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She blinked. “Do you not know the cottage I’m talking about? It’s the one with all those roses. It’s very cute.” She waved her hand toward the boxes. “I’ll have to go through what I have, because I don’t really remember, but I’m thinking I’ll have to throw out anything that isn’t sufficiently beachy enough. I mean, who gets to live on a beach? I would be selling myself short if I didn’t lean into all the sea glass ornaments, blue and white furnishings, and sand dollar motifs available, don’t you think?”

His heart was pounding so hard he was a little bit afraid it might burst. Straight out of his chest like a monster in one of those movies Tank loved so much, because he claimed it was soothing to see fictional people die horribly.

Not that this was the time to explore his friend’s psychological issues.

“Raemy,” he managed to say, biting her name out, and sitting up so there could be no mistake. “You can’t be serious.”

“I signed the lease this afternoon.” Her brows went up. “Maybe you don’t consider that serious, but I do. There are now legal penalties if I change my mind. Which I’m not going to do. Because as I’ve told you before, I love it here.”

“You can’t.” He said it sharp and hard.

But Raemy, being Raemy, didn’t react to that the way anyone else would have. She didn’t recoil, or seem remotely intimidated. Or snap right back at him the way he probably would have if their positions were reversed here.

“Not only can I, I did,” she replied, and smiled at him.

Smiled at him. At a time like this.

“You can’t live here, Raemy,” he threw at her. “This can’t be permanent. You’re leaving. That’s the only reason⁠—”

“Oh,” she said. And Noah noticed, through the haze of panic inside him, that she didn’t seem particularly surprised. Her voice was quiet, but not hurt. “Is that what’s been happening? I guess that makes sense. I knew there was no possible way that you were this okay with it. You thought it was temporary.”

“It is temporary,” he retorted, that panic inside him picking up weight and force. “It’s never been anything but temporary.” He threw his hand out at all the boxes. “You have to pack these in your car and leave. You can’t stay here. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

Raemy only smiled at him. There was a look in her eyes that he wasn’t sure he liked, particularly because it seemed to stick a little too hard to him. Like she was rearranging things inside of him with all of that blue, and he hated it. Not that it stopped her.

If anything, her eyes looked bluer than ever. And his chest ached so much he was starting to think that she, herself, was a mortal wound.

Then, worse still, she leaned forward and kissed him. On his cheek.

“No,” she said. “I’m not leaving. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t sound sorry,” was the only thing he could come up with, as a fully grown man who had served in the goddamned Marines for twelve years. Not a whiny kid.

And yet.

“Because I’m not sorry about staying,” she agreed, and if he wasn’t mistaken, her smile only got more fond. She was killing him. “I’m sorry that you can’t be as happy about it as I am, that’s all.”

And then she rolled over, got out of the bed, and wandered off towards the shower like she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said.

Or had no intention of listening to him, even if she had.

Noah didn’t know which was worse.

8

Raemy let the hot spray beat down on her. She piled her hair up on the top of her head, because she didn’t really feel like washing it tonight, let the water pound into her skin, and wondered what would happen next.

Would he storm out? Would he start...punching things? She really didn’t know.

What she did know was that the look on his face was sheer betrayal. Aimed right at her, as if the boxes in her hotel room were made of deception and lies instead of her grandmother’s collection of miniature glass animals and her own accidental collection of irreverent dishtowels.

And while Raemy certainly didn’t like him being upset, she was actually more relieved than anything else. Because now the other shoe had finally dropped. She’d known it would.

She’d known it was only a matter of time.

Because no way Noah Kendrick, who thought he was responsible for every bad thing that had ever happened in the United States Marine Corps while he was in it—and possibly also throughout its entire previous history—was just going to allow himself to slip into the relationship that they’d been having. She’d expected dire warnings by now. Lists of acceptable behavior. Lectures—with a frown—about what was and what wasn’t going to happen because of this or that very important (read: bullshit) reason that was mostly him not wanting to deal with his feelings.

On any topic.