His jaw tensed as the memory played out in his head. The way Jenna had sauntered up, full of overconfidence and expectation. The way Savannah had remained cool, collected, unshaken. The way Jenna had thrown her final jab—asking if he still lived on Palmetto Drive—and the way Savannah had gone completely still.
He exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as he turned onto a backroad, his headlights cutting through the thickening darkness. He wasn’t even pissed—he was annoyed. Jenna had been a reminder of exactly who he used to be. A man who took what he wanted, left before the sun came up, and never—never—gave a damn about anything that lasted longer than a night.
Until now.
Until Savannah Monroe had waltzed her way back into town, wrecked his carefully laid-out existence, and made him want everything he never thought hecould have.
As his truck approached his long gravel driveway, he slowed. The streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the pavement. eyes flicking to the sign standing at the entrance. His truck came to a stop as he reached the entrance to his driveway, and his eyes lifted to the sign standing at the entrance.
Whispering Echoes Drive.
He had read that sign a million times before.
Hell, he named it.
But tonight, it felt… different.
It wasn’t just a name. It was a reminder.
A reminder of all that had happened.
A reminder of the memories made.
A reminder that he was running out of time.
Instead of taking the turn, he did something he hadn’t done in years.
He yanked the wheel, whipping his truck around, sending gravel flying as he pointed it back toward the road.
He wasn’t ready to go home.
He needed clarity.
He needed space.
He needed to think.
And he knew exactly where to do it.
Chase didn’t even have to think about where he was going.
His hands knew before his brain did.
The drive was automatic—turns he had taken a thousand times before, roads that had been burned into his memory long before he even had his license.
He passed the marina where Savannah had met him two days ago.
Where she had smiled at him like he was the only man in the world.
He passed South End, where they had spent summers sneaking into the pool at the old hotel, diving under the water to muffle their laughter as the manager searched for them with a flashlight.
He passed the Monroe house, where Savannah was probably curled up on the couch with Mallory, pretending she wasn’t falling just as hard as he was.
But none of it mattered.
Not when he knew exactly where he was going.
His truck came to a stop at the very edge of town, where the pavement ended and the sand began. The JP access lot was empty, the only sounds the distant crash of waves and the rustling of sea grass in the warm summer wind. He shut off the engine, letting the sudden quiet settle over him like a blanket.
