Love is a Roller Coaster: A Sweet Second Chance Romantic Comedy (Sunkissed Summer Novellas Book 1)

Chapter One

In the last three years,seven months, and twelve days, I have learned three things:

1. If you find out that your boyfriend is cheating on you, don’t accept his apology. He will only do it again.

2. If you have disregarded item 1, for the love of all that sparkles, do not get engaged to said boyfriend.

3. And, if by some incredible lapse of judgment you have disregarded items 1 and 2, do not be surprised when you find your fiancé making out with his best man’s sister one week before your wedding. No, you should pack your bags and embark on the honeymoon you planned to Southern California all alone.

And that’s why I’m standing here, in front of the Blue Coast Inn, trying to find the courage to go inside and check in. For my honeymoon. Alone.

“Pull it together, Brooke,” I say to myself. “You’re better than this. You don’t need a man.”

I square my shoulders and step inside the front door, pulling my suitcase behind me. A young woman with dark brown skin, her brown hair braided with intricate detail, greets me with a warm smile at the front desk. “Hi, there! Checking in?”

“Yes,” I confirm, reaching in my wallet for my ID. “I’m Brooke Westfield, checking in for the week.”

“Great.” She takes my driver’s license and types away on the keyboard. “Oh! Welcome to your honeymoon, and congratulations!”

I swallow hard. There’s no avoiding the awkward questions. The plane ride wasn’t terrible, since there were a few empty seats throughout and it wasn’t too obvious that I was missing my fiancé. But here, in this tiny inn with only fifteen rooms, I can’t hide the truth. They’ll see me coming in and out—alone—for the next week.

“It’s just me,” I say brightly, pasting on the smile my mother taught me so well. “There was a change in plans.”

Her eyes widen slightly, but she catches herself and regains her composure quickly. Impressive. She must have been trained well. “We’re happy to have you. I see you have a…” She clears her throat. “Couple’s massage booked for the end of the week. Should I switch that to a single?”

“Yes, please.” I smooth down my dress, a fitted teal satin fabric with a pencil skirt. Maybe I’m a little overdressed for the beach, but my mother always taught me to look my best, especially on an airplane.

“Here is your key,” she says, handing me a card in an envelope with the number 202. “We have complimentary breakfast every morning until 10:00 a.m. You can take any of the chairs over here to the beach”—she gestures to the right of her desk—“and we have bikes you can take out for the day as well. We hope you enjoy your stay!”

“Thank you,” I reply. I find my way to the elevator and climb in, pressing the button to go up to the only other level in this building. There’s also a staircase, but I have my luggage to carry this time. With only fifteen rooms, they have five rooms on the bottom level and ten above.

I’m in the honeymoon suite.

I scan my card at room 202 and open the door, immediately feeling the ocean breeze blowing through the screen that leads to the balcony. The main attraction of the giant room is, of course, the enormous bed with a white down comforter and fluffy pillows that beg for a nap. On top of the bed is a heart made of rose petals, and in the center is a bottle of champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.

“More for me,” I say to myself, grabbing a strawberry and savoring the juicy, sweet, and sour bite. I wander around the room, noting the jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, then step out onto the balcony. I take in a deep breath, enjoying the early June ocean air. This inn is near the sand, with the breaking waves about twenty feet away. It’s incredible. The beach is full of families, kids playing and building sandcastles, and a few surfers dot the glittering waves.

The Sunny Girls would probably enjoy hearing from me. They’re my former college roommates, back when we were all students at the University of Colorado, living in an old house together on Sunny Drive. There are six of us altogether—me, Chloe, Ava, Meg, Sadie, and Maggie—and they’re my best friends in the entire world. We’ve been through it all together, and they were supposed to be my bridesmaids just three days ago. When I told them I called off the wedding, they supported me one hundred percent.

Even so, they’re worried about me. After all, they’ve been around since the beginning of my relationship with Landon. And, yes, they warned me about him from the get-go. But I was too na?ve and enamored with his charm to see his true, smarmy interior. So while I know they were relieved that I broke off the wedding, they’re worried about how I’m coping.

I think I’m doing just fine, thank you very much.

I turn my back to the ocean and open my phone’s front-facing camera for a selfie. I’m still not used to my recently cut blonde bob, a rash decision after I broke things off with Landon. Sadie even came along to the salon with me, and she’s such a good friend that she cut her hair to her shoulders, too. The loose curls I did this morning are still holding well, but my makeup has smudged slightly under my light blue eyes, so I wipe those clean and smile brightly for the camera. Happy with the picture, I send it to the group chat.

Just arrived, the room and view are amazing! Can’t wait to start my week vacation!

The messages pour in immediately. Well, from everyone except Sadie, who left early for her job at Camp Brower and has very sporadic cell service.

Chloe

Beautiful!

Ava

Yes, girl!! Looks amazing!

Meg

Enjoy!

Maggie

Go enjoy that sunshine!

I send back some heart emojis, thankful for the girls that have my back no matter what. With a sigh, I realize I should probably text my parents, too. My mom has been so worried about me ever since I called off the wedding, concerned about all my future possibilities of “success,” aka living like a trophy wife.

She actually tried to convince me to change my mind and go through with the wedding. “A life of comfort may be worth a few indiscretions here and there,” she had said.

I told her I’d rather be single forever than live a lie.

And then she dropped it. She means well, even if she’s a little clueless. And I understand why. Having grown up with next to nothing, then getting married to my father and transitioning to high-class living has skewed her perspectives a little. She’s happy being defined as a wife and mother.

But I wouldn’t be.

So I send my parents a quick text message.

I’m here! Looking forward to a week of relaxation. Love you both.

My dad just gives my message a thumbs up. He’s not cold, he just doesn’t know how to text. Besides, he’s probably just at Green Pines, Colorado’s ultra-exclusive country club for the top businessmen. Landon tried everything to get in, but he was never accepted. Serves him right.

My mom’s reply, on the other hand…

Wonderful, darling. I hope you enjoy your time. Don’t forget to order a few mimosas for me. And don’t think too hard about your future or you’ll get wrinkle lines. We’ll see you next week and discuss everything, don’t you worry.

Oh, Mom.

I lock my phone and toss it on the bed behind me, then take another moment to appreciate the gorgeous ocean literally beneath my feet. I watch the surfers for a few minutes, appreciating the grace and control they have over their boards. Not that I’d ever try. I wouldn’t even want to go swimming in the ocean.

One of them rides a wave until it fizzles out, then hops off his board. He disappears under the water for a moment, then emerges, flicking his brown hair back. Even with a wetsuit on, I can tell he’s got a great body. I watch him for a few moments as he grabs his board and walks onto the shore, and I get the strangest sense that I’ve seen him before.

He walks across the sand, directly under my balcony, and his eyes flick up to me.

I suck in a breath.

No.

It can’t be.

But the gleam in his chestnut brown eyes is unmistakable.

It’s Tyler Matthews.

I drop to the ground and start army crawling back inside my room, not an easy task in a fitted dress. He couldn’t have recognized me, right? It’s been five years. I’m sure I don’t look like I did when I was nineteen.

Deep breaths, Brooke. He was just surfing. It’s unlikely you’ll run into him again this week.