Chapter 17
Luke
I raised my hand to my face and squinted at the sharp sting.
The pain could be easily explained by the nasty bruise on my face after losing my balance on the board and smacking my head against it as I plunged into the water.
But the way it felt to see Jeremy’s hands on Hazel hit me much harder and made a lot less sense.
After what felt like a full minute below, I surfaced to Alex laughing and shouting if I was okay. The sudden spike of anger was directed more at my reaction than at Jeremy. What had I even had to be angry about, really?
Back at the house, I went looking for something cold to put on my face. The fridge was stocked with dented cans of beans, chickpeas, and pickled mushrooms. Were cashiers stomping on cans just for fun?!
I grabbed a bottle and an ice pack and let the fridge door swing shut.
I’d known Jeremy for a long time, and although we didn’t see each other often, I knew he would never make Hazel uncomfortable. I worried that she might feel something for him.
For God’s sake. Just shove it in. Shove your ridiculous feelings deep inside.
I cracked open a beer and stepped onto the patio. Alex, Ava, Summer, and Norah had already gone upstairs. Hazel was in the shower, leaving just me, Logan, Ethan, and Jeremy.
“So, how long are you staying here, man?” Ethan asked Jeremy.
“Just tonight. Tomorrow, I’m off to Spain. My buddy has a van. We’re planning to ride the Bay of Biscay coastline up to the English Channel. Maybe grab some Belgian waffles along the way.”
“Nice. You’ll catch babes fresh out of hibernation,” Ethan joked.
“I don’t know. He was getting pretty cozy with Hazel at the beach,” Logan chimed in.
“Give it a rest. She’s a friend of my sister’s. It was about her mom. I just gave her a hug. That’s all.”
Right! Her mom. I sighed internally. He must’ve known her.
“Good, because our Luke has a crush on Hazel.” If there hadn’t been a fragile glass desk between us, I would’ve tackled Ethan.
“You don’t say,” Jeremy said, grinning at me.
I turned to Jeremy, keeping my composure. “You see, I hit my head a little today. Ethan, on the other hand, was dropped on his head a lot as a kid, so he’s got some brain damage.”
Ethan gasped dramatically. Meanwhile, Jeremy leaned in, angling toward the left where I was sitting.
“Hey, man, can we talk privately for a sec?” His serious tone caught my attention.
“Sure.” I’d only seen Jeremy serious a few times, mostly after an injury, and we always ended up laughing about it.
The patio wasn’t just wide, it stretched far out toward the shore. We wandered farther from the door, putting some distance between us and the others. He leaned against the railing that marked the edge between the house and the sand.
“Listen, knowing those guys, they’re probably busting your balls, but I just want to let you know, nothing is going on between me and Hazel.”
“Oh, stop. They’re making a Hallmark movie out of nothing. Obsessed with me finding a wife. It’s just the girls taking over their brains.” I brushed him off.
“Yes, yes, love’s the worst,” he chuckled. “Whatever it is, I just wanted to let you know. And,” he paused, searching for the right words. “There’s this other thing.”
Weird awkwardness filled the air. “It seems to me that Hazel trusts you guys. And... I’m not exactly easy to reach.” I tried to follow, but the pieces weren’t fitting together.
“Hazel had a boyfriend. Jackson something. I’ve met him maybe once. Obsessed with starting his own business, wearing a suit—your type of guy.”
I hated it. I absolutely hated that he compared him to me. I despised it to my core, even though I’d never met the guy.
“I mean appearance-like. Whatever, we never really clicked, but there was nothing particularly wrong with him.” He exhaled deeply.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be saying this, but if you know Hazel, you know she’s probably not going to ask for help.
” I started feeling uneasy, suspicion creeping in.
“I talked to her on the beach and from what I gathered... I think he’s harassing her. ”
My face went blank, anger suddenly boiling up. Was he the guy from the coffee shop? The one she was hiding from? I gripped the bottle so tightly, fighting to stay calm, that I thought it would shatter in my hand.
“Do you know more about him? Like where he lives? Or his social security number?” I laughed, but there was nothing funny about it.
“All I know is from Mady. Hazel told me they grew apart, and the break-up was neutral at least, but... something in her voice seemed off.”
Damn it, Hazel. Why don’t you ever ask for help?
I just wanted to go upstairs and... I don’t know.
Keep her in our room, away from her job, her idiot ex, all of it.
Feed her sushi, let the sunshine burn the stress off her shoulders.
Make her safe. Maybe catch that smile again while she watched some dumb fish swim by.
“Don’t tell her I said anything, but keep an eye on her. Mady’s out of the city a lot, so I’m guessing Hazel doesn’t share all this with her.”
“Thanks, man, for letting me know. I will.” I will.
Not that I didn’t have it before, but I felt a new level of respect for Jeremy. For talking to me about this.
We clinked our beer bottles, and he returned to the couch while I headed upstairs. I needed to be near her. Not because of any danger, but for my own peace of mind. To see that she felt safe here. But as I reached the door, she was suddenly there, standing in front of me, just about to head out.
She was here. She was safe. The weight in my chest loosened, but I still needed to let it out somehow—the worry, the frustration, the fucking yearning. My smile slipped into a frown, and she caught it instantly.
Before she could ask what was wrong, I pulled her into a hug.
It wasn’t romantic or sexual. Nothing like the pull I’d felt in the photo booth or when I caught sight of that stunning tattoo on her leg. This was different. This was just... relief.
“What did I do?” she laughed, her beautiful, sparkling laugh filling the air without a care on her mind. It eased me a little, even though I knew. I knew now something was wrong. She stayed in my bear hug for a while. Not that she could escape. My size allowed me to protect her easily.
Her palms rested lightly on my sides first, lingering there as if testing the moment, then slowly her arms wound around me. I wanted to hold her tighter, but something within me softened, like the quiet stillness that follows a passing storm.
I nuzzled her neck, squeezing her tighter, and she melted into me.
Oh, how she melted. Formed against my body. Like cheese in my hot oven body. Her waist and chest were pressed against me, and I wanted to absorb her, breathe her in. I’d never be able to eat or smell a mango without thinking of her ever again. She ruined the fruit for me. How dare she?!
“Nothing. Just for being you.” I couldn’t tell her the truth. What even was the truth? That I was starting to feel desperate for her? That I was selfish and just wanted her without giving her what she needed? I didn’t even know how to answer that for myself, let alone her.
We stayed like that, neither of us wanting to let go.
“That’s oddly vague,” she said, her tone turning worried.
She didn’t move, just rubbed my back a little, comforting me.
“I was about to go downstairs, but do you want to stay here and play chess?” Her calm voice vibrated against my ear, and I leaned into her more, my fingers digging into her sides.
I drew in one last breath of her scent, letting it settle in my memory to carry me through another day, then gently let her go.
The smile that greeted me was pure sunshine, warming my heart.
“I hope you’re ready to lose,” I teased, hoping to make her laugh. I succeeded.
“We’ll see,” she shot back, her grin widening, freckles dancing across her rosy face.
* * *
Hazel was mouthing along to Keane as the music filled the room.
We’d been playing chess for two hours, and unfortunately for her, I was excellent at it.
Her moves weren’t bad—far from it—but she hadn’t quite cracked the code to actually win.
Still, the concentration on her face was something to behold.
She considered each move with care, trying to anticipate mine, and I couldn’t help but admire her determination, even as I stayed stubbornly five steps ahead.
For a moment, I considered letting her win, but Hazel didn’t want a pity victory. She even warned me, which I found hilarious. But she tried so hard to threaten me that I had to promise not to go easy on her.
Hazel liked to learn, analyze, and adapt, and I had mad respect for that. Even when I pointed out she couldn’t recover from the position, she insisted on finishing every game. Losing for two hours straight and still wanting to play? Honestly, it was pretty impressive.
At first, we only discussed chess logistics, but soon, our conversation moved into deeper topics. Each of us searched for more and more intimate questions.
“Your friends told me you’ve surfed a lot in other places. So much that you could’ve gone pro,” Hazel said, eyes locked on the board, planning her next move. I chuckled.
“Funny. My parents used to say that I won’t make a career out of it.”
“Maybe not, but sometimes the wrong path leads you to the right place,” she mused, focused on her rook.
Don’t go there. I’ll take it in two moves.
“I actually had a friend, a pro surfer, who got injured. It made him stop and figure out what else could make him feel that alive. Turns out, it was cooking. He moved to the States and ended up becoming a famous chef.”
I raised an eyebrow, skeptical, but her eyes told me it was true. “So, what’s your career failure turned passion?” I asked, sliding my queen into position. Her face shifted as she realized what was coming.
“Barista turned professional cheese sniffer,” she answered without missing a beat.
I laughed. So hard. “What?”