Chapter 9
Ninth Grade
Dear Diary,
I will never figure out Walker Collins! He totally flirts with me at school, and I guess I flirt back…okay, I know I flirt back. I’m the worst friend ever. I promised Capri I wouldn’t like him, and if she saw me with him, she’d be so hurt. So, from now on, I’m NOT flirting with Walker. Ever again! I don’t care how fun it is to talk to him. This isn’t something I’m just saying to say. I really mean it. I’m loyal to Capri. Besides, it’s not like Walker likes me. He flirts with every girl in school. I’m SO over it!
Jane
I slamthe kitchen faucet off, shoving a wet paper towel in Walker’s hand.
“Thanks.” He places the towel over the cut on his forehead where it hit the side of the cart during the mailbox crash.
I fold my arms, watching him. “Tell me again why you were in front of my house.”
“I wasn’t in front of your house. I was lost, so I Googled directions and ended up hitting your mailbox.”
“You can’t get lost on an island. Just go around in circles until you find your way.”
He smiles up at me as if he knows his excuse is lame.
Do you know what else is lame? How stupid-hot Walker looks in his golf clothes: fitted bright-blue golf pants, white belt, white shirt with bright-blue, orange, and pink stripes, and matching white hat with his sponsor logo. It’s golf-cool, and no golfer looks cooler than Walker Collins. He brings his fashion A-game every time he’s on the course. It’s just another reason why the public loves him. And now his fashion A-game is in my kitchen.
He glances over his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to mess up your doorstep scene with Beau. Feel free to go outside and let the evening play out how it was going to.”
“How do you even know there would’ve been a doorstep scene?”
“Did I ruin your first kiss, Jane?” His eyes say he’s teasing, but the joke is not funny.
Is this what Walker thinks of me—a twenty-eight-year-old maiden who’s never been kissed or had a guy interested in her?
“My kissing résumé is none of your business.” Then why do I want nothing more than to defend myself? “But I’ll have you know, I’ve kissed lots of guys. Like tons and tons.” You think I would’ve stopped at tons and tons, but I don’t. “I’m actually an excellent kisser. Like one hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed.”
“Is that so?” The corner of his mouth lifts in his teasing way. “I’d love to see for myself.”
My eyes narrow into tiny little daggers. “Your head seems fine. I think you can leave now.” Actually, there’s blood soaking through his paper towel, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I can’t.” His grimace is fake. “I have to wait for the tow cart to come and get my golf cart.”
“Bad news.” Beau comes through the kitchen side door, saving the day with his impeccable timing. “I just got off the phone with Dax, and he can’t come pick up your golf cart until tomorrow. I’d take you home, but I got a call that Patrice Billigan’s boy fell off the trampoline and cut his leg. They want me to come see if it’s bad enough that he needs stitches.”
Walker whistles. “It’s a hoppin’ night in Sunset Harbor.”
“I can take Walker home,” I reluctantly say at the same time my stomach fills with butterflies.
“Are you sure? I feel bad that I’m leaving you hanging again. He can come with me to Patrice’s house, and then I can take him home after.”
“No, that’s silly. I can take him.” I smile back at Beau, feeling Walker’s overly amused smile beaming back and forth between the two of us.
“I’ll walk you out.” I grab Beau’s arm, dragging him to the door.
He stops and glances back at Walker. “Try to stay out of trouble, would you? I don’t want to have to lock you up.”
“I’ll do my best, Officer.” Walker uses two fingers to give a half-hearted salute, which is a surprisingly attractive gesture when done by him.
I tug Beau out the door and shut it behind us.
“Listen, after tonight, I think I finally get the hint that we’re better off as friends than anything else.”
It’s not that there was anything wrong with my date with Beau. It was a normal evening. I didn’t try to push any ridiculous trope or anything like that, but even that didn’t help with our chemistry. It’s just non-existent.
“I think we’re better off as friends too.” He nudges my shoulder like any close pal would. “It was a good effort, though.”
We both laugh, and for the first time all night, I breathe easier now that I’m not forcing something that’s not there.
“Well, I better get going.” Beau gives me a side hug, and then he’s gone.
I open the door, stepping back inside the kitchen.
Walker is waiting with a smile. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out between you two. You would’ve had some cute kids.”
“How do you know it didn’t work out?”
“Jane, come on.” He tilts his head. “There’s zero chemistry between the two of you.”
I bite back my smile, trying hard to feign irritation. “You’re the worst. Do you know that?”
“Surely there’s someone worse than me out there.” Despite the bloody paper towel and ruffled hair from wearing a hat all day, Walker manages to look absolutely handsome as he smiles back at me.
I steel my heart, switching my gaze to his forehead. “That’s quite the gash.”
He checks the paper towel. “Maybe I need stitches.”
“It’s not deep. Head wounds just bleed more.”
His expression turns skeptical. “Are you just saying that so I’ll bleed out and die?”
“It’s not a bad plan, but then I’d have to discard your body somewhere, and that’s more effort than I want to exert on a Wednesday night.”
“Saved by laziness. Lucky me.”
“Let me see if I have something to stop the bleeding.” I rummage through my medicine cupboard. Most of the stuff on the shelves has been there since I was five.
“Do you live here with your parents?”
“No, they moved to Nashville a few years ago.” I set my supplies from the cupboard in front of Walker. “This place is mine now.”
“You live in this big house all alone?”
“Thank you for pointing out just how single and lonely I am,” I joke as I take the paper towel from him and throw it in the garbage.
“Are you lonely?”
The usual teasing undertone is gone from his voice. I dare a glance at his eyes. There’s no amusement or hidden flirtation. For the first time since he arrived in Sunset Harbor, he’s being genuine with me, so I answer honestly.
“Maybe a little.” I shrug as I cut a piece of gauze to fit his wound. “I try to fill my life with people and activities, but there’s always that moment when you come home and everything is silent and empty.” I place the gauze over his wound, avoiding his stare. “Hold this.”
Walker’s fingers tangle with mine, and I do the stupid thing.
I meet his gaze.
Blue eyes and kindness—a crippling combo that makes my heart trip up.
“I know the feeling.”
There’s so much realness oozing from his stare that I can hardly breathe. I think I prefer the shameless flirt to this guy—I, at least, know how to handle him.
I drop my eyes, pulling my hand out from under his. “You know the feeling of loneliness and emptiness?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“I’ve seen your girlfriend on TV. The camera crews love to cut to her.” I place the medical tape over the gauze, making sure to avoid his touch.
“Ex-girlfriend. She dumped me right after the PGA Championship last month. She said she doesn’t date losers.”
“What does she mean by loser?” My brows bunch together. “Like men who don’t win golf tournaments, or like failures in life?”
His expression goes thoughtful. “Both, I think.”
“Well, she sounds like a real winner herself.” I bite back my smile. I shouldn’t find this funny, but I do.
“She wasn’t.” Now, it’s Walker’s turn to suppress a smirk.
“Then why did you date her for the last two years?”
His lips grow into a boyish grin. “How do you know how long I dated her?”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” I shake my head, packing up the medical supplies. “Capri told me.”
“What else did Capri tell you about me?” He leans forward, easily slipping back into his flirty side.
“That she’s worried about you.”
“Tell her to join the club.”
“Is that why you’re in Sunset Harbor? Because you got your heart broken?”
“I couldn’t care less about Lydia. Golf is the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”
It’s been that way ever since I’ve known Walker. Everyone and everything are second to the sport—a very good reason not to let my feelings get tangled up in him. I want to be more than someone’s second love.
“Golf is really why I’m here in Sunset Harbor,” he offers. “I need to clear my head, get back to my prime, and then I’ll be gone again, back on the pro tour.”
And another reason to guard my heart. Walker will leave this island as fast as he came.
“Sounds like you have it all figured out.” I turn away from him, taking the gauze and tape back to the cupboard.
“I hope so.” Behind me, the kitchen stool scrapes the wood floor as Walker tucks it back under the island counter.
“I can take you home now.”
By the time I spin around, Walker is standing in front of me. “Thanks for taking care of my wounds and bandaging me up.” His gaze is tinted with his signature flirtiness. “I’ve never had a nurse as cute as you.”
Oh, crap.
Another romance trope bites the dust.
Bandaging someone’s wound is as romantic as I’d hoped—unfortunately.
The moonlight does all sorts of good things for Jane. Not that she needs perfect lighting to look pretty. She’s one of those girls who’s naturally beautiful with her long brown hair, wide dark eyes, petite figure, and lit-up smile. I’ve always thought she was beautiful, but her standoffishness toward me in high school and her friendship with Capri made it difficult to ever get anything going with her.
“So, was it your loneliness that drove you to go out with Beau Palmer again when you two are clearly just friends?”
She gives me a sideways glance. “You know, people actively try to find the one person they’re meant to spend the rest of their life with. It’s called dating.”
“Oh, is that how it goes?”
Her gaze flips to the road as her lips press into a closed-mouth smile.
I casually rest my arm on the back of the seat, letting my fingers dangle. We’re sitting so close in the cart. I could brush her bare arm with the tips of my fingers if I wanted to.
“So you’re actively trying to find the one person you’re supposed to spend the rest of your life with?”
“Isn’t everyone?” She shoots me a quick glance. “I mean, everyone but you.”
Jane is right. I’ve never been the type to need or fantasize about a lasting, committed relationship or marriage. Up until now, golf has always fulfilled me.
“It all makes sense now.” I look at the passing houses out my side of the cart.
“What does?”
“Grandma Deedee saying that you’re on the prowl.”
“She said that?”
“Yeah, she even told me that I should go after you while I’m in town.”
Her entire body tenses, down to her grip on the steering wheel. “No.”
“Why not?” Her immediate refusal has me bummed.
“Because you’re Capri’s brother.”
“So? People can date their friend’s older brother.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?” There’s really not a good reason to press Jane on this. I’m only in town for a little while, but I press anyway. Maybe I’m just hoping for a distraction, a way to relax my mind a bit so I can do better in golf. Either way, teasing Jane is a game I love to play—unlike golf right now.
She shakes her head several times before answering. “You’re like a brother to me. It would be too weird.”
I’ve never thought of Jane Hayes as a little sister. Especially not the grown-up version I’ve seen this week.
“Not as weird as kissing Beau Palmer would’ve been,” I say.
Her side-eyed smirk is just about the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “Weirder.”
“Ouch.” I grab my chest in fake pain. “You really know how to stuff a man’s shot, don’t you?”
“Walker, we both know I’m one shot you’re never going to make.” She pulls into Stan’s driveway and jerks the cart to a stop, looking at me expectantly, as if she wants me out of her golf cart asap.
I can’t help but smile. “That’s really a shame.”
“You’ll recover.”
Will I?
There’s something about Jane’s hard-to-get approval that I’m dying to win over.
Her mouth twists into a sweet smile as she nods toward the back of the cart. “Don’t forget your clubs.”
I chuckle at her not-so-subtle hint that I should leave. “Thanks for the ride, Jane.” I swing the bag over one shoulder, walking backward. “Sorry about your mailbox.”
She rolls her eyes and shakes her head as the cart slowly reverses.
I laugh as she drives away, already wondering when I’ll see her again.
Just before myeyes drift off to sleep, a text lights up my room. I should wait and see who it is in the morning, but curiosity gets the best of me, and I grab my phone, sitting up in bed.
Capri
You ran over Jane’s mailbox!?!
I squint at the words on the screen, trying to make sense of it all. Capri and I never text. I think the last time we talked was right before the PGA Championship last month when she sent me the obligatory good luck text, and I responded with thanks.
Deep communication with my family has never been a strong area for me.
Walker
Gossip travels fast around this island.
Capri
It’s not gossip. Jane tells me everything. She also said that she keeps bumping into you.
I smile.
Jane’s been talking about me to Capri?
That feels like a win.
Walker
What else does she say about me?
Capri
Nope. I know you, and when it comes to women, you have the attention span of a toddler. You are not allowed to flirt with Jane or get her hopes up that you’re interested in her.
My smile grows even bigger.
Walker
Would her hopes be up if she thought I was interested in her?
Capri
No, Jane is way too good for you. She’d never be interested. But I still want you to stay away from her this summer. She has a lot on her plate, and I don’t want you getting mixed up in her summer plans.
My lips press together into a pucker.
Walker
What summer plans?
Capri
Nothing that concerns you. She just mentioned that you”re always around, and I wanted to make sure that you know Jane Hayes is off-limits when it comes to your love life. She’s not your summer distraction while you’re in Sunset Harbor, your rebound girl after Lydia, or how you console yourself while you’re down in the dumps. She deserves more than that.
Walker
Wow, why don’t you tell me how you really feel?
I add a wide-eye emoji at the end of my sarcastic text, hoping Capri gets the hint that she went a little too far with the insults.
A lot of what she said might be true, but she doesn’t need to say it out loud or in written word. Has she never heard the saying, If you can’t say something nice…?
Capri
Jane is my best friend.
Yeah, well, I’m your brother.
Capri
When it comes to men, Jane is looking for more than just a good time. And she’s looking for someone who lives in Sunset Harbor. I just wanted to make sure you know that.
There’s a push and pull of feelings happening inside me. I’m irritated at my sister for assuming I’d carelessly bulldoze over Jane’s heart if given the chance. But there’s also a surprising amount of disappointment orbiting my thoughts at the prospect of Jane being off-limits.
Despite the disappointment, I tell my sister what she wants to hear.
Walker
Relax. Nothing besides normal conversation is happening between me and Jane. You can put away your protective-best-friend card.
Capri
Okay, good. Besides that, are you doing alright?
I’m not about to deep-dive into the complexity of my feelings and how I feel like a failure every time I set foot on a golf course. How the pressure of being the best cripples me. How I’m lost without my golf identity. How I think, ‘Just do your best. That’s all you can do,’ is a statement made up by losers who can’t win anything. And how happiness is an unattainable feeling completely out of my reach.
That all seems a little heavy for a late-night text with my sister I barely have a relationship with.
Walker
Yep, doing great.
Capri
Good. Maybe I’ll see you in Sunset Harbor when I come to visit this weekend.
Walker
Yeah, let me know when you’re here.
We end the conversation like we’re supposed to, like siblings who actually want to see each other. But I’m not dumb. Capri doesn’t want to see or hang out with me—I haven’t earned that from her.
I’m just the jerk older brother who was rude to her growing up and never put any effort into fixing that.
It’s a hard label to ditch.