I felt Hunter’s eyes on me. The dog, a tubby black Lab who seemed entirely too trusting of strangers, loped happily after a group of birds at the edge of the surf, sending them flying and squawking away.
“Did you ever see the viral TikTok of the guy who got broken up with by AI? It was probably five or six years ago now. Maybe seven.”
The idea that I’d ever had much time in my life for social media was laughable, but he didn’t know that. I shook my head.
“Well, that was Jett. His boyfriend used ChatGPT to break up with him after almost a year of dating seriously. It crushed him. He swore off relationships after that, but then he ended up giving another guy a chance. Noah.”
I could tell this was going somewhere I didn’t want to go.
Didn’t want to, butneededto.
“What happened with Noah?”
“They dated for a while. Jett really liked him. It took him a while to trust the guy, but when he finally brought him to meet the family one Christmas in Montana, Noah tried hooking up with Jett’s cousin Wolfe.”
“What the fuck?”
“Yeah, it was bad. I mean, Wolfe’s hot, and he’s got that shy, moody thing going on. He’s also a celebrity’s son. Best I can figure, Noah wanted to get close to the fame? The money? I don’t know. But Wolfe’s other dad is an ex-Marine. Honestly, Noah’s lucky he didn’t get murdered that weekend. Jett was shocked. Embarrassed. And, well, hurt. As you can imagine.” He blew out a breath. “And poor Wolfe was horrified. The whole thing seemed to scare him off men completely, whereas Jett just swore off relationships.”
I didn’t say anything, my mind spinning as I tried rearranging what I knew of Jett now that he was no longer the man I’d thought I knew.
The knowledge of just how much I didn’t know about him enraged me. I wanted to wring the man’s neck.
As soon as I could get my hands on him.
“I need to find him, Hunter,” I finally said.
We’d already turned to head back, the dog running ahead to the house.
Before he could respond, I stopped and stared down at something that caught my eye.
There, in the semi-packed sand, was a tiny, perfect shell. A miniature conch.
A triton.
34
JETT
I’d almost beggedoff my great-aunt’s ridiculous matchmaking dinner party. In fact, after leaving Rabbit Island, I’d flown back to New York in a moment of weakness and found myself at Locke Maris’s front door.
His housekeeper had answered and looked at me with reserve. “Mr. Maris is out of town.”
“For how long?” I’d asked, feeling stupid that I didn’t know. “He’s not still in Italy, right?”
She’d shaken her head. “No. But I don’t know how long he’ll be gone. He didn’t say.” She eyed me. “And if he did, I wouldn’t tell a stranger his business.”
“I’m sorry. I’m… not a stranger. I promise. My name is Jett.” I’d swallowed and then made a decision. It wouldn’t make a difference to her, but it made a difference to me. “Jett Marian.”
Her smile had softened. “Well, Jett Marian. I can tell him you stopped by the next time he checks in, alright?”
I’d smiled and thanked her before walking away.
And I’d spent the entire flight to San Francisco vowing to take it as a sign. Locke Maris wasn’t meant for me. There were too many reasons to count. The sheer number of lies between us.The fact that he didn’t know the real me. Both of our histories with being workaholics and avoiding emotional entanglements.
And that didn’t even take into account the fact that he might still identify as straight.
So I’d arrived at Aunt Tilly’s “bachelor” party—to which she’d invited nothing but bachelors, for the most part—fully intending to put Locke Maris behind me—at least for the moment—and be the usual fun-time guy my family knew.
