Chapter Eight
—JAMIE
My bedsheets are crumpled up in the corner of the mattress as I stare up at the ceiling, the air too humid to move.
When I got home last night, I didn’t tell my parents about the stolen boat.
I was too scared they would blame me, even though I had nothing to do with it.
But since I’m trying to regain their trust, rebuild our relationship, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to immediately get us all involved in a police matter—my fault or not.
And then, of course, there was Noa. Sitting there stubborn and defiant. Angry. Fucking beautiful. She clearly hates me now, which I deserve. To be honest, I’m pretty sure she would have stolen the boat even if she knew it was mine, or maybe because of it.
My heart starts to ache in that way again, that disappointment and regret. I rub at my chest like I can physically push it away. It doesn’t work. Instead, I decide to focus on my anger. It’s easier.
Noa stole my boat. She and her friends committed grand larceny, and then she had the audacity to blame me for it. But this time I’m the one in the right. I’m the one who gets to be mad.
I sit up and sigh out my frustration. No, I lose either way. Because no matter what, I hate being on the opposite side of her.
“James,” my mother calls from the living room. She sounds elated, which is concerning. It’s that high-pitched politeness that mothers reserve for phone calls and cocktail parties. “James, come out here, please.”
Hesitantly, I get out of bed and step into a pair of shorts and yank my T-shirt over my head. When I open the door, the air is much cooler outside my stuffy room.
As I walk into the living room, I pause, a bit startled.
My mother smiles winningly, and standing next to her is Jordan Miles.
Jordan’s wearing a flowing white dress, her bikini strings tied behind her neck.
I glance over to where my sister is lounging on the couch, riveted by the impending conversation.
I give her a warning glare to not embarrass me before turning back to Jordan.
“Hey, Jordan,” I say. “How’s it going?” For a moment, I worry that Jordan told my mother about the police station, but I quickly push that idea aside. She’s not the type to snitch to parents.
“I’m good,” Jordan says, and it all sounds a bit rehearsed. “I bumped into your mother in the lobby, and she told me that you didn’t have any plans today.”
I glance at my mother, who has no idea what my plans are any day, including this one.
“Wasn’t that nice of her,” I say, turning back to Jordan.
“Right?” Jordan replies. “Well, then I figured that since Hailey and I were going surfing with Matteo this morning, maybe you’d want to come along.”
“Oh,” I say, surprised to hear his name. Slightly annoyed. “Matteo’s back?”
She smiles widely. “Yes, thank god,” she says. “Things were getting boring around here.”
“You should go,” my mother cuts in, taking a step toward me. “There’s no point sitting at the resort. Have fun. Be young.”
I’m a bit amused. Who is this woman? She’s being so fake in front of Jordan that she deserves an Oscar. “Be young?” I repeat, and she stifles a laugh knowing that I see right through her act. But she likes Jordan—or more specifically, she likes Jordan for me. A good match, in her opinion.
“I’m not really a surfer,” I tell Jordan, just trying to set the right expectations.
“It’s not a problem.” She waves me off. “I don’t even go in the water. It’s mostly just Matteo out there.”
Watching Matteo Mancini surf isn’t high on my wish list, but at this point, I can’t really refuse without a good reason. “Sounds great,” I say politely. “I’ll just… I’ll go get changed.”
Jordan flashes a smile, seeming pleased.
As I turn around, I catch my sister scrunching up her nose at me, as if saying she doesn’t approve.
Astrid doesn’t like Jordan? Or maybe she’s picking up on the fact that I don’t want to go.
Either way, I wink at her and head to my room to change.
Behind me, my mother gushes to Jordan about the resort and how beautiful our suite turned out.
The sun feels too hot on my skin as Jordan and I step outside.
The heat is thick, the kind that makes the air wave like steam.
We walk the narrow path toward Paradise Beach, the surfing area a ways down from the dock, which is a good thing.
I don’t think I can handle running into Noa right now. Not with Jordan.
On the way, the sand is dotted with sprouts of grass, wild and untamed. Compared to the perfectly manicured lawns of the resort, this is a refreshing change—liking stepping out of a virtual world and into something real.
Jordan and I fall into a quiet rhythm, the sound of the ocean waves crashing in the background. I glance sideways at her and notice that she seems tense, her movements jerky.
“You okay?” I ask.
She adjusts the strap of her beach bag. “Of course,” she replies. “Just thinking.” Her voice is thin, as though she’s testing out the words.
“Fair enough,” I say. “But for the record, you sound nervous.”
Jordan looks at me for a beat, then forces a smile. “I’m fine, Jamie,” she repeats, though it’s more like a quiet plea for me to leave it alone.
I let the moment pass, and a few seconds later, two figures appear down the path. Jordan squeals in delight.
I recognize Hailey immediately, her pale skin nearly blending with the white-sand background. She’s wearing an old-fashioned yellow bathing suit with ruffles, vintage pinup style. Her red hair is twisted in a long braid over her shoulder.
Beside her, Matteo Mancini walks with an easy confidence, his chin raised as he approaches.
His eyes scan me briefly, probably judging if I’ll fit in with his group.
He reminds me of his father, although not nearly as short.
But he has a presence, an ego—an intimidation factor.
Over the years, we’ve never really spoken—never had a reason to.
Now, though, I’m very curious as to how well he knows Noa.
Jordan runs up to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Matteo lifts her off her feet, then sets her down gently. She turns back to me, smiling brightly.
“Matteo, you remember Jamie, right?” she announces as if offering me up for approval.
I extend my hand. “How’s it going?” I say to him.
Matteo takes my hand in a firm grip that feels more like a challenge, and it kind of pisses me off. Still, I keep my composure. His dark eyes are steady, not unfriendly, but definitely not warm. It’s a bit tense.
“Brent Matthews’s kid,” he says with a slight nod, his voice low. “Yeah, I know who you are.”
I try to hide my discomfort and flash a smile. “Yep, that’s me,” I say.
He leans back on his heels, getting another look at me. “Where have you been the last few years?” he asks. “I haven’t seen you around in a while.”
I keep the tone light. “School,” I say, but the word tastes bitter as it leaves my mouth. It wasn’t exactly my choice to be there. “Out in Virginia,” I add. Tightness crowds my chest, and I flex my hand as if it can distract my body.
Matteo nods, his eyes flickering between me and Jordan. “Good to see you, Jamie,” he says. It’s a neutral statement—no warmth, no coldness. Just there.
“Yeah, you too,” I reply.
Jordan loops her arm through Matteo’s and they continue down the path toward the beach, Hailey trotting behind them and struggling to keep up.
“How are you?” Jordan asks Matteo, her voice softer, more familiar, as she nudges his shoulder.
“Been a crazy few days,” Matteo admits. “I don’t really want to talk about him,” he murmurs, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.
“Your cousin?” Hailey asks, inserting herself into the conversation. Matteo looks back at her, a flash of irritation crossing his face before he notices that I’m watching. He quickly masks it with a more composed expression.
“Yes, Hailey,” he says. “Felix ran off. Right in the middle of the night, he just… left without a word. Didn’t even pack a bag.
My aunt is losing her mind, and my father…
well, he’s pissed, as you can imagine. He expects more from the family.
But…” He shrugs his indifference but it seems calculated. “What can you do?”
Felix ran away? It’s been a few years, but I remember him. I mean, we hung out a bunch of times. He was cool. Neither of us got along with our families, choosing beach life instead. I hope he’s all right.
“In my opinion,” Hailey offers, “your father should have cut him off when he started hanging out with that Chaser. Check if there’s money missing, and then he’ll have his answer.”
Jordan nods along, but I’m annoyed at the insinuation.
Yes, a group of Chasers stole my boat yesterday—and I’m still mad about it—but it’s unfair to brand an entire community as criminals.
Plus, if Felix did, in fact, steal money from Alessandro Mancini, which I doubt, he would need help.
Matteo’s father is part owner in the Augustus Resort, same as Jordan’s mother.
They have the best security money can buy, so it’s not like someone could just walk in and crack their safe. My father is nothing if not thorough.
Matteo shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about my cousin,” he says. “What have I missed around here? Please tell me Creed isn’t trying to take over.”
“Of course he is,” Jordan laughs, and the mood shifts as the girls fill him in on the latest gossip. I trail behind them, feeling a little left out. At the same time, I’m not trying to jump in, either.
As we reach the beach, the sound of the waves crashes louder. Instead of turning left toward the open area, they pause there. It’s then that I realize that none of these guys have any equipment with them. No boards. No wet suits.
“You are planning to surf, right?” I ask. “Where are your boards?”
Hailey gives Matteo a sly, almost devious smile, but Jordan looks confused. Matteo glances back me.
“It’s okay,” he says, nodding toward the dock and the Surf Shack. “I’m going to rent one from them.”
My heart skips. Why would he need to rent a board when he’s probably got a whole garage full of them? Really nice ones too, I’m sure.
They start walking that way, and reluctantly, I follow. Although I don’t want to bump into the others, I’m incredibly curious as to what this is really about. “Yeah, but don’t you have your own board?” I press.
Matteo stops, and then turns fully to face me. “Of course I do,” he says, a smirk pulling at his lips. “But I’m looking for something a little more fun.” He glances at Hailey and Jordan, and then he starts walking toward the small shop by the dock.
I swallow hard, not at all liking the vibe.
“Come on,” Hailey urges, grabbing Jordan’s hand to pull her along.
I follow them, still confused. Worried. I look toward the dock, trying to convince myself it’ll be fine. Technically, I can use the excuse of checking on my boat, seeing if she’s back from impound yet. They can’t judge me for that.
Just then, a group of workers comes out of the shop, the bright, rainbow-colored sign above them announcing the Surf Shack.
I stop in my tracks when I see Noa again, regretting coming down to the beach altogether.
I want to be mad at her, stay mad at her—it would be easier.
But I can’t force it. Instead, I just want her to stop hating me.
Noa shields her eyes from the sun as she watches Matteo and the others approach.
She hasn’t noticed me yet, wholly focused on the others.
Standing next to her are Tech and Shawn, and I have a small flash of annoyance when I’m reminded that they all went joyriding on my boat together. And I know none of them are sorry.
Noa says something privately to the others before grabbing a clipboard and walking onto the sand.
As she approaches Matteo and the girls, her gaze lands on me in the background.
Her eyes widen for a split second, before she glances toward the dock, where my boat should be, but it’s still not there.
When she turns to me again, there’s guilt in her eyes.
She should feel guilty. But even so, my heart picks up its pace as Matteo and the others walk toward her. I can’t shake the feeling that something’s not right. What exactly do they have planned?