Austin pointed a finger at me, a hint of a smile raising his lips. “If you’re gonna stick around, you’ll need to learn how to handle a rod. It’s embarrassing otherwise. I’ll take you out sometime. Show you the basics, so you have a shot at keeping up with Brynn.”
I tried to laugh it off, but the offer felt damn good. Like a formal welcome ceremony for a local. “Thanks. I’d love that.”
Eli launched into a wild story, mostly directed at Austin, about a grouper that nearly capsized their cousin’s boat. Austin just rolled his eyes.
Brynn leaned close and whispered, “See? I told you they’re all softies.”
I looked at the battered longboard, the turquoise walls, the people who’d already decided I was one of their own.
And I felt it, for the first time. Belonging.
The second round went down smoother than the first. Eventually, the Coleridge brothers moved on to an impromptu darts tournament, and Brynn and I were alone again.
“So, where are you staying?” I asked, the practical question rising to the surface.
“I’m in a little rental flat for now. Doris is stillin the apartment above the Corner Scoop. She’s got to pack up a lifetime of stuff before she moves in with her sister, so I told her to take her time.” She smiled a little shyly. “It’s a mess, but it’s mine for now. What are your plans?”
“I’ll head back to Atlanta tomorrow. I gave two weeks’ notice, so I’ll need that time to wrap up my projects. Then probably another week to pack up my life and get out of my lease.”
Her smile faltered for a second. “You’ll be gone three weeks?”
“No longer,” I promised, reaching across the table to take her hand. “You don’t need to worry about me staying there. I’ll be making some calls starting tomorrow. That listing I showed you in the ice cream shop—a space on Main Street a couple of blocks from the Scoop—really caught my eye.”
“Yeah?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
I grinned. “Yeah. I’m going to put an offer on it ASAP. It’s not huge, but it’s got great visibility. And a one-bedroom apartment right above it, so both our living situations could be set right out of the gate.”
Brynn’s mouth formed a perfectO, then broke into a wide, beautiful smile. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope,” I said, a wave of pride rising. “As soon as I saw it, I had a feeling that was the one. I’ve gotten better at recognizing that over the last month.”
Brynn’s smile faltered as she twisted a napkin. “Do you ever worry that we’re just setting ourselves up to fail? That this is all too much, too fast?”
“Maybe,” I admitted. “But I’d rather try and fail than chicken out before the starting gun.”
“Me too.” She squeezed my hand, her eyes shining. “New homes for each of us. We could fix them both up together.”
“I’d offer to help, but I nearly lost a finger assembling IKEA shelves last year.”
“Maybe not such a great idea,” she said with a teasing laugh. “But I like the idea of you trying.”
The future, which had been a formless void just a few days ago, was now a blueprint. A complicated, wonderful blueprint we could build together.
When we left, the late sun was a melted orange over the sea, turning the water to copper. Brynn looped her arm through mine as we navigated the sidewalk. We strolled slowly, in no hurry, the evening breeze thick with salt and possibility.
“Wanna come up?” Brynn asked, nodding to the row of brightly painted townhouses up the next block. “You can see my hand-me-down sofa. It’s a real work of art.”
“Lead the way,” I said. “I need to see what I’m up against.”
The short walk was full of lazy conversation—plans for porch furniture, which sports teams we’d support if forced at gunpoint, where to get the best Cuban sandwich within fifty miles.
We reached her door. Brynn unlocked it and gestured for me to step inside. The place was barely furnished, with a few cardboard boxes by the entryway and a navy-blue sofa that looked like it had survived several hurricanes. The kitchen was clean and relatively updated. On the counter sat a single mug, bright yellow, withTEACHERS ARE MAGICin blue glitter.
“Make yourself at home,” Brynn said, kicking offher shoes.
The space was unassuming, but it already radiated her personality—practical, a little messy, endlessly hopeful.
“I like it,” I said.
