Claire smirked and shouted back, “It’s called patience. Look into it!”
Still, she turned the faucet off and wrapped herself in a towel, water droplets sliding down her back. She wiped the mirror, stared at her reflection for a second, and then laughed to herself.
Get it together, Claire.
Because all she could think about was him.
Would Jaxon want to do something casual today? Another group thing? Would it be just the two of them? Would he even answer if she called?
She shook her head and threw her hair into a messy bun, slipping into her bathing suit before heading downstairs where chaos was already brewing.
The plan for the day? Full beach mode. Zero responsibilities. Maximum sunburns.
Sara stood at the door, sunglasses on, sunscreen forgotten. “No worries but sandy toes and a burnt nose,” she said like it was her personal motto.
“We know more than your nose is getting burnt,” Macie shot back. “You do remember we still have thirteen days of this, right?”
“I need a base burn before I tan!”
Claire burst out laughing. “You only have two shades: translucent and lobster.”
“Okay, no one asked the golden child,” Sara said, waving a flip-flop at her. “Not all of us are blessed by the sun gods, Ms. Naturally Bronzed and Glowing.”
The girls loaded up the golf cart with towels, drinks, and enough snacks to survive a small apocalypse. Claire climbed into the front seat while the others piled in behind her.
It was only a five-minute ride to the beach access, but in girl-math? That was plenty of time to roast her alive.
“I bet Jaxon’s already texting other girls,” Taylor teased.
“Do you think he wears cologne to the beach, or does he just smell like confidence and regret?” Macie added dramatically.
Claire rolled her eyes so hard she could practically see her brain. “I will get up with him… when I feel like it.”
Macie leaned back. “Alright, alright. We’re just giving you shit. He seemed like a great guy.”
He did. That was the problem. Claire had been thinking about him all morning. But something in her held back. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the fear of being the one who cared more. Or maybe—deep down—she just wanted to know he wanted her enough to reach first.
But the ball was in her court now.
They pulled into the public beach access, and Claire grabbed her bag and followed the girls up the wooden walkway. As soon as they stepped onto the sand, reality hit them like a slap to the feet.
“Jesus it’s hot!” Macie shouted, hopping in place.
“Why does sand feel like it came straight from hell’s waiting room?” Taylor added, walking on her heels like a drunk flamingo.
They power-walked across the scorching stretch of sugar-soft sand like a group of women late for their lives.
“I can only imagine how we looked just now,” Taylor said between gulps of air.
“Probably like we were late to a damn speed-walking marathon,” Macie replied, breathless and laughing.
They finally reached the tide-packed, cooler sand near the water. Towels flew open. Umbrellas popped. Bottles of sunscreen sprayed in all directions like some kind of chaotic girl ritual.
Sara plopped down on her towel like a queen claiming her throne. “Alright, ladies. Let’s get some sand in those suits. I wanna see tan lines by the time we leave.”
Claire laid back, sunglasses sliding down her nose, the sun warming every inch of her skin.
But even with the ocean in front of her and her best friends beside her… her thoughts drifted.
