Jeremy follows my gaze and finally smirks. The kind that says,You’re not as subtle as you think you are, bro.
His smirk fades. “We need to talk,” he says, quieter now.
The team disperses to grab supplies, and before I can come up with an excuse, Jeremy yanks me aside behind one of the display boards.
“I’m just gonna shoot it straight,” Jeremy says. “You and Rorie? There’s something there. Cosmic-level shit. Like fate and fanfic had a baby.”
I blink. “That’s?—.”
He holds up a finger. “But, if you’re not serious? If you’re eventhinkingabout ghosting her or playing some casual office-rivalry hookup game.Again.I will personally remove your balls with a souvenir spork from this event. Capish?”
I blink again. “Yeah.”
“Good.” He nods, adjusting his sunglasses like some mafia beach dad. “She’s been through enough. Her ex did a number on her. And before that? Life did a number on her. She doesn’t need a third round with a guy who doesn’t know what he wants.”
I open my mouth, but Jeremy’s not finished.
“Now, don’t get me wrong—part of me ships it. Like, hard. Youtwo have that tensiony enemies-to-lovers, workplace rivalry thing going on. Makes for great drama. But I care more about Rorie’s heart than I do your cheekbones, and trust me, that’s saying something.”
I laugh. I can’t help it.
He smirks. “That’s right. I’m funny and emotionally evolved. Try to keep up.”
I shake my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my mouth. “You done?”
“For now. Just know I’m watching you like a hawk.” Jeremy points two fingers at his eyes, then at me. “A hawk with killer intuition and excellent taste in prey.”
“I understand.”
He claps me on the shoulder. “Excellent. Now, giddy up, motherfucker. We’re about to build the kind of sandcastle that makes grown men weep.”
I smile. This guy is actually freaking hilarious.
“I’ve been training for this since my kindergarten sandbox days. Don’t slow me down.”
He rejoins the team and immediately makes a wildly unhelpful suggestion about decorating the castle with seaweed hair.
We get to work, and the beach becomes anarchy in the best way.
Some groups go fullGame of Thrones, others sculpt mermaid thrones or giant octopi. One team is building a nearly ten-foot replica of Poseidon complete with abs and a trident made out of driftwood. Another creates what looks like a sand coliseum with actual bleachers.
And then there’s one poor team near the shoreline who’ve clearly given up. Their castle is a single lumpy dome with a sad stick flag poking out the top like it’s begging to be put out of its misery.
Jeremy stares at it. “Tragic.”
“Mercy kill?” I offer.
“Nah. Let it suffer. Builds character.”
We all laugh.
We’re hot. We’re sweaty. We’re covered in sand. But weirdly? I’m feeling good. Better than good.
Because Rorie looks up at me now. And when she smiles, bashfully, it feels like something real is finally taking shape.
CHAPTER 42
EVERYTHING, ALL AT ONCE
