Marigold didn’t answer. She leaned into him, pressing the side of her face into his shirt. Letting him hold her as they swayed to the rhythm of her last few sobs, and then when she’d finished, the crash of the waves against the shore.
CHAPTER NINETEENOlivia
Olivia trudged back up the rocky path, wincing with every step. She seemed to be the only person making the ascent alone—everyone else trekking from the beach up to the golf carts did so in pairs. She wasn’t sure where Zack had disappeared to. He’d done an impressive job pretending to be her boyfriend all night and was entitled to a break, but his unexplained absence stung more than it should. Here she was, once again, leaving a party alone.
Most of the time, Olivia was totally fine with being single. Her demanding job and full social calendar left her very little time to feel legitimately lonely, but she was hit by occasional waves of wistfulness. Sunday afternoons were tough: those hours between boozy brunch with friends and evenings at home with takeout and whatever prestige drama was on HBO. Sometimes she’d bring work to do in the park, but it was hard to focus with so many seemingly happy couples around, some lying with the their heads in their partners’ laps, other chasing after dogs orpushing baby strollers. But special occasions were the worst—there was something about leaving a festive event by herself, the jarring disconnect between the lively party chatter and the heavy silence of the Uber, that served to emphasize Olivia’s aloneness.
She felt it more keenly tonight than she had at all the other weddings and galas she’d attended this year. After her almost-date with Andrew, she’d spent hours fantasizing about spending this weekend with him. And then when that dream had dissolved, she’d taken comfort in Zack’s attentions, not caring that it’d all been an act. It’d been enough to make her feel wanted,chosen.
By the time she made it to the top, most of the chauffeured golf carts had left, leaving just a few locals like Olivia who’d driven themselves. Thank goodness she hadn’t had much to drink and was fit to get behind the wheel. It was a relief not to have to make any more small talk, but she couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if her foot had kept her from completing the climb. How long would it have taken someone to notice that she hadn’t made it back to the inn?
She limped over to her cart and was about to start the engine when someone called her name. A moment later, Dylan jogged up and launched himself into the passenger seat. “Can I get a ride?”
Olivia suppressed a groan. “What happened? The inn was supposed to send enough golf carts for everyone staying there.”
“I hung back on purpose. I needed to make sure that Bri girl didn’t try to follow me up to my room.”
The words “that Bri girl” rankled her. Bri wasn’t Olivia’s favorite person by a long shot, but she was objectively pretty, smart enough, and more fun to talk to than a lot of Marigold’s friends. Certainly more fun than Dylan. “Oh yeah?” Olivia said, musclememory compelling her to glance over her shoulder before she pulled onto the road, despite the fact that there was no sign of traffic. “Why? I thought you were single.”
“Does that mean I have to sleep with every girl who throws herself at me?”
“No offense, but she definitely didn’t seem to be throwing herself at you. She was just drunk and flirty.”
“Fine, whatever. I’m just getting tired of hookups, you know? I want to fall in love.”
“No, I get it,” Olivia said, softening. “It’s tough out there.”
“Yeah, and I’m so over the apps.”
“Same. The gaslighting makes me feel truly insane. Like, sir, if you liked me enough to make out with me outside my building, why wouldn’t you want a second date? It doesn’t make any sense! I get ghosting after you’ve slept with someone. I mean, it’s shitty, but I understand the logic. But if you’re attracted to someone, why would you disappearbeforeyou’ve even had sex? Have you ever done that?”
“Done what?”
“Made out with a woman on a first date and then ghosted her.”
Dylan shrugged. “Yeah, probably.”
“Butwhy? Explain it to me. If you like her enough to kiss her at the end of the first date, why wouldn’t you want to go on a second date?”
He didn’t exactly scratch his head, but he ran his fingers through his long hair. “If she’s hot, I’ll kiss her. Because kissing is fun. But that doesn’t mean I necessarily want to see her again.”
Olivia eased up on the gas as they entered a stretch of road covered by a canopy of trees that blocked most of the moonlight. There was a small pothole up ahead that sometimes caught herby surprise in the dark. “But if she’s hot and you had fun—and you say you’re looking to fall in love—why wouldn’t you want to see her again? That’s how this works.”
“Because I don’t want to waste my time when it’s not the extraordinary, life-changing kind of love I’m looking for.”
“How can you know that after one date?”
“Trust me, I know. When I meet the right woman, it’s going to feel electrifying. I’m not gonna go home after to scroll on my phone and jerk off. I’ll stay up all night writing the best short story of my life, then go for a run at sunrise.”
“That’s not love. That’s cocaine.”
Dylan turned to glare at her. “Real loveisa drug.
“Dude, no woman is going to make you feelhigh. Especially not on a first date. You’re looking for some manic pixie dream girl that doesn’t exist.”
“I’m not gonna apologize for having high standards.” He paused then said, “So what’s the deal with Emerson?”
“What about her?” Olivia asked flatly.
