Wild emotions pinwheeled inside my chest, and I hated that Seb could make me feel like this within minutes of seeing him again. I couldn’t think straight. The dog’s barking continued to echo around the beach as I struggled with my keys, and just when I was about to scream at the dog, Seb circled the screen door, ducking his head to get in my face.
“Paige. Please listen—”
“Stop it! Don’t touch me!”
He held up both hands in surrender. “Not touching, just trying to talk.”
“I said everything I wanted to say. Just go!” My trembling fingers finally got the door unlocked. I pushed it open and stepped inside, about to slam it in his face when he finally gave me a real answer.
“I didn’t come to Nana Malone’s funeral because I wasn’t in town, okay? I was in another state. I couldn’t.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Fine, I was also too fucking scared to come,” he said gruffly from the other side of the screen door.
ThatI believed.
“I was scared,” he repeated, “and I didn’t know how to reconnect with you after everything. It was spineless and selfish,and I’ve regretted it. Paige, listen to me. I’m sorry I was a such a fuckup. I know how this looks right now, with the state of the cottage and that bonfire fight back there—I get it, okay? I’ve been a coward, and I’m just really sorry.”
I stood in the cottage, staring back out at him. Part of me wanted to tell him that his absence made Nana’s death so much worse for me. That I was so alone last summer, and even until the moment the funeral ended, I kept looking to see if he’d come.
But I didn’t say any of that.
“Goddammit, Punkin!” he shouted at the black dog, who had nudged her snout between the wooden screen door and the doorframe and was pushing her way inside the cottage. Seb tried to grab her, but she wriggled away. “You can’t go inside right now! Son of a...”
Apparently, she could, and she was familiar enough with the cottage to make a beeline for the sofa.
“Punkin, you’re in big trouble.” Seb stepped into the house to coax her back outside, but she wasn’t budging.
“I vacuumed up a metric shit ton of sand from the cushions today,” I complained, grateful to have a distraction from old wounds. “No wonder it smelled so bad.”
“I’m trying to train her not to jump on furniture, but...”
“Next thing you’ll be telling me is thatshebroke the rocking chair and paintings.”
His head sagged, and he sighed dramatically. “Paige, will youpleasejust listen? I caught a couple of guys here last night. They were trashing your place, looking for something. I chased them away. I was planning on getting back here before you came home to clean up, but, you know. Shit happens.”
“What?You chased off a couple of guys... ?”
“Well,” he admitted. “Punkin chased them off. No one survives her barking attack.”
“Did the police catch them?”
“Police?”
I frowned. “You didn’t call the police.”
One brow arched as if he were incredulous that I’d even ask. “You’re joking, right?”
I supposed squatters weren’t exactly eager to call cops. “Fine, then who was it that broke in? Was it the Vanderburgs?”
He shook his head and shoved loose tendrils of hair out away from his face. “Nah, it wasn’t Paul, but I couldn’t get a good look at ’em. It was dark, and they were wearing ski masks. One was pretty big, all muscle. The other guy was small. When Punkin and I showed up, they scattered and took off on a pair of motorcycles.”
I blinked at him and looked around. Ski masks? Was this a Seb-sized lie? By the look on his face, he was telling the truth—I always knew. Well,almostalways.
Who would try to rob me? If any of the so-called dock bros decided to break in, the ones who worship Pretty Paul, they’d just stumble over here in a drunken haze. Criminal masterminds they were not. Silly to even try to break in because there wasn’t much of anything of value in the cottage. And there wasn’t anything stolen, except...
“My paddleboard! Wait. They rode off with it?” I tried to picture it being carted away on a motorcycle. God knew it wasn’t worththatmuch. “Who breaks in a house just to steal a paddleboard?”
