Jenna eventually took the hint and walked away, and Chase just sat there,drinking, staring at the table where she had once sat.
Laughing. Happy.
His chest ached.
He could have had that forever.
He should have had that forever.
But now?
Now he was just waiting.
For the day when he could walk into this bar, sit at this stool, and not think about her.
Because God help him—
Right now, he couldn’t imagine a day when he wouldn’t.
40
Tides Turning
Chasebarelyrememberedthedrive back from Low-Tide.
The road was a blur, streetlights flashing by in streaks of yellow and white, the hum of the engine nothing but a distant noise against the chaos in his head.
He had been lost in his own fucking mind.
Still seeing Savannah in every shadow.
Still hearing her laughter in the spaces between conversations that no longer interested him.
The world had kept spinning. People kept drinking, laughing, living.
But for him?
Time had fucking stopped.
Jaxon pulled the truck into Chase’s driveway, the tires crunching against the gravel, the engine rumbling low before he cut it off. Neither of them moved at first. The silence was thick, heavy, pressing against Chase’s chest like a goddamn vice. He was still staring out at the water, watching the tide roll against the dock, feeling that familiar ache in his chest settle even deeper.
He couldn’t escape it.
Not here.
Not anywhere.
Savannah was everywhere and nowhere, haunting him in a way that left him raw, hollow, shattered from the inside out.
Sara, who had been uncharacteristically quiet most of the night, finally sighed and turned in her seat. “Alright, enough of this brooding bullshit. Let’s go.”
Chase shot her a look, his jaw tightening, but Jaxon was already pushing his door open, stepping out like he knew there was no arguing.
Chase had never fought a losing battle with Sara Stone.
He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
So, he climbed out, following them both down toward the dock, the moonhanging heavy in the sky, reflecting off the water like liquid silver.
