Chapter 5 #4
Then the moonlight on the water got to me.
I changed into a black one-piece, left Mandy’s ring in the little dish by my bed so I wouldn’t lose it, but kept the diamond studs in my ears. I liked the way they felt. Tiny. Cold. Real.
The beach below the villa was private, guarded at both ends, and quiet enough that the rest of Cabo felt like another country.
The fire crackled farther down near the rocks, where Edge and Tarak sat with cigars and low voices.
Regan and Amber were with them, wrapped in blankets, their laughter drifting now and then through the dark.
I slipped into the ocean alone.
The water was cool after the heat of the day. It wrapped around me gently, lifting my hair, sliding over my skin like it knew every bruise and had decided not to press too hard. I swam until the voices faded behind me and the moon blurred on the surface around my arms.
For a while, I floated.
Eighteen.
Alive.
Not free exactly.
But closer.
When I finally came out, I was shivering. My hair streamed down my back. The diamonds in my ears caught the moonlight when I turned my head, flashing tiny sparks against the dark.
“I’m going up to bed,” I called toward the fire.
Regan looked over. “Shower first. And don’t walk around barefoot near the rocks.”
“Yes, Mom.”
She smiled.
It came out before I had time to realize what I’d said.
For a second, both of us felt it.
Then she lifted her glass. “Good answer.”
I turned before I could cry again.
The outdoor shower sat up the beach path, tucked behind palms and flowering vines near the side of the villa. The path was lit by low lanterns, soft gold circles spilling over stone. I walked slowly, arms wrapped around myself, salt drying on my skin, my wet hair dripping down my spine.
Halfway up, a hand closed gently around my wrist.
I gasped as I was pulled behind a palm tree.
A warm hand covered my mouth before I could scream.
“Easy,” a familiar voice murmured near my ear. “Didn’t think I’d forget your birthday, did you, Beautiful?”
My whole body went still.
Then weak.
Dylan.
He lowered his hand immediately.
I turned, heart slamming against my ribs.
He stood in the shadows between the palms, wet-haired and barefoot, wearing dark swim trunks and an open shirt that clung damply to his shoulders.
His face was clean-shaven still, moonlight catching along his jaw.
His hair dripped like he had been in the ocean too, and his eyes—those stupid, dangerous eyes—moved over my face like he had been trying not to look at me for days and had finally lost the fight.
“You scared me,” I whispered.
His mouth tilted faintly. “Liar.”
“Okay, you startled me.”
“Better.”
I should have stepped back.
I didn’t.
The night wrapped around us, warm and secret. Behind us, the fire crackled in the distance. Ahead, the villa glowed through leaves and shadow. Close enough that anyone could come looking.
Far enough that, for one impossible second, it felt like the world had narrowed to him.
“I was told to stay away,” he said.
My chest tightened. “By who?”
His look said I knew exactly who.
Regan.
Maybe Edge.
Maybe his own conscience, which was honestly becoming my least favorite person.
“I don’t want you to stay away,” I whispered.
The words came out softer than I meant them to.
Dylan’s face changed.
I lifted my hand before I could think better of it and trailed my fingertips up his cheek. His skin was warm from the night, smooth where the beard used to be. Water clung to his jaw.
He closed his eyes for half a second.
Like my touch hurt.
Like he wanted it to.
“Destiny,” he said.
“I’m eighteen now.”
His eyes opened.
There it was.
The thing neither one of us had been saying all day.
He stepped back half an inch.
Not far.
Enough.
“I know.”
“You didn’t come today.”
“No.”
“That hurt.”
His jaw flexed. “I know.”
“Then why?”
“Because I’m trying not to be selfish.”
I laughed once, quiet and sad. “How noble.”
“It’s not noble. It’s killing me.”
That shut me up.
The ocean moved behind him, black and silver under the moon.
Dylan looked down at my earrings. His gaze caught on the diamonds, then moved to my face. “You look beautiful.”
My throat tightened.
“They were my mother’s. Sort of. Tarak had them made from diamonds in a ring he gave her.”
His eyes softened. “That’s good.”
“Edge gave me her turquoise ring too. It’s upstairs. I didn’t want to lose it in the ocean.”
His mouth curved faintly. “Smart.”
“I felt like an adult when I put them on.”
“You are one.”
“Then stop looking at me like I’m something you’re not allowed to want.”
The words landed hard between us.
Dylan looked away.
For a second, I thought he might leave.
Then he reached into the pocket of his damp shirt and pulled out a small box.
My breath caught.
“What is that?”
“Birthday present.”
“You got me something?”
“Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I thought you were avoiding me.”
“I was.” He held the box out. “Didn’t mean I forgot.”
I took it carefully.
The box was simple. Not professionally wrapped. Just dark paper folded neatly, tied with a thin silver ribbon. No glitter. No fuss. No birthday nonsense.
It felt like him.
I slipped the ribbon loose.
Inside was a silver cuff bracelet.
For a second, I couldn’t speak.
It was beautiful. Not delicate exactly, but feminine in a strong way. Silver curved in a clean band, with mother-of-pearl inlay set along the center. In the moonlight, the shell shifted soft white, blue, and pink, like ocean light trapped under glass.
“Oh,” I whispered.
Dylan rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking less like an outlaw and more like a boy who had wandered into feelings without a weapon. “It reminded me of you.”
I looked up.
“That night,” he said quietly. “At the grave. The way the moon caught your face. The way your eyes looked when you were crying but still standing there like nothing in the world had the right to knock you down.”
My lips parted.
“I don’t know,” he muttered. “It’s stupid.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“No,” I said again, stronger. “It’s beautiful.”
His shoulders eased by the smallest amount.
“It’s perfect,” I whispered.
I lifted it from the box, but my hands shook a little. Dylan noticed. He always noticed.
“May I?”
I nodded.
He took the cuff and slid it onto my wrist.
His fingers brushed my skin.
The touch was careful.
Reverent.
My diamond earrings glinted in the corner of my vision when I looked down at the bracelet. Mother-of-pearl on my wrist. Diamonds in my ears. Salt on my skin. Moonlight everywhere.
For one wild second, I felt made of gifts and ghosts.
Dylan’s thumb rested near the inside of my wrist, right over my pulse.
“I kept thinking,” he said, voice low, “what do you give the girl who has everything?”
A sad little laugh slipped out of me.
“I hardly have everything.”
His eyes came back to mine.
“In fact, you know better than anyone,” I whispered. “I just trashed my whole life.”
“No.”
“Dylan.”
“No,” he said again, firmer. “You lost a life that was already hurting you. That doesn’t mean you trashed the whole thing.”
My throat tightened.
“You’ve got a fresh one ahead,” he said. “Blank pages. Ocean. School. People who won’t know the worst thing that ever happened to you before they know your coffee order.”
I stared at him.
Regan had told him.
Something in his face told me not to ask yet.
“I’m going home in a few days,” he said.
The words hit like cold water.
“Back to San Diego.”
I gripped the box tighter.
“It’s only been what?” he said, laughing under his breath like he hated himself. “Two weeks? Less? Long enough to lose my mind, apparently.”
“Dylan.”
“But you meant something to me, Destiny.”
The night went still.
He swallowed.
“You need to know that. I don’t want you thinking I stayed away because you were some girl I didn’t think about. Because that’s not true. I thought about you too much.”
My heart beat so hard I felt it in my ears.
“I’m too old for you,” he said. “I’m patched. I’ve got blood on my hands and stories I haven’t told you because if I do, you’ll look at me different. I’m not boyfriend material. Not the kind you deserve. And your father would probably skin me alive before he ever let me date you anyway.”
“Probably,” I whispered.
His mouth twitched.
“But this?” He gestured softly between us. “Us? It’s not going to happen. Not now. Maybe not ever.”
Pain moved through me fast and hot.
“Don’t say that.”
“Beautiful—”
“Don’t ever say that.”
He closed his eyes.
“You’re young,” he said, as if forcing the words out hurt. “You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Nothing but blank pages. I’m not going to dirty them up.”
I stepped closer.
“Maybe I want you to.”
His eyes snapped open.
“Would you stop?” he hissed softly, glancing toward the distant fire. “I’m trying to be serious here.”
“I am serious.”
“No, you’re eighteen and hurt and wearing diamonds and looking at me like you don’t understand what that does to a man with bad judgment.”
I lifted my chin. “You keep telling me what I am.”
“Because someone has to remind both of us.”
“I’m not a child.”
“I know that.”
“Then stop treating my feelings like they’re temporary because they’re inconvenient.”
His face tightened.
That hit him.
Good.
Maybe I wanted it to.
Maybe I wanted one thing to land on him as hard as he kept landing on me.
“I’m not saying what you feel isn’t real,” he said quietly. “I’m saying real doesn’t always mean right now.”
The words hurt worse because they were gentle.
I looked down at the bracelet.
Mother-of-pearl shimmered on my wrist, soft as moonlight.
“What if I don’t want to forget you?” I asked.
Dylan exhaled like something inside him broke.
“Then don’t.”
My eyes lifted.
He stepped closer this time.
Not touching.
Close enough that I could feel his warmth.
“Don’t forget me,” he said. “Just don’t stop your life for me.”
The first tear slipped before I could catch it.
Dylan saw it.