Against my will, I almost smiled too.
We reached a quieter stretch of beach where someone had left a cooler half-buried in the sand. Stella crouched, pulled out two cans, and handed one to me.
I looked at it.
Hard seltzer.
Of course.
“Peace offering?” she asked.
“Temporary ceasefire.”
“Fair.”
I cracked it open.
So did she.
For a moment we stood there facing the ocean, drinking in silence while two beautiful, overgrown athletic disasters probably continued ruining the vibe behind us.
Stella sighed.
“For what it’s worth,” she said, “I didn’t want you hurt.”
My hand tightened around the can.
“I know.”
The words surprised me because they were true.
That was the worst part.
Stella looked over. “Do you hate me?”
I stared at the water.
“No,” I said honestly. “But I’m trying to.”
She nodded once.
I took another sip, cold bubbles burning down my throat.
Her mouth curved again. “You’re not subtle.”
“I’m extremely subtle.”
“You looked at me earlier like you were mentally choosing where to hide my body.”
“I had options.”
“Respect.”
A laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it.
We both looked back toward the bonfire.
The boys were still in clusters. Drew stood with Dante and Jace near the keg table, no longer being restrained, but still vibrating with leftover violence. Tristan stood several yards away with Kane, his head turned toward the ocean.
