Chapter Nine
—NOA
I’m a mixture of annoyance and worry as I watch them approach. Whatever they want, it can’t be good. Jordan saw me in the sheriff’s station yesterday, so who knows what drama that’s kicked off. Tech’s mother had warned us not to get in trouble. We didn’t exactly listen.
“There she is,” Matteo announces as he crosses the sand. Next to him, Jordan and Hailey smile politely, or what should be perceived as polite. I’m pretty sure they’re mocking me.
And behind them, I notice Jamie—casually hanging out with the worst people I know. I shake my head, disgusted. At least he has the decency to seem embarrassed. He should be.
I know that, and yet… I don’t look away from him right away.
I can’t. It’s almost surreal to have him on my beach again, although he practically lived here every summer.
He was one of us. How I would watch him then, gaze at him like he’d always be there for me to admire. And how I’ve resented him ever since.
I drag my eyes away to turn back to Matteo. “Here I am,” I say coldly. “How can I help you today?”
“So professional,” Matteo says with a laugh. He studies me before tossing a hateful glance toward Tech and Shawn at the counter. There’s no love lost there. After a nasty fight that included a piece of driftwood and two head staples, I’d say it’s more like hate between him and the other Chasers.
“I see your friends back there,” he says, nodding toward them. “No Ellis?”
The comment wounds me, and I tighten my posture. “You know my brother’s not here,” I say. He watches me a moment, and then he nods like he’s sorry he brought it up. Either way, it’s cruel.
Matteo takes in a deep breath as if trying to center himself before looking at me again.
The small scar near his temple reflects light through his newly shaved dark hair.
Even though he’s trying to be hard, he betrays a flash of tenderness toward me.
Hailey clears her throat as if realizing, and that version of Matteo vanishes.
“Listen, Noa,” he says, sickly sweet. “We’re friends, right?”
We are definitely not friends. Matteo and I dated briefly last year—when I was at a low point in my life. My mother had just passed away. To say I was vulnerable would be an understatement. I was lonely. And I was definitely not thinking clearly.
“Just tell me what you want, Matteo,” I say, dropping the formality.
“What do you think?” he says with a grin. “I’m here to surf.”
“Then go get your board,” I respond easily. “You don’t need our help.”
“But I forgot mine at home,” he says, pouting out his lower lip. “Figured I could borrow one of yours.”
“Not a chance,” I tell him, not buying his bullshit.
“Oh, come on. I’ll pay.”
I pause, and then I’m sickened that I have to consider this, that his money has any power over me. But we do need the business. We haven’t had a single customer all day.
“How much?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager.
“Hailey, give her fifty bucks,” he says, snapping his fingers.
“Why do I have to pay her?” she asks. Hailey reaches into her designer beach bag and takes out her wallet.
“A hundred,” I say, surprised they’re willing to pay so quickly. “Per hour,” I add.
Hailey drops her arm and looks at Matteo to convey how ridiculous she thinks it is to pay me that much. Her diamond-and-gold necklace, the one that reads “Best,” sparkles in the sunlight.
“It’s okay, Hailey,” Matteo says to her while still watching me. “I’ll pay you back. Just give her the money.”
“Fucking fine,” she huffs. “She needs it more than me anyway.”
I flinch, but I have to take their money. I’m charging them four times the hourly rate—there should be a victory in that, but her comment gets under my skin. Mainly because she’s right. I do need the money more than she does.
“Actually, I’ll get this one,” Jamie says, stepping forward. He pushes Hailey’s money away as he approaches. He stops in front of me, his voice low and controlled. “Do you take credit cards?” he asks.
I can barely meet his eyes, very aware of how close he is. The way I’ve always loved the spice of his cologne. The warmth. I turn my head, pretending to look back at the Shack. I don’t need his pity. “Sure,” I reply. “But then it’ll be one hundred fifty.”
“Damn,” he replies under his breath. He takes out his wallet, and I notice that Matteo doesn’t offer to pay him back. He must not be an official member of their little club yet.
When I look toward Matteo again, he’s staring Jamie down, his eyes questioning.
I laugh to myself. He can’t seriously be jealous.
But, to prove he is, he nods toward Jamie as if silently asking me what I think of him.
Of course, I’ve never told Matteo anything about me and Jamie, let alone exactly how much I’ve thought about him.
So I smile brightly, giving him the impression that I’m thrilled to be this close to Jamie Matthews. Just living for it. Matteo’s smarmy expression falters, his eyes slashing at the back of Jamie’s head. Good. I hope it stings.
Just then, Jamie interrupts by trying to hand me his credit card. Again, I can barely look at him. I point my clipboard toward the Shack. “You’ll have to run your card at the counter,” I say. “Tech will take care of you.”
He waits a beat, and I can feel him staring at the side of my face, daring me to look at him.
And then he sniffs a laugh like I’m unbelievable and walks past me toward the dock.
As he does, his arm brushes against mine, and I quickly straighten away from the shot of electricity it sends over my skin.
For a moment, I’m still with it—letting it pulse through me, hot. Painful.
“Get me a good board,” Matteo calls to him, dragging me out of my head. “None of that tourist shit.”
Matteo pulls off his shirt and tosses it aside in the sand. He flashes his muscles at me, and I sigh. I’ve seen it all before. I’m not impressed.
“Oh, come on,” he says quietly to me, sounding a little hurt. He darts his eyes behind me toward Jamie. “And him?” he asks. “Seriously?”
I shrug to dig in a little deeper, to wound him. But really, I don’t care what Matteo thinks about anything. He’s burned me too. Hurt me when I was barely hanging on. And I’m just not the forgiving type anymore.
“Don’t worry,” I say loudly, and motion to the girls in the sand. “You have an entire fan club to admire you.”
“I’m actually working on my tan,” Hailey calls out to correct me. Yeah, right. Her face is as pale as porcelain. I’m not convinced the sunlight has ever touched her skin.
“Whatever,” I say, over them. “Just be careful with my board, okay?” I tell Matteo.
He puts his hand over his heart like it’s a promise. For a moment, he even seems sincere. And with that, my guard drops slightly. I step closer to him, lowering my voice.
“Hey, um…” I say, and he tilts his head to listen. “Did Felix leave town?”
He straightens back, caught off guard by the question. Then he nods. “Seems so,” he replies. “I went looking, but…” He shrugs. “I couldn’t find him. No trace.”
Although they weren’t brothers, Matteo and Felix were close growing up. I’m not sure when that changed, but it seemed to be when Matteo started doing more work for his father.
“You have no idea where he went?” I ask. My question is a thinly veiled reference to my brother, and Matteo sees right through it.
He laughs, low. His face changing. “That’s why I asked if Ellis was here,” he confesses.
His coldness floods back in, as if he doesn’t like to be reminded that his cousin used to hang out with Chasers.
“And if he is with your brother,” he adds, suddenly loud enough for the girls to hear, “then he shouldn’t bother coming home. We don’t like traitors.”
I scoff, both at his hypocrisy and his cruelty.
“You are so fucking insecure,” I tell him.
He lifts his chin defiantly. “You know what?” I add.
“You should be proud. You sound exactly like your father now.” The comment annoys Matteo, as if I don’t even know his father.
But I’ve seen and heard enough from him.
And as far as my brother goes, anyone in the Mancini family would be lucky to be friends with him.
Felix certainly felt that way. In fact, he and my brother had plans to start their own charter business in Cape Hope.
There was a future, one that came crashing down when my brother left.
So if Felix has gone to join my brother somewhere, it’s not a bad thing.
It’s because they’re doing something good.
At least, that’s what I want to believe.
“You’ve got one hour,” I tell Matteo, done with the conversation. “I’m setting a timer.”
He smiles bitterly. “Don’t go running off with the Matthews kid while I’m away,” he says.
“Okay, I’ll try not to,” I say mockingly.
I walk back toward to the Surf Shack, cursing under my breath as I go.
I wasn’t lying about Matteo being insecure.
He’s always been that way—too worried about what the others in the Collective think of him, even if he is their top dog.
Sure, he’s had his moments of being a real person, but those have grown few and far between.
I blame that squarely on his father’s influence.
As I reach the Shack, I stop next to Shawn, who is watching the group from behind her reflective sunglasses. Her jaw is tight, and I already know her opinion.
“It’s just an hour,” I tell her, and she hums like she’s not happy about it. Neither am I, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t like to stay afloat here.
I glance over to the counter and see that Jamie is still standing there, looking annoyed, while both Tech and Shawn ignore him. When I turn to Shawn accusingly, she fights back her smile, as if telling me he’s my problem to deal with.
“Mean,” I say, making her laugh before heading toward the counter. She’s not wrong, but I still don’t want to deal with this right now.