Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty
RACHEL
Isink into a low-slung beach chair, the canvas warm beneath my bare thighs. Legs stretching out, catching flecks of sunlight that scatter across the dock. The sun hangs high, lazy and indulgent, casting the lake in gold and teasing us with the illusion that summer will never end.
Margo lounges beside me, a half-empty seltzer balanced against her thigh. She twirls a loose strand of hair around her finger, humming along with faint music drifting from the speaker on the dock.
Lexi sprawls flat on a towel, every limb relaxed. Slone props her feet on the edge of a cooler, one knee bent, sipping something with a slice of lime caught between glass and lip.
“You’re staring,” Margo says without looking at me.
“I am not,” I snap, though my head betrays me, tilting toward the boys.
“You totally are,” she insists, voice sing-songy.
I glance anyway. Down by the dock, Wes, Rhett, Connor, and Anderson are barefoot, tossing a football in the soft grass.
Their laughter rolls across the water. Beads of sweat glint on sun-warmed skin, arms rippling with motion, and every so often, one of them yells something ridiculous, sending the others into uncontrollable laughter.
Nothing here feels real enough to be a responsibility or a consequence.
My eyes snag on Rhett. He catches a pass with one hand, jogging backward with that infuriating swagger, while Wes mutters curses under his breath. My lungs pause, forgetting how to breathe.
He glances over and smiles just for me. I can’t stop the way heat pools low in me, pressing against the small of my stomach.
Slone, ever the clairvoyant, smirks over her glass. “It’s okay. We support lake lust, Rach.”
“Lake lust is not a thing,” I reply.
“It absolutely is,” Lexi chimes in, lifting her sunglasses with one hand. “It’s like Vegas rules. What happens on lake time, stays on lake time.”
I shake my head, trying not to laugh, and glance at Margo, who nudges my foot with hers. “Whatever happens, just don’t overthink it, okay?”
“Pfff, I don’t overthink things.”
All three of them pause, staring at me like I’ve just announced the Earth is flat. I feel heat rise to my cheeks. “Okay, fine,” I admit.
I take another sip of my drink and peek over my sunglasses. Desperate to change the subject, I project, “So… Slone. You and Connor have been attached at the hip lately.”
Margo raises her eyebrows, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. She leans a little closer, clearly invested. Lexi snorts into her can, a bubble of laughter floating through.
Slone doesn’t flinch. She tilts her head back, a sly, lazy smile curves her lips. “Yeah? And?”
“That’s it? No denial? No snarky comeback?”
She shrugs one shoulder. “Why deny it? He’s hot. He’s funny. He respects women. He makes a decent margarita. And he doesn’t talk through movies. I’d be an idiot not to enjoy his company.”
“Well damn,” Margo says, laughing, head thrown back. “Love the honesty, Slone.”
“I do love blunt Slone,” Lexi adds.
“I’m just saying,” I reply, grinning, “I figured you were going to deny it, give us some mystery. You know a little suspense for the entertainment of your friends.”
Slone pulls her sunglasses down to glare at me over the rims, a playful gleam in her eyes.
“Mystery is overrated. I know what I want, and I take it. That has served me well in my twenty-six years of life.” She laughs softly and takes a sip.
“Life’s short. Flirting is fun. Why waste it pretending otherwise? ”
“Maybe you could date him,” I mutter. “We all know you have chemistry.”
“Oh, I don’t do serious,” she fires back.
Lexi rolls her eyes. “Don’t waste your time, Rach. I’ve been begging her for years to have a serious relationship. Years. It’s exhausting.”
Slone shrugs, sipping her drink, unfazed. “I’ll enjoy my freedom while it lasts. What about you, Lex? You work so hard, you don’t even have time to sleep with men, let alone date them,” Slone teases.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lexi says, brushing it off, but her cheeks tint faintly pink.
Margo leans back and waves a finger toward Lexi. “Wait, Lex, when is the last time you, you know.”
Lexi groans. “Uh, maybe six months ago? Hard to say. I did go on a date with a guy named Chad, which tells you everything you need to know. So yeah. It’s been a minute.”
Slone snorts. “Six months is way too long.”
“Oh, absolutely not.” Lexi drops the towel, laughing. “Men are almost never worth the effort. All my effort goes towards relaxing nowadays.”
“You know,” I say, smirking, “Wes seems like a guy who would know how to help you relax.”
“You guys are the worst. I definitely do not need a man. Especially one named Wes.”
“We’re the best,” Margo corrects, smirking, reaching over to pinch Lexi’s shoulder. “You’ll thank us someday when you’re naming your firstborn Wesley Junior.”
“Gross. Hell would have to freeze over before I let Wes in this temple. Plus, if anything, it’d be like Alex—why should his name get passed down if I did all the work?”
We’re still laughing when the guys wander back up the slope, sun-drenched and sweaty. Half-finished beers in hand, they’re debating loudly about whose arm is stronger, who can throw the ball farther, and who definitely cheated on the last round.
Connor is first to reach us, towel slung casually around his neck. “Ladies. Anything good happening over here?”
“Just girl talk,” Slone responds, tilting her head.
His eyes flick to her. “Anything I should be worried about?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
He shakes his head and drops into the grass at her feet. Wes slides in beside him.
Anderson follows, ambling up the hill with a grin tugging at his lips. “Hi, wifey,” he murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.
Rhett collapses into the grass next to Wes, back damp from sweat, hair falling into his eyes as he stretches out.
Slone sits up straighter, the faintest smile playing across her lips. “Okay, everyone, I’ve got something to say.”
Heads turn, chatter dies down. Even the boys pause, their curiosity piqued.
“I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” Slone begins, “about all kinds of things. About what I want. Where I want to be. And uh, I’m moving back to Atlanta.”
My jaw drops. “Wait—what? Seriously?”
Margo blinks slowly, then glances at Anderson, eyebrows raised.
He shrugs, a subtle tension in his shoulders. “I knew.”
Margo shoots him a side glance, disbelief written all over her face. “Why didn’t you say anything? I can’t believe you kept a secret from me.”
Slone tilts her head at him, eyes sharp. “I told him about a week ago. He’d been sworn to secrecy. It’s not his fault.”
Anderson smirks, the first crack in his calm exterior. “Yep. Strictest secret-keeper in the South.”
“Wow, that’s huge,” Rhett says finally, shaking his head in awe.
Slone shrugs, fingers curling lightly around her drink. She doesn’t quite look as casual as she sounds.
“I got a job opportunity I just couldn’t turn down. It’s a creative strategy role at a healthcare nonprofit. They’re expanding their outreach and wanted someone to revamp how they connect with younger communities. Part digital, part boots-on-the-ground. Right up my alley.”
She pauses, glancing at Margo briefly before returning her gaze to the group.
“And yeah… being closer to you guys doesn’t hurt,” she adds, tossing the words off lightly, though the smile says otherwise.
Slone leans forward again, demanding our attention with that sly grin. “Also, I’ve convinced Lex to move with me.”
“Oh, so we’re spilling those beans too?” Lexi laughs, “You’re making me sound like I didn’t have a choice.”
“Come on,” Slone teases, smirking. “You didn’t seem to argue much.”
Margo’s eyes sweep the group, a grin tugging at her lips. “Well, this just turned into a reunion of Atlanta’s finest.”
“Makes the next get-together way easier to plan.” Rhett grins, shoulders relaxing.
Connor nudges Wes, voice low. “One more reason for you to move back home.”
Wes shakes his head, laughing. “Ah, I don’t know about that.”
I sip my drink, feeling the sun warm my skin, and let the laughter wash over me.
Lexi stretches her legs out in front of her, her toes just skimming the wood of the dock. “Okay, am I the only one starving?”
“Me too,” Rhett says with a grin. “Are we grilling tonight?”
Anderson stands and dusts the sand off his hands. “Yeah. I picked up some more stuff this morning when I ran into town. I’ve got burgers, veggies, oh, and I got those jalapeno cheddar sausages you love, Rachel. Margo mentioned you were obsessed with them when you guys used to come here.”
I look up, surprised to hear my name spoken so casually. And just like that, it hits me square in the chest.
Josh used to grill that sausage. Every single time we came to the lake.
He called it his secret weapon, like it wasn’t store-bought and obvious to all of us.
He’d stand by the grill with a beer in one hand, humming some half-forgotten classic rock song under his breath, sunburned and barefoot, like he was born for afternoons exactly like this.
Like this was the life he was always meant to have.
The sound of Anderson’s voice and the familiar scent of sunscreen blur the line between then and now. I can almost see Josh there. I can almost feel the warmth of those summers stacked on top of each other, uncomplicated and endless. When he was still here. Still laughing. Still my big brother.
The lump in my throat rises fast. I swallow it down, forcing the moment back into its place before it can spill over. I press on a smile and hope it passes.
“Sounds perfect,” I say, “Thanks, Anderson.”
I watch as the others start gathering their things, the easy rhythm of conversation shifting to grill duty and cocktail assignments. Laughter drifts up toward the house. I tell myself I just need a minute, one small pocket of quiet, and then I’ll feel steadier.
As they start up the path, I call out, “I’ll be up in a bit.”