Every step of their walk.
Every time she laughed.
The way her hair caught the breeze like it belonged to the wind itself.
The way her eyes didn’t flinchfrom his—not once.
He was halfway home before he realized he hadn’t turned the radio on. Or noticed how fast he was driving. By the time he parked in his driveway, he sat there for a minute, headlights still casting shadows on his garage.
Damn.
He finally climbed out, headed inside, ran through his usual routine—teeth, shower, bed. But when he laid down, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the ceiling fan spinning slow above him, his brain refused to shut off.
Will she call tomorrow?
God, I hope she does.
Because the thing was—he had no way to reach her if she didn’t.
He’d given her the card. That was it. She had to make the next move.
And that thought sat heavy in his chest.
So he did the only thing he could do—he replayed the night like a highlight reel. Her smile. Her voice. Her laugh. The way she listened. The way she looked at him, like she saw through all the bullshit.
Eventually, exhaustion dragged him under.
Back on Caswell, Claire was already asleep.
Not because she wasn’t curious. Not because she wasn’t tempted to text him right then.
But because she wanted tomorrow to get here faster.
She’d pulled the business card from her purse, saved the number under his name. Jaxon Stone. No emojis. No nicknames. Just the name. And that same little flutter in her chest every time she saw it.
She’d call him.
She knew she would.
But tonight? Tonight was for dreaming about all the things they hadn’t said yet.
And in the dark of her room, the soft crash of waves in the distance, Claire smiled.
9
Tan Lines & Tension
Claire’salarmblaredatexactly 8:00 AM. Most days she’d hit snooze. Maybe twice.
But not today.
Today, she popped out of bed like someone had poured espresso directly into her bloodstream.
Phone in hand, she headed to the bathroom, already scrolling her playlist. She skipped through five songs before landing on the one that made her hips sway before the water even hit the tile. Within seconds, the bathroom was filled with steam, beats, and Claire’s absolutely off-key but fully committed singing.
“GIRL—” came the sharp knock on the door.
“Other people need hot water too!”
