Chapter 23 Selene
TWENTY-THREE
SELENE
The air smelled like cut grass and concession stand popcorn, sweet and faintly greasy, carried on a breeze that tugged at the loose strands of my hair.
It had been three days since the stomach bug had swept through our side of the duplex like a wrecking ball—three long days of ginger ale, saltines, and an attempt to regain some semblance of normalcy.
Winnie was back at school, chipper and loud as ever, while I was just starting to feel human again.
I tugged my cardigan tighter around my shoulders, not because it was too cold—Star Harbor’s October sun was still warm enough—but because it felt like something to hold on to.
Winnie’s laughter pealed across the playground toward the softball field, high and bright, as she and two classmates took turns chasing each other. She was flushed, her unruly waves bouncing as she darted away from the little boy trying to tag her, her shoes kicking up small clouds of dust.
I couldn’t help smiling.
Beside me, Elodie and Kit occupied the other two folding chairs, their drinks balanced precariously on the metal armrests.
Elodie had a notebook open on her lap, a pencil twirling between her fingers as she sketched something abstract and looping.
Kit sat cross-legged, scrolling on her phone, the sunlight catching in her auburn hair.
“I’m so freaking excited.” Her toes bounced. “This whole Lady of the Dunes theory is starting to unravel,” Elodie said finally, not looking up from her page. “I mean, if that diary entry is real, then I was right. She wasn’t waiting for someone—she was running.”
Kit snorted. “Or maybe she was just bored out of her mind and decided to take a walk.”
Elodie shot her a look full of sisterly exasperation. “You’re a romantic cynic. The worst kind.”
“I’m a realist,” Kit said. “Which you’d know if you weren’t trying to make this about tragic love and ghostly petticoats.”
I sipped my lemonade, letting their bickering wash over me like comforting background noise.
“Speaking of tragic,” Elodie said, tilting her head toward me. “I still can’t believe Austin stayed and played nurse for two days straight. Cal told me he even called in sick to work.”
“He didn’t have to,” I said quickly, my fingers knotting in my cardigan. “But he . . . he just did.”
It had rattled me more than I wanted to admit.
For years I’d been the one holding everything together—late-night fevers, last-minute emergencies, the thousand tiny inconveniences that came with single motherhood.
No one had ever stepped in, unasked, the way Austin had.
No one had thought to. I didn’t know what to do with that kind of care, with the quiet competence of a man who folded towels and rocked my daughter like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Was Austin there when Brian dropped her off?” Kit asked with a bounce of her eyebrows.
I groaned, hoping to forget. I was still reeling from the fact that Brian had dropped Winnie off mere moments after Austin and I had just had sex. I was fully convinced the flush in my cheeks and rat’s nest hair was a neon billboard that flashed Just Been Fucked.
“Yes,” I grumbled. “There was a moment where the two just stared at each other like a pair of gorillas. I thought one of them was going to start beating his chest and grunting.”
Elodie snorted. “Let him be jealous. He’s the idiot who lost you anyway.”
My sister had never liked Brian. While I was often reminded of the many, many reasons why we had divorced, he wasn’t a horrible human being.
We had been friends in college who’d fallen into a companionable rhythm.
That rhythm had eventually turned into a relationship, and when he’d asked me to be his wife, I’d happily settled for a slow, comfortable life.
It had taken me a long time to realize how easy it was to mistake comfort for complacency.
I would spend hours restoring and romanticizing old love stories while daydreaming of my own.
I was three months postpartum when Brian calmly came to me one evening and told me he wasn’t sure he’d ever been in love with me, and the only thing I could do was nod.
Because what else was there? I knew the truth—I was more heartbroken over the impact our divorce would have on Winnie than over anything else. I had been in love with the idea of a husband and never with the husband himself.
Pathetic.
My eyes strayed—again—to the outfield where Austin stood with his glove tucked lazily under one arm. He was laughing at something Hayes said, his smile easy and unguarded in a way that still did strange things to my stomach.
The early-evening sun cut across his broad shoulders, catching on the fine layer of sweat on his neck, and I hated how my pulse tripped.
“You’re quiet over there.” Elodie’s voice drew me back. “Hey, I’m sorry if I was ragging on Brian.”
I blinked and turned, schooling my expression. “It’s fine. I’m just lost in my own thoughts.”
Her brow arched, and I knew that look. Elodie had been reading me like a book since we were old enough to keep secrets. “No. You’re doing that thing.”
My brows pinched down. “What thing?”
Kit grinned. “The thing where you’re pretending to care about the conversation while your eyes are undressing someone.”
My mouth fell open as my cheeks flamed. “I am not—”
“You so are.” Kit leaned forward, conspiratorial. “And honestly, same. I mean, have you seen Austin in a jersey? It’s like the fabric doesn’t know whether to cling or beg for mercy.”
“Elodie,” I said, desperate for backup.
But Elodie just shook her head and gave me a knowing smile. “You do watch him like someone who’s trying very hard not to be caught watching.”
Heat flared in my cheeks. I took another sip of lemonade to buy time, though it didn’t cool me nearly enough.
“It’s nothing,” I said finally, waving a hand. “We’re just . . . spending a little time together. Having fun.”
Kit raised a brow. “Is that what we’re calling mind-blowing sex these days? I could use some fun.”
“Elodie,” I hissed, praying no one around us heard.
“Don’t look at me.” She smirked. “I didn’t say it. Kit did.”
“I only implied it.” Kit grinned. “But you just confirmed it.”
My hands flew up. “God, you two are insufferable.”
Kit nudged my knee with hers. “So when exactly did ‘just spending time’ become ‘naked Olympic-level cardio’?”
My jaw dropped. “Kit!”
“What?” She sipped her drink like she wasn’t openly broadcasting my business to anyone within earshot. “You’re glowing. It’s a dead giveaway.”
“I am not glowing,” I muttered, sinking lower into my chair.
“Sel,” Elodie said. “You kind of are.”
I stuck my tongue out at her. The worst of it was . . . I could feel it too. Lately it was as if some part of me I thought had been locked away for good was stirring. Waking up. Austin had a way of peeling back layers I didn’t even realize I’d built, and that should have scared me more than it did.
“Don’t read into it,” I said finally. “It’s not serious. It’s just a little fun.”
Elodie’s lips curved. “Are you sure about that?”
“Yes.” I drained the last of my lemonade. “Absolutely.”
But my eyes betrayed me, darting back to the field where Austin was crouched to scoop up a stray ball. His shirt rode up just enough to flash a line of skin above his waistband, and I actively ignored the way my stomach swooped.
Kit followed my gaze and smirked. “Okay, sure. Totally casual.”
I let out a groan and buried my face in my hands, wishing I could melt straight into the folding chair. “You two really are the worst.”
Kit’s cackling laugh was quiet but smug as she clapped her hands together.
Elodie reached over and patted my knee. “We’re just saying, it’s a good thing. You deserve someone taking care of you for a change. Even if it’s only for a little while.”
I didn’t have a response to that—at least not one I trusted myself to say out loud.
Across the field, the game wrapped up with shouts and easy laughter.
Austin jogged toward the dugout, glove tucked under his shoulder.
His grin was wide and unguarded as he high-fived one of his teammates, and for a second I hated how easily he fit here.
Like this town—like my life—had always made room for him.
Elodie followed my gaze and let out a knowing sigh. “Well, Cal and I are skipping the Lantern tonight. I promised him a quiet night after wrangling farm chores all week. But if you want a little time-out, I could take Winnie for ice cream. Maybe let her run wild at the farm for a bit.”
“She’d love that,” I admitted, grateful for the offer even as hesitation pricked the back of my neck. “You’d really be okay?”
Elodie waved me off. “Please. She’s an angel and loves hanging out with Levi.”
“It’s a school night,” I said automatically. “Sorry.”
Elodie’s face crinkled. “You think I can’t wrangle her? Compared to a teenager, Winnie’s a breeze.” Elodie’s grin was pure mischief. “Come on . . . go have fun. Lord knows you’ve earned it.”
“Actually,” Kit chimed in, locking her phone screen with a smug little click, “I’ll be at the Lantern later too. You can text me when you get there—we’ll grab a drink before you and Austin inevitably start eye-fucking in public.”
“Jesus, Kit,” I hissed, heat rising in my cheeks.
“What?” she said innocently, sipping from her straw. “I’m just being realistic here.” She leaned in, conspiratorial. “You can have a drink, dance a little . . .” Her eyes glinted. “Maybe even let your hot not-boyfriend show you off properly.”
My cheeks warmed. “He’s not—”
“Uh-huh.” Kit cut me off with a wink and sauntered toward the parking lot. “You should do it,” she singsonged.
Elodie squeezed my arm as she gathered her sketchbook and thermos. “You deserve a little fun, Sel. It’s okay to let yourself have it.”
I watched her and Winnie head off together, a strange ache blooming in my chest.
When had fun become such a foreign concept?
Indecision gnawed at me.