Dayton is standing at least ten yards away at the bar, ordering. Cocktails and Chaos is packed because of Marg Fest, but we snagged an incredible spot, looking over the water, right as someone was leaving. Their empty mai tai cups still litter the table.
“Um, that tall guy over at the bar.”
I turn to look, but Dayton is the tallest one by at least five inches.
“What do you mean?” I whisper back, even though there’s no way he can hear us.
“The vibes between you two are thick with tension. It’s giving future hate sex.” She tosses her blond hair over her shoulder.
I gape at her. “You’ve got to be kidding. He’s mystepbrother.”
She snorts and rolls her eyes. “Come on. We both know you’re nottechnicallyrelated. You didn’t grow up together. You met in high school. I swear, he’s flirting with you.”
Savannah pipes up from across the table, “I wish I’d been there to witness your dynamic in high school.”
“It was entertaining, to say the least,” Juniper says.
I lift my eyes to watch him at the bar. A skinny, tan blond girl approaches him. I look away, out toward the breathtaking ocean. The salty breeze brushes over my skin.
“He’s hated me since the day we met. We didn’t see each other for ten years because I refused to visit my mom when he was here.”
Savannah shrugs. “Like I said, I wish I’d been there to witness your original interactions. Let’s look him up on social media.”
He’s talking to the blonde girl and paying. I chew my bottom lip as an uncomfortable feeling curls up in my stomach.
I don’t care who he’s talking to. I’m just concerned she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into.
“Is this him?” Sav turns her phone to show me Dayton’s profile. It’s outdated, with the last picture he posted being from his freshman year of college.
I nod. “Yes.”
She taps on the tagged photos to see if anyone has posted something recently about him. She gasps.
“What?”
She taps on the most recently tagged photo of him. My throat constricts when I see why.
“Dude, I literally thought that was you. You have the exact same hair.”
The picture is of Dayton with a woman whose hair is oddly similar to mine—a thick honey blond. It’s not quite as long as mine, and hers is in perfect curls and not the messy beach waves mine usually is. Her face is hidden because she’s turned toward him, but he’s looking down at her. The candid photo was taken in a nice-looking restaurant, with candles and wine on the table they’re sitting at. He’s in a suit, and she’s wearing a crimson-red dress. My already-tense stomach clenches.
“Who is it?” I lean closer, careful not to touch the phone and accidentally like it.
Mia and Juniper crowd in closer to see the screen.
“Her name is Noelle. The caption says,Memory from two years ago. I miss our wine nights. She tagged him and two other people. It was posted a week ago,” Sav says.
So, Dayton had a girlfriend two years ago. If they’re not still together, why would she post him?
“She’s a model,” Mia muses after clicking on the profile. “You could be twins with that hair.”
“He’s coming back,” I whisper-yell.
Sav exits the app and hides the phone under the table. All the girls look around, attempting to act casual. Right on Dayton’s heels, Axel and his friends are walking up. Dayton sets my and Sav’s drinks in front of us. A waitress is following behind him with the rest.
“Thank you,” I mumble, my mind still reeling about the girl with hair like mine.
It’s just a coincidence.
