When I opened my eyes, Jade was still laughing with Shani. Still not looking.
But her grip on her drink had changed. A small shift. Barely noticeable.
But I noticed.
And yeah—I hated how much that made my chest tighten.
Tristan let out a low whistle behind me. “Messy, Holt.”
I turned away from Bianca, done with the performance. “Let them stay,” I said, half to no one. “It’s a free beach.”
But my eyes drifted back to her anyway.
Jade Bryan.
Unimpressed. Unreachable.
And slowly,definitely, becoming the only thing I wanted.
She practically ran out of class after I said it.
You’re not really my type.
The second the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Not because they weren’t true. Hell, maybe they were. Maybe I didn’t even know what my type was anymore. But because the look in her eyes before she bolted stuck with me for hours.
Pride. Wounded but unbroken.
I should’ve just let her walk away after the kiss at the bonfire. Should’ve left it a moment. But no. I had to go digging.
I told the guys I couldn’t find her on social. Said she vanished.
The truth?
Ididtry.
And when that turned up nothing, I got creative.
It started with a casual comment to Marta, our housekeeper, while she folded sheets in the linen hall.
“Hey, you still go to that book club with the old ladies in Brenton Bay?”
She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a retirement home, Leo. We read actual literature.”
“Right, sorry. I just… thought I heard someone mention a new girl in town. Teenager. Maybe moved in with her aunt?”
Her pause was all I needed.
“You mean Susan Bryan’s niece?”
Bingo.
I played it cool. Acted like I maybe met her through someone—name slipped my mind. I didn't press too hard. Just enough to plant the idea that I wascurious.Interested, but not creepy.
Marta loved gossip more than espresso. And her loyalty could always be… softened. I made a mental note to pick up that imported dark roast she loved next time I was at the marina café.
By the end of the week, I had an address.
She lived on the edge of the bay.Old cottage near the cliffs. Not exactly beachfront luxury, but with a view to kill for. The kind of place no one from Royal Oaks ever talked about, because it didn’t have a gate or a valet or an HOA-approved landscaping plan.
