Mason’s mouth curls up. “Aw, come on,” he says. “We’ll be uneven otherwise.”
I didn’t think about the fact that me leaving makes their number odd, and I feel immediately worse. Air gets trapped in my windpipe, and I sputter out, “I-I’m sorry.”
Mason full-on smirks because I justapologizedto him, and I want to kill myself. “You sure we can’t persuade you to stay?”
“Ace, it’s all good,” says Wes, coming to my rescue. “I can sit out if need be.”
Before Mason has a chance to respond, Malorie and Jamie bound into the room, chatting loudly and toting a pitcher of daiquiris. I squeeze Wes’s hand and use the distraction to slip away, up the stairs and deeper into the house.
I retreat to the bedroom on wobbly legs, trying not to panic. Trying to downplay the trembling in my fingers. Sweat coats my skin. My hair sticks to my neck. I drop onto the edge of themattress with my head in my hands and swallow down a scream. What do I do? What can I do?
Tell him the truth.
I stay seated for too long, paralyzed, before dragging myself to the bathroom to wash up. After, I crawl into bed and just lay there, listening to the din of the music and laughter drifting up from downstairs. My mind is exhausted, but my body is wired, and I don’t fall asleep. I disappear inside my own head, sinking down, down, deeper into the shadowy recesses of my mind.
It’s late when the bedroom door opens. My body tenses up, on full alert, but when I hear the whispered, “Ives?” the nerves ease.
I don’t know why I do it, but I shut my eyes. I don’t respond. I pretend to be asleep as he slides into the bed behind me. As he plants a kiss on my temple. As his breathing evens out.
I don’t sleep a wink.
I slipout of bed while the house is still silent and pull on one of Wes’s enormous sweatshirts, letting it swallow me whole. Careful to be quiet, I creep down the stairs and into the kitchen, noting that the place is a disaster from whatever games they played last night. Ignoring the mess, I push open the sliding door and step out onto the deck. The air in the house feels stale, but outside, I’m able to take a full breath.
Hovering at the railing, I watch the waves crash along the shore, the early morning sunlight sparkling off the water’s surface. The ocean breeze is more aggressive today, whipping my hair across my face. It feels like a slap, one I know I deserve, and I stand there and take it, allowing the wind to wreak havoc.
As I scan my surroundings, I suddenly realize that I’m not alone out here. Chloe sits in a rocking chair at the far end of the deck, staring off into the distance the same way I am.
“Morning,” I say quietly, walking over to her, but when she looks up at me, there’s something different about her expression. Something…off. She attempts a smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and I wonder if she’s hungover or just sleep-deprived like me.
“Hey.” Her gaze drops to the coffee cup clasped in her hands, but she doesn’t drink it. It’s filled to the brim despite how long she’s been sitting out here and probably cold now.
“Everything okay?” I ask, dropping into the seat beside her.
Her eyes snap up. On closer inspection, I notice that they’re slightly red-rimmed. Maybe even puffy, as though she’s been crying. “Why?”
I swallow. I don’t want to offend her by saying she looks off, so I search for something neutral to ask. “How was last night?”
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she debates my question, but before she has a chance to respond, male voices drift outside from the kitchen, drawing our attention.
I glance toward the window, and a shiver wracks down my spine at the sight of Wes talking to Mason. Without thinking, I hug my arms around my chest, wishing I could make myself small. Invisible. Beside me, Chloe jumps to her feet, and coffee sloshes over the edge of the mug and onto her sweatpants. She doesn’t seem to notice.
“I should shower,” she murmurs, eyes darting between the door and the window. Without another word, she retreats through the side door instead of the one leading to the kitchen, and I stare after her, wondering about her strange reaction.
It’s not long after that the deck door slides open, breaking my reverie. Wes’s voice wraps around me like a shield, blocking a bit of the windchill. “Hey, Ives. I brought you coffee.”
“Oh. Thank you,” I say, taking the mug from him. Letting the steam warm my face.
He smiles at me and plants a quick kiss on the top of my head. “Want to go for a walk on the beach when you’re done?”
I nod instantly, eager to get away from the house and spend some time just the two of us. “Definitely.”
Once I chug as much caffeine as possible, Wes and I make our way down to the beach. It’s even chillier out here, and I pull my hair into a bun to prevent lose strands from blowing in my face.
“I love the beach,” Wes tells me as we walk along the shoreline, hand in hand, our bare feet sinking into the sand. Away from the house, the tension in my shoulders eases a bit. I can almost pretend everything’s fine. “I’d like to live by it someday.”
“It’s beautiful,” I say, squeezing Wes’s hand and trying to ground myself in the here and now. “But what about hurricanes? And sharks?”
“I’ll test my luck against the hurricanes, and sharks won’t bother you. Not really.”
