25. Selena
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Selena
The nearly full moon hung heavy over the ocean as Chase sped us down the coast. The waves and the Jet Ski’s engine made it too loud to talk, so I just held on tight, enjoying the warmth of him against the chill of the sea spray crashing around us.
Within a few minutes, I heard it.
Then we rounded an outcropping and I saw it.
The party was in full swing—music pulsing, bodies swaying, the air electric with magic that had nothing to do with spells and everything to do with being young, alive, and a little bit drunk.
Huge neon signs lit the shore, casting their saturated rainbow hues across the dark waves that seemed to dance right along with the deep bass beat.
“Hold on,” Chase shouted over his shoulder, and I clamped my arms around him. He sped up, and we jolted as the bottom of the Jet Ski hit the sand, our momentum carrying us up out of the surf.
He killed the engine, then grabbed my hand again, gently leading me off the seat.
“M’lady.” He bowed low and tipped an imaginary fedora.
“Is this you being a gentleman?” Sand flooded my sandals, and I just kicked them off rather than fight them.
“Obviously.”
Tanner and Diego pulled in behind us, Tanner launching himself off before they’d even stopped moving and running toward the crowd.
Chase didn’t let go of my hand. He pulled me forward, weaving between coolers, dropped towels, and a circle of people passing a bottle. The bass grew louder the closer we got until I could feel it in my sternum, in my teeth, in the soles of my feet.
“Dance with me?” he asked, which surprised me. No cocky demands, just a sheepish grin as he walked backward into the mass of bodies, both my hands in his now.
I leaned forward so he could hear me.
“Depends. Am I dancing with El Tiburón or Chase Perez?”
Was that a blush, or the neon lights?
“Maybe we could just be you and me tonight?”
Me and him. Not a witch with weak magic or the shark shifter she’d used. Not a pro athlete and one who had washed out. Just two people in the dark with good music and a warm hand wrapped around mine.
I let him draw me in.
The crowd swallowed us. Lights were everywhere—pink, then green, then a blue that turned everyone’s skin supernatural colors—and the song was all low end and a girl’s voice looping over the top.
Chase settled his hands on my hips. I rested mine on his shoulders, and we moved.
It came easy, like we’d done this a million times.
Like he knew me better than anyone else ever had.
Then the beat dropped and sped up. His hands tightened, and he spun me.
All thinking fell away.
I let the music take me.
And surrendered to him and the dance.
Sand kicked up around my ankles and sweat pooled at my hairline.
Somebody’s drink sloshed cold across our arms, and neither of us cared, just kept moving.
He tugged me closer, our bodies pressed together in the throng.
His thigh slotted between mine, but his hands stayed chastely on my waist. To my right, Tanner bounced toward us, two drinks in hand.
Chase and I each took one, the red cup cold against my palm.
Before I could thank him, Tanner bounced away again, hands over his head.
I laughed and took a swig of…something incredibly strong. I gagged, and Chase laughed, took his own swig, then made an identical face.
I laughed, and it felt good. Easy.
I danced in his arms, for once forgetting everything that had been weighing on me and just enjoying the music and the feeling of him surrounding me.
Chase pulled me in close, his mouth at my ear so I could hear him over the bass.
“There she is,” he murmured.
My heart skipped. I tipped my head back to look at him, the lights sliding over his face, and for one second I forgot every reason this was a bad idea.
Before my brain could catch up, I leaned in and kissed him.
His eyes went wide for just a moment before he raised a hand to the back of my head, tilting my face up and kissing me back like we were just two young people dancing on a beach. No complications, no excuses, just his lips on mine and the taste of saltwater on my tongue.
Then the music lowered, and we broke apart.
The crowd groaned, then perked up as a voice came over the speakers, way too pleased with itself.
“Party people! We’ve got a special guest in the crowd tonight—”
Chase went still against me.
“—word is El Tiburón himself is out there. Get up here, man! Show these people how the shark spins a track!”
A spotlight swung across the sand, hunting.
Chase looked down at me, and for the first time all night the easy grin was gone, replaced with…embarrassment.
“Okay.” He held up his hands. “In my defense, I didn’t tell them I was coming.”
“Better get up there, El Tiburón. Your people are waiting.”
He frowned. “I don’t have to. I’d rather stay—”
But I gently pushed away from him.
“Have to give the people what they want, right? And maybe I want to see you up there. Go on. I’ll be here.”
He glanced between me and the stage, then leaned down and kissed my cheek.
“I’ll be right back.”
I watched him cut through the crowd, getting farther and farther away.
I took another gulp of my drink when someone knocked into me and splashed it all down my front. I sighed and headed toward the edge of the crowd.
Outside the main, writhing mass, my toes dug into the warm sand as I watched Chase onstage.
As soon as he climbed up, the crowd roared, and El Tiburón emerged.
He dapped up the DJ, who handed him his headphones.
He slipped them over one ear and started working the turntables like this was his second job.
He was in his element here—the center of attention, the wide smile with all eyes on him.
The crowd moved to his beat, his energy, his effortless command of the moment.
Neon lights painted his face in shades of blue and purple, glinting off his lip ring and highlighting the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the curve of his smile.
It all came crashing back in that instant.
This was his life.
He was a fucking celebrity, someone people knew and cheered for. Someone with sponsors and waves waiting for him. Crescent Cove was just a stop on his tour, and I was likely just another notch in his belt.
I knew that.
My lungs pulled tight at the thought, but I realized that wasn’t even the worst of it.
What was worse was that I really did hate him, because he was a glimpse into a life I’d never had.
A life I’d walked away from before I even knew what I was giving up.
The scholarships, the opportunities, the chance to be someone, somewhere else.
I’d chosen Crescent Cove. I’d chosen family, duty…
familiarity and safety. And most days, I could say I was at peace with that choice.
But sometimes, on nights like this, watching Chase shine in a world I’d never been a part of…the lie didn’t come so easily.
He looked up from the decks and caught my eye. Grinned that heart-stopping grin of his. Held up one finger and mouthed one more song? and I nodded, because what else was I going to do? Leave? Cry about my own sad life choices?
He grabbed the microphone, and because he was Chase Perez and subtlety was not in his vocabulary, he said, “This one goes out to the most beautiful girl on the beach. You know who you are, baby.”
He never once took his eyes off me.
So I lied to myself again and told myself it meant nothing.
Then I ran toward the waves.
The ocean lapped at my toes, frigid despite the warm summer air. The moon hung low over the water now, and I felt the pull of it in my blood, stronger than it had been in years.
The magic that had kept me in Crescent Cove. The magic that had made me stay, even when every logical part of me screamed to go, to run, to chase the horizon. To stop chasing my mother’s approval, to just let it go and do what I really wanted.
Coward.
I’d been a coward and stayed.
But I’d also just been a little girl who wanted her mom to say she was proud of her.
Tears streamed down my face, and I tried to wipe them away as his song kept playing.
Then I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.
“Hey,” Chase said. “You okay?”
I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. If I did, he’d see everything I was trying so hard to hide. The longing, the regret, the what-ifs and could-have-beens.
“I’m fine.” My voice betrayed me, cracking on the last word.
“You don’t look fine. Damn it, I knew I shouldn’t have gone up there. I’m sorry—”
“Maybe everything isn’t about you, Chase Perez.”
Even if it was, at least a little bit.
“Selena, I don’t—”
I sighed, weary with years of regret. I tipped my face toward the moon, blinking hard against the sting of tears.
“I sometimes wish…I didn’t have magic at all.”
He was quiet for a moment. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of my confession.
Then, carefully, “What do you mean?”
The words came tumbling out, a dam breaking, a flood I couldn’t stop.
“I have just enough to feel it. To know what’s out of my reach.
To feel the pull of this place, even when I try to leave.
” I swallowed hard, my throat tight and aching.
“I’m a disappointment to my family, the strongest witches on the coast. Might as well be completely non-magical as far as they’re concerned.
If I hadn’t been magical at all…maybe I wouldn’t have been compelled to stay. ”
He moved closer. Not touching, but close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the hum of his energy. That stupid magic I hated called out to him, awakened by his nearness.
“I don’t know how anyone could see you as a disappointment.”
There was a fierceness in his voice that made my heart lurch. I laughed, and it tasted bitter on my tongue.
“Tell that to my mother.”
“I will. Gladly. But Selena…you’re so much more than your magic.
I mean, sure, it was hot when you got so pissed off that you nearly swallowed poor Gary into the sand, but…
” His grin softened. “That’s not the best part of you.
The best part is how you keep fighting, whether it’s for those damn turtles or your tournament or this town.
I saw that when you absolutely thrashed me at volleyball, because you were fucking magic. ”
I shook my head.
“My magic…without you, it’s practically nothing. I know I’m just playing on borrowed time right now.” I tried to smile at him.
“No, I meant the volleyball. That’s the magic, Selena.”
He saw me.
He had looked up and seen me.
My heart was beating out of my chest as he gently ran a thumb over my cheek, brushing my windblown hair out of my face.
“You had scholarships, didn’t you? D1 probably. But you stayed, right?”
“How could you know that?”
“Because I know that world, Selena. And I meant it when I said you were incredible. It’s why I can’t ever get you out of my head.”
“But I didn’t take it.” Stupid tears, stupid heart, stupid magic that lit up everywhere his skin touched mine. “I stayed in this town, with my small life. I failed before I’d even started.”
A smile I had never seen before broke through, and it was so incredibly sad.
“Staying isn’t failing. Choosing a place, a people, your family…” He trailed off. “I know how complex families can be.”
I looked at him then. Really looked at him. Searched his face for the punchline, the smirk, the thing that would tell me he was just saying what I wanted to hear.
I didn’t find it.
All I found was sincerity, burning bright and true in his dark eyes.
“You have a big family too?” I asked, realizing I had no idea.
His mouth twitched.
“I have fifty-four siblings.”
I choked.
“What?”
“Shark shifter, remember? Although I don’t know all of them very well. To be honest, I kinda don’t talk to my family, not since my sister got sick.”
Now it was his turn to look away—and my turn to reach out. I grabbed his hand, linking our fingers together.
“What happened?”
He grimaced, but he didn’t hesitate like I had.
“Shark shifters—well, shifters in general—can be pretty traditional. My family especially ‘keeps to the old ways.’ Hell, my parents spend more time in the water than on land, barely use technology, all of that. When my sister got sick…they said it was shifter business. That we take care of our own. But no one had ever seen a disease like this before, not in sharks anyway. But it had been seen in humans, and…well, she needed human treatment.”
He paused.
“I made sure she got that treatment, and they fought it. I haven’t talked to any of them since.”
Sometimes I hated this town, the unending sameness of it. But the thought of being cut off completely from Lupe, my family, my abuela, even my mom…I couldn’t even imagine that.
“But your sister, she’s better now?”
He sighed. “Getting there. It’s all experimental treatment at a special clinic down in Miami. But we’re seeing progress.”
“She’s lucky to have you.”
He looked at me like I was dumb.
“I don’t think that’s true for anyone.”
The pain in his eyes nearly broke my heart in two.
“I’m lucky to have you. And so are the turtles.” I gave him a grin, hoping he’d take it.
He did, chuckling.
“Always thinking about those damn turtles, Torres. A guy might get jealous.”
He always did this to me. Had this uncanny ability to take the heaviest moments and make them light again, to absorb all my pain so I didn’t have to hold it alone.
“Don’t worry. You are much prettier than they are.”
We stood there, hand in hand, the ocean at our feet and the moon above us, the weight of our choices hanging in the air between us. It was a moment suspended in time, fragile and precious and more real than anything I’d felt in a very long time.