“We figured Jax brought you home after we fell asleep,” Taylor continued. “But when we woke up and you weren’t there, we kinda panicked. So…”
“We came over here,” Sara finished, raising a brow.
Jaxon chimed in smoothly. “We were watching a movie. One minute we’re on the couch, the next—it’s morning.”
Sara crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. “I believe you’re leaving out a few key details,” she said with a laugh.
Desperate to redirect the conversation, Jaxon clapped his hands. “How about I make us some lunch?”
“Yes, please,” Claire said quickly, standing. “I’m gonna go get dressed.”
She slipped upstairs, her heartbeat still trying to slow from everything that had happened—and everything they’d almost walked in on. As the girls chatted downstairs like they hadn’t just interrupted a full-blown love fest, Claire stood in front of the bathroom mirror, ran her fingers through her tangled hair, and did her best to make herself look halfway presentable. She threw on the same clothes she’d worn the night before and padded back down.
Jaxon was in the kitchen, bare feet planted, head slightly tilted as he seasoned the steaks he’d pulled from the fridge like nothing could shake him. Claire walked up behind him and kissed his shoulder, letting her lips linger just long enough.
She leaned in close, voice low and soft against his ear. “Sorry about them… again. Where are they, anyway?”
He didn’t skip a beat—just smiled and nodded toward the back door.
Claire grabbed two beers from the fridge, set one on the counter for him, and took a breath.
Then she stepped outside—sunlight, secrets, and something like love still clinging to her skin.
22
Borrowed Time
Jaxonstoodoverthegrill, sipping a beer, the heat from the flames warming more than just the food. His eyes drifted to the dock, where the girls sat in a cluster—barefoot, sun-kissed, laughing like summer itself was theirs to keep.
But his gaze always landed on Claire.
And selfishly, he wondered.
What if this was every day?
What if she was every day?
The thought rooted itself in his chest, solid and dangerous. Because in the back of his mind, he already knew what it would feel like when she left.
Like the air would go still. Like something vital had been yanked from him.
He took a deep breath, flipped the steaks, and muttered quietly to himself, “I think I’ve fallen for her.”
Even saying it out loud felt reckless. Chaotic. Unreal.
They hadn’t known each other that long. Not technically. But the connection? The way she looked at him like he was the only steady thing in a spinning world? That didn’t feel like infatuation.
“How long does it take to fall in love, anyway?” he asked the silence.
No answer came.
But across the dock, Claire was looking right at him.
And when their eyes met, something shifted. Something deep. Her chest tightened. Her breath caught in her throat, not from nerves—but from knowing.
This wasn’t casual.
This was soul-deep.
