Chapter 6
Kelly
I pace the length of the terrace as the sun finally dips behind the horizon, darkness settling around us, trying to ignore Jake’s silent gaze that follows me. Each step is filled with my racing thoughts.
Nine steps one way, nine steps back, repeating the rhythm in my head. A lifeline. Nine steps, turn. Nine steps, stop. I count them under my breath, hoping the numbers will drown out the storm inside me.
“Kelly,” he says, and I swear there’s a hint of concern in his voice, but I’m not about to fall for that—not again.
“Seriously, stop saying my name like that. Like you’re worried or something. We both know you don’t give a damn when it comes to me.”
“That’s not true.”
His tone is neutral, and it infuriates me even more. I’m about to shoot back, but then I catch myself—bickering with Jake Tanner isn’t going to unlock the damn door. I force another deep breath, trying to will away the emotions that are creeping up on me. It’s just cold air and bad memories, nothing I haven’t handled before.
“Look,” I say, my voice steadier now, “let’s just put our heads together and figure a way out of here. No need for small talk or concern or whatever this is.” I gesture vaguely between us, still not meeting his eyes.
“Agreed,” he says simply.
There’s a moment where neither of us moves or speaks, where the only sound is the muffled beat of music seeping through the walls and the rhythmic pull of the ocean. And then, almost reluctantly, I finally look right at him. There’s something unnerving about how calm he appears, leaning against the bannister with his hands casually tucked in his pockets as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Got any ideas on how we get off this balcony?”
“Working on it,” he echoes my earlier words, and it makes me want to scream or laugh—maybe both.
“Perfect,” I say under my breath. “Just perfect.” Silence settles over us once more, and the cold bites at my skin. “Can you at least pretend to look for a solution?” My voice comes out sharper than I intended. But I don’t apologize. Apologies are for people who have something left to salvage.
His jaw ticks at my words. “I’ve already sent another message to Antonio. He’s with Patrick right now, but I’m sure he’ll be up here soon.”
“Can’t you call him again?”
“Tried that while you were wearing holes in the balcony floor with your pacing. He didn’t pick up.”
“Fine,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I guess we just need to wait.”
I cross my arms against the cold and lean against the door as far away from him as possible, hugging myself tighter, trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions threatening to burst out. I do not want him to see the effect he’s had on me. No way.
“Kelly,” he says, and I swear his voice has the power to make the air both hotter and colder at the same time.
“Jake,” I reply, because that’s how we do it now—tit for tat, name for name, hurt for hurt.
He pushes off from his spot and moves toward me, slow but sure, as though he’s got all the answers, just like how he thought he’d fix all the problems in our lives by ending things without even talking to me about it. The band plays on below us.
The deep brown of his eyes is soft as he looks at me. “You’re freezing.”
“Am I?” It comes out as a challenge, even though the teeth-chattering might be giving me away. “Hadn’t noticed.”
But there he goes, shrugging out of his jacket, the movement fluid and familiar. I’m watching a scene from a life I used to know, one where Jake Tanner taking off his jacket meant something entirely different.
“Here,” he says, holding it out, a peace offering.
My skin might be begging for warmth, and I might have seriously considered taking it for a moment, but that would be a victory. For him. “Keep it. I’m fine.”
His eyes hold mine, dark and expansive, and for a moment, I’m seventeen again, believing in things like forever and the beautiful love I shared with him. Then I blink, and the illusion is gone.
“Suit yourself,” he says. “It’s here if you want it.” He walks back to his spot on the other side of the balcony and lays the jacket across the bannister, where it sits, taunting me. It’s not just the gesture—the suggestion that somehow I need him to do anything for me—it’s the thought of slipping into something that’s his . The idea of his scent and body heat clinging to me makes my skin crawl, a weird sensory and emotional overload I can’t explain.
I fold my arms tighter around myself. Some part of me would rather freeze than admit I still feel the heat of him—even now. His eyes land on me from across the width of the balcony, steady, unwavering. He’s still the picture of calm.
And it pisses me off.
Because here I am, heart racing, skin itching. I might just explode with the sheer intensity of everything that’s rushing through me at the sight of him.
“Must be nice.” I angle my body away from him.
“Must be nice, what?”
“Being you. Nothing gets to you, does it? Just Jake Tanner, solid as a rock.”
“Plenty gets to me,” he says, and there’s a hint of something beneath the surface now, a flicker of something raw that makes me want to look at him. But I don’t.
“Could’ve fooled me.” I reply, swallowing the words I want to say: you walked away from me without a second glance when Jenny told you she was pregnant.
“Kelly—”
“Drop it. I shouldn’t have said anything.” I cut him off before he can say whatever it is that might make this suffocating situation even worse.
There’s nothing left to say, anyway. Not after all these years, not after everything that’s happened. So I stand there, staring at the dark ocean, back to the door that won’t open, feeling every inch of the distance between us and wondering how it is that someone can feel so alone when they’re not the only one there.
“Kelly, please. Just look at me. I didn’t even know you were in town. Seeing you after all this time has completely blindsided me. This is hard for me, too.”
I finally look up and catch myself staring at the line of his jaw, all shadowed and sharp in the dim light. My eyes have their own agenda, drinking him in despite the bitter aftertaste.
The worst part? He knows he looks good, damn him. The way he holds himself—shoulders back, an air of confidence that makes the space between us shrink—it’s all a reminder of what we used to be. Of what he threw away.
I would have stood by him. I would have done anything for him. We were young, sure. But sometimes you just know . Or at least, you think you know—until the other person proves you wrong.
He’s still looking at me, something hot coiling in the air between us despite the temperature. I hate that the attraction is still there between us. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. I was supposed to see him from across the room, shrug, and then continue on with my new life in Harbor’s Edge, doing what I came here to do.
I look away again. But the heat follows me, wraps around me. And those memories, they’re traitors, every single one of them, painting pictures in my head of times when he was mine and mine alone. When his world started and ended with the girl he loved. Me .
“You look really beautiful tonight,” he says, voice soft.
I stiffen and pretend I didn’t hear him. Because the Jake Tanner standing in front of me now might have the same dark eyes, the same strong jaw and soft mouth, but everything else is a lie.
“Kelly?” Nora’s voice reaches me. I turn, and there she is, the door swinging open, her blue eyes wide as they tick between Jake and me. “You took so long, I came up here to make sure you were okay.”
“Hey,” I choke out, trying to sound nonchalant. “We got locked out.”
“Seriously?” She edges past me and gives Jake an awkward nod. “Hi, Jake.”
“Hey, Nora.” His voice doesn’t waver. Doesn’t he ever get flustered?
Nora’s arm links through mine, and I lean into her, grateful for the escape. As we pass the bed, I snatch up Emmy’s clutch. “Let’s not keep the bride waiting.”
The walk down the stairs is longer than I remember, and I tap the bannister twice with my fingertips—then again at the ninth step as I pause with both feet. Nora glances at me but doesn’t say anything. We get to the bottom, where I tap twice more. It’s a silly habit, but it keeps the rising tide of emotion at bay. It’s just a coincidence that I always tap twice—it’s not as though anything bad would happen if I stopped. Even so, I do it.
“Are you okay? How the heck did that happen?” She gives my arm a reassuring squeeze.
I manage a smile as I pass her the clutch. “The wind slammed the door shut. And with the band playing downstairs, no one could hear us. I banged on the door. Trust me.”
Nora raises an eyebrow, her grip on my arm squeezing slightly as we make our way to the room where Emmy is waiting. “Locked out on the balcony? With Jake? Talk about bad luck. I’m sorry I didn’t come to rescue you sooner.”
I force a laugh, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. “Yeah, just my luck, right? But you know, I ripped the band-aid off, it’s done now. And it’s not as though I’m going to have to see him again, other than bumping into him around town every so often. I’m almost glad it happened because now it’s done.”
I glance over my shoulder, hoping Jake isn’t following too closely, but there he is—walking down the stairs with that same casual confidence. His suit fits him perfectly, and the way he moves only adds to the infuriating pull I’m trying to ignore.
I tear my gaze away, heart still racing. “It was just awkward. I was trying to get someone’s attention, and he was there, being all calm and... Jake-like.” I bite back the part where I thought about how good he looked, how that stupid old ache in my chest flared up again, threatening to unravel everything I’ve worked so hard to bury, the heat that pulsed between us.
“I’m so sorry. Shit.” Nora makes a face. “I’ve been the worst at keeping promises tonight. But it won’t happen again. After the ceremony, I’m going to be right by your side every minute.”
She gives my arm a last squeeze and tells me she’ll see me after the ceremony, and I watch her head back to Emmy, before pivoting and walking for the main hall, stealing one more glance at him. The past may be behind me, but tonight, it’s dangerously close to catching up.
“Champagne?” A server offers me a tray filled with flutes of golden liquid.
“Thanks.” I take one, my fingers wrapping around the stem with a death grip. I don’t even like champagne that much, but right now, I need all the help I can get, and I toss the glass back. It goes down easily.
“Another?” asks the server. He’s young and looks bored, and there’s no judgment in his voice.
“Keep ‘em coming,” I say with a half-smile that’s more a grimace. I take the second glass and find my seat just as the music swells, signaling the start of the ceremony.
Ugh. Did that really just happen? I’m supposed to be here for Nora, not reliving every mistake I’ve made since high school.
But avoidance has almost become second nature to me—avoidance and pretending everything is fine—so I may as well embrace it. I’ll sit, I’ll smile, and I’ll toast to the happy couple.
And most importantly, I’ll steer clear of Jake Tanner.