Suddenly, she drops her head and laughs. “Tate’s probably been giving him some strawberry candy or something. Please can we forget I said anything and talk about something else?”
I’m not eager to linger on it either. “Well, we had our first research breakthrough the other week. Or did Wren already tell you?”
Eryn shakes her head and I start telling her about blackberries and the smuggler’s hole, but pause when I notice her eyes glazing over.
“I guess maybe it doesn’t sound like much, but it’s actually kind of a big deal.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice sincere. “History was my worst subject in school and I just haven’t gotten over that. But if you’re excited, then I’m excited for you.”
I laugh lightly. “Thanks, but we don’t have to talk about history. I get enough of that during the day.” That’s a white lie. I could talk about it all the time, but most people aren’t like me.
I push the thought of Wren out my mind as we step up to the counter to order.
We have to walk a little over a block to the beach once we have our pizza, and since I’m going to spare her more history talk, I ask her about baking instead.
Eryn beams like a lighthouse at sunset when she talks about the differences between sourdough and yeasted bread, how rough puff saves time but lacks the delicate layers of traditional puff pastry, and why she prefers Italian buttercream over American for its smooth texture. She’s got that perfect mix of knowledge and excitement, and it’s clear that baking isn’t just a job for her, but a craft she’s always refining.
I’m kind of speechless when she’s done. “And why aren’t you in pastry school somewhere, or, I don’t know, off winningThe Great British Baking Show?”
Her cheeks turn pink as she smiles. “I’ve thought about it, but pastry school doesn’t really fit in with everything else. Wren would never want leave Nantucket and we’ve been through so much that I can’t imagine a future without him in it.”
I hesitate. “Does he know that you want to go? Maybe he’d be more open than you think.”
“Oh, no,” she says offhandedly. “It’s fine. I do love it here and the café is great, and I even like being a mermaid. I don’t really need anything else.”
But I can’t help but notice that she seems a little less bright as we step out onto the sand.
Nineteen
Wren
The beach buzzes with life, the sound of laughter and the crackle of sparklers blending with the steady, rhythmic rush of waves slapping against the shore. We’ve found a quieter spot farther down, tucked behind a brush of grass that offers at least the illusion of privacy. Above us, the last traces of daylight are slipping away, leaving the sky a vast, endless stretch of black, waiting for the first spark of color to ignite it.
Tate spots the girls first, or more precisely, the pizza boxes they’re carrying. He jumps to his feet, kicking sand in his haste, and laughing when I shout after him in annoyance.
It’s good to hear him laugh that easily. The past few weeks have been a little strained between us, but tonight? It feels like we’re okay again. I never told him I’d tried—and failed—to convince Dad to change his mind about pulling me from the tour. I haven’t mentioned it to Lili either. As far as she knows, Tate’s been helping me practice. I doubt either one of them will bring it up tonight, but eventually, I’ll have to. For now, though, I focus on their familiar shapes, drawing closer.
I pick out Eryn easily, her silhouette etched against the fading light as she repeatedly bats Tate’s hand away from the pizza box. Then Lili, smoothly reaching up to pluck his captain’s hat off his head and tossing it like a frisbee into the grass.
I’m still watching her, a half smile playing on my lips, when Tate plops down beside me. He follows my gaze, then looks back at me with a sly grin. “You know your girlfriend is the one on the left, right?”
I roll my eyes at him. “Don’t be an idiot.”
“I’m just saying.” He shrugs, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You looked a little lost there for a second. And it’s not the first time I’ve noticed.” He pulls his hat back onto his head, his smirk fully fading. “Might want to be careful. Could be someone else gets confused, too.”
I brush the sand off my hands. The cool night air does little to calm the warmth creeping up my neck. That’s not what’s happening, not with me and not with anyone else.
When Eryn reaches us, I grab her hand, pulling her down beside me. I don’t even glance at Lili when she sits across from us.
Tate, now fully in food mode, doesn’t notice either way. A whale could suddenly beach itself right in front of us and he wouldn’t care. He laces his fingers together and stretches them out in front of him before snatching the pizza box out of Lili’s hands as she’s opening it.
“Seriously?” she says.
He shoves an entire slice into his mouth, accordion style, and grins at her.
Lili deliberately lifts her eyes to his hat. “Didn’t that used tohave a golden anchor pinned to it?” Her voice is smooth, laced with playful mischief. “Oh no, did it fall off in the grass?”
“What!?” Tate chokes out, because if there’s one thing that could possibly distract him from his stomach, it’s his hat. Or maybe his boat.
