt you the last time, Margot. I know I did. And I didn’t want to risk it again without knowing for sure.” He let out a ragged breath. “I guess I failed at that too.”
The silence between us stretched, fragile as glass.
Then, quietly, he added, “You were right, you know. About me. Idochase things. Adventure, stories, whatever. But I’ve never stopped circling back here. Back to you.”
I hated how much I wanted to believe him. How much I wanted to take his words and fold it into the hollow spaces of my chest. I met his eyes, and the air between us shifted. The rain hit harder. My throat burned with everything I refused to say just yet.
“What about Ivy?” I whispered without thinking.
Teddy cocked his head and raised both eyebrows. “Ivy? My cousin?”
“No, Ivy your ex-girl—” I paused, registering the lopsided grin. “Your… cousin.”
The woman I spent years secretly envying was hiscousin.
“Is that seriously why you left without saying anything?” he asked, gracious enough not to laugh in my face.
I shook my head and turned away just as the rain intensified. Rhett peered at me from inside his truck, studying each movement like my personal bodyguard. My shoes were soaked and half dipped in mud, my hair dripped into my eyes and on my already sodden clothes, but I was too flushed to be cold.
For one split second, I thought about getting in Rhett’s truck, flying to New York, pretending the last ten minutes never happened. But then Teddy murmured my name again, quiet and certain, and all the reasons not to let him in fell away.
He said his peace. If I didn’t do the same, I might regret it for the rest of my life.
“You’re dangerous. Do you know that?” My voice rose over the sound of rushing tires. “Youterrifyme, Teddy. Because you make me want things I told myself I didn’t need anymore. And I’m—” The words began to wobble. “I’m the one who’ll get hurt when you move onto the next big thing.”
Something hot mingled with the raindrops on my face. Teddy’s hand darted out to catch it. When his thumb brushed my cheek, it left a trail of heat against skin that had gone numb from the rain.
“It seems I wasn’t clear,” he said, the solemnity in his expression making me lean in. “I thought I was coming back for Bluebell Cove, for the home I’d been missing. Then you hit me like a freight train, with your eyerolls and that softness you try so hard to hide. And I realized it wasn’t the town I missed. It was you. It’s always beenyou.”
That pesky spark in my chest rattled against my ribcage until it exploded into a wildfire. I didn’t fight the stupid smile that stretched across my mouth as I replied, “Why do you do this to me? Every time I think I’ve finally moved on, you show up and make me forget how to breathe.”
He stepped closer, his hand brushing mine. “Maybe because we have unfinished business.”
The words hung there, shimmering and terrifying.
“Teddy…” I warned, though my voice had lost its edge.
He tilted his head, eyes searching mine. “Say the word, Margot, and I’ll stop.”
I didn’t say it.
He reached up, fingers tucking hair behind my ear. The touch was tentative, reverent.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he said—the same words he’d spoken on the field, only quieter now, stripped bare. “Not for a single day.”
