Seb
“So are you finally going to tell me the truth about Roxie?” James asked me as the two of us ran along the beach the following day. He’d tried to get the story out of me earlier by the pool, but I’d refused. Clearly, he thought I’d be more loose lipped a few miles into a run.
If I didn’t love him as much as I did, I would have strung him up by his perfectly tailored pants.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I gave him the same response I always had whenever he asked about what was going on between me and Roxie.
But it looked like he wouldn’t settle for the same excuse this morning.
“Cut the shit, Seb.” James gave me a look as we continued running, sand slicing through the air behind us. “What the fuck is going on between you and Roxie? That is Hallie’s best friend and I am not about to let you pull your usual shit with her.”
I would’ve smiled or made a joke to brush him off, but something was telling me now was my chance to come clean.
“I know her.”
James slowed to a jog, glancing at me as if deciding whether to hit me or grill me. “You know her?”
“Yeah, but not in the way you think,” I said, breathing heavily, wishing I’d told him to fuck off earlier when he pulled me away from the pool to go for a run. “I knew her when we were kids. Grew up together in Connecticut. Our families ran in the same circle.”
James’s brows drew together as he tried to put all the pieces together. “How can that be possible? Roxie doesn’t come from money.”
I gave a humorless laugh, slowing my pace until we were just walking along the shoreline. “Not anymore. But she used to.”
James arched a brow, sweat already glistening at his hairline. “What does that mean? Used to?”
“It means she was one of us. Trust fund. Summer house on the coast. Private school. Grandfather with an ego the size of Manhattan and a bank account to match.” I shook my head. “And then she wasn’t.”
James stayed quiet, but his expression sharpened with focus.
“She got cut off the summer before college,” I added. “No warning. No backup. Just gone. Her entire safety net disappeared. And the worst part?” I paused, jaw working. “It was my fault.”
James blinked like he wasn’t sure he had heard me correctly. “You? What the hell did you do?”
I glanced at the horizon, letting the salt fill my lungs before answering. “I thought she betrayed me. Saw her kissing someone else at a party. We were supposed to talk that night, and instead I walked in on her wrapped around some guy like I hadn’t meant a damn thing. Or so I thought.”
“You two were together?”
“No,” I said, then sighed. “Not officially. But it was heading there. We were inseparable. Best friends since we were kids. She was it for me and she didn’t even know it.”
James whistled under his breath. “And you just … what, lost it?”
I nodded once. “Went straight to her grandfather. Told him she wasn’t planning on going to Harvard, which was one of the stipulations he put in place for her to acquire her trust fund at eighteen. That she wanted to go to art school instead. I was there when he took it away from her.”
“Jesus, Sebastian,” James muttered, dragging a hand down his face.
“Yeah. I know.”
The ocean crashed near our feet, cold and foamy, dragging the sand back with it like it was erasing every step we’d taken. If only it were that easy to get rid of the past.
“I hadn’t seen her since the day her grandfather cut her off,” I said quietly. “Not until we walked into McGuire’s. Last night was the first time we really talked about it.”
James looked over at me. “And now?”
I shrugged. “Now I’m trying not to fuck it up more than I already have. I asked her if there’s a chance, we could just … be friends again.”
James gave me a long look. “And is that really what you want?”
I didn’t answer right away. Because yeah, I wanted her as a friend. But that wasn’t all I wanted. Not even close. But asking for more? That wasn’t on the table. Not unless she put it there.
“It’s all I can ask for.”
Quiet stretched between the two of us for a beat. Then James said, “Well, I hope you meant that. Because Hallie would kill you if you broke Roxie’s heart. And if you hurt Hallie because you hurt Roxie, then we’ll have a problem, and I don’t want to have a problem with you, Seb.”
I gave a dry laugh. “Trust me. Roxie would get there first.”
We stood there a while longer, side by side, the sun climbing higher above the water. Whatever came next, I knew one thing for sure—if Roxie gave me even a sliver of trust back, I was going to hold onto it like my life depended on it.
James nudged me with his shoulder as we turned back to the house, sand crunching beneath our shoes. “I’m a bit pissed you didn’t tell me, but at least you’re finally acting like a human being about something.”
“Oh, don’t get all emotional on me now,” I said, rolling my eyes. “You already dragged me out of bed at an hour that should be illegal. That’s more than enough bonding for one morning.”
He laughed, the sound cutting through the quiet stretch of coastline. “Come on, admit it. You’ve missed our morning runs that we used to do back at Princeton.”
“I miss sleeping. And my dignity.”
James just grinned. “You haven’t had dignity for a long time.”
We kept walking, the sun behind us, warming the back of my neck. The wind was salty and soft, the kind of breeze that used to get me excited to take the sailboat out on the water.
James glanced sideways at me. “You know what we should do today?”
“If it involves food or going back to bed, I’m listening.”
“No,” he said, nudging me again with his shoulder.
“We should take the girls out on the boat this afternoon. It’s supposed to be a perfect day.
Calm water, no clouds. Sailing on Memorial Day weekend at the Hamptons?
Not sure you could get any better than that.
Hallie will love it. I think Roxie might like it too. ”
Back on the water. With her.
It felt as though the universe had thrown me a lifeline made of nostalgia and salt air.
The sailboat had always been our place. Maybe not James’s sailboat, but it was practically the same thing.
A sailboat was where everything started between us.
And maybe, if I played this right, it could be where things started again.
“A fresh start,” I muttered, almost to myself.
“What was that?” James asked, glancing back at me as we climbed onto the dock that stretched across the beach and out into the ocean.
I shook my head, still smiling. “Nothing, just thinking it’s a good idea.”
James lifted an eyebrow. “So that’s a yes?”
“That’s a definite yes,” I said. “Besides, I look great in a pair of swim trunks.”
“You are ridiculous,” James laughed as we crested the hill, and the pool came into view.
We crossed toward the back door just as the sun crowned over the dunes, light flooding the sky in warm golds and pale blues.
The porch creaked under our shoes, and I glanced toward the primary bedroom window that looked over the yard, wondering if Roxie was awake.
James pushed open the door just as I spotted her through the kitchen window. She stood by the sink, her hair shimmering in the sunlight.
As soon as we stepped inside, I felt a shift in the air before anyone said a word.
Roxie looked up at us, eyes narrowing just slightly in that way she always did when she was pretending not to be amused. Hallie stood beside her, mid-pour with a pitcher of iced coffee, but it was Roxie who held my focus.
Pigs could have been soaring through the air, but I wouldn’t have noticed as long as she was in the room.
“I thought we’d take the sailboat out. Have either of you sailed before?” James asked, still slightly out of breath.
The two girls exchanged a look, then Hallie grinned and handed him a glass.
I caught Roxie’s eye from where I was still standing by the back door. It was about to be her, me, and the ocean. Once again, after all this time.
The sun was high in the sky by the time we got the boat out on the water, warming the teak deck beneath my bare feet.
James had taken over the wheel after letting Hallie take it for a spin—who was now perched in the seat next to him.
The two were lost in a conversation that was just for them, the kind where you didn’t actually have to talk that much because the other already knew what you were thinking.
It used to be like that for Roxie and me.
She was sitting near the stern, legs stretched out, one foot lazily skimming over the polished wood rail.
She wore an oversized linen shirt over her swimsuit, sleeves rolled up to her elbows, sunglasses perched on the end of her nose, and a large-brimmed hat covering most of her face from the sun. She hadn’t said much since we set sail.
With every minute that I let pass, I knew I was missing out on an opportunity to try to continue this flimsy truce that we called last night.
I waited until James and Hallie were distracted, then grabbed two bottles of sparkling water from the cooler and walked over to her, letting the boat rock beneath my feet.
The old familiar sway provided me with a bit of confidence as I tried to figure out a way to spark up a conversation.
“Peace offering,” I said, holding one of the bottles out to her.
She eyed it, then me. “What am I being bribed into?”
“Talking to me,” I said, standing next to her. “Just for a minute.”
She took the bottle and twisted the cap.
“This reminds me of that Fourth of July regatta,” I said, looking out at the horizon. “You wore that red-and-white striped romper and beat every one of us at the sailboat race.”
“You mean the race you insisted I couldn’t win because I didn’t weigh enough to balance the wind?”
I cracked a smile. “You proved me wrong. You always do.”
There was a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Damn right.”
She was teasing me. That had to count for something. Right?
The boat creaked as it leaned into a soft turn, salt spray misting the air. Roxie brought her knees up, resting her chin on them. I waited a beat, then spoke again, my voice lower this time.
“I wasn’t lying last night. About wanting a fresh start. I know I don’t deserve one. But I’m here anyway, trying.”
Her gaze flicked toward me, unreadable behind the afternoon light. “Trying to be friends?”
“If that’s what you want.”
“And if it’s not?”
I didn’t breathe for a second. “Then tell me what you want.”
She looked away, and for a heartbeat, I thought that was it. She was going to turn back and tell me she had changed her mind, and she didn’t want to see me ever again after this weekend. But then she spoke, like she was picking her way through the words carefully.
“Fuck, I’m probably about to regret this,” she said, almost as if she were talking to herself.
“I want to stop wondering what might’ve happened if you hadn’t walked into that room.
If you hadn’t gone to my grandfather. I want to stop resenting that I still miss someone who didn’t believe in me when it counted. ”
Her words were so confusing that the next rocking of the boat sent me stumbling toward the railing. Just before I fell into the Atlantic, Roxie wrapped her arms around my waist, pulling me onto the bench beside her.
I landed with a thud, the air escaping from my lungs, half on the cushion, half on her warm thigh. Her hands were still around me, and the world seemed to stop as we both froze.
“Jesus, Sebastian,” she said, voice breathless with laughter. “You’ve always been dramatic, but throwing yourself overboard feels a little excessive, even for you.”
“Not my best look,” I muttered, still very aware of the fact that her hands were on me. That she hadn’t let go yet.
“Definitely not,” she agreed, but there was the faintest tug at the corner of her mouth.
I’d almost forgotten how easy it was to be around her. For us to just be us.
Slowly, she let her arms fall away, but her thigh still pressed against mine, her skin warm and soft and suddenly impossible to ignore.
“I can’t believe you almost fell off the boat,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s so unlike you. All those racing titles and you’re still unsteady on your feet. I should’ve let you go in.”
“That’s so nice of you,” I replied, flashing her a sarcastic smile. “Maybe that would’ve scored me some sympathy points.”
“Oh, trust me,” she said, tipping her sunglasses further down her nose so I could see her eyes. “You’re not scoring any points. Sympathy or otherwise.”
“Not yet.”
“You are so full of yourself.”
“Someone has to believe in me if no one else will.”
That made her pause. She frowned.
But I quickly changed the subject before she could ask what I meant. “I hope this isn’t weird for me to say, but I want you to know I’m proud of you, by the way. Being one of the main gallerists at a high-end gallery in New York City is incredible. You’re living out your dreams.”
She arched a brow. “Are you trying to win me over again?”
“Depends,” I said, leaning a fraction closer. “Is it working?”
Roxie snorted but didn’t move away. Her response was delayed, but when she spoke, her eyes revealed a sorrow that was new to me.
“When we were kids, this was my dream. But now that I’ve made it, I’m not nearly as happy as I thought I’d be.”
Her voice wasn’t bitter, just … tired. Like someone who’d been chasing something for so long, they hadn’t realized they might not like what was waiting for them at the finish line.
I said nothing. Just watched her tip her head back as the wind swept under the brim of her hat and caught a few strands of hair.
“If you get everything you thought you ever wanted and still feel something’s missing, maybe it’s not the dream that was wrong. Maybe it’s the version of yourself that you had to build on your own. You’re not done yet.”
She turned her head to look at me, sunglasses still low enough that I could see the storm behind her eyes.
“Easy for you to say,” she said. “You’ve never had to do it alone.”
“That’s not true,” I replied without thinking. “You think privilege is the same thing as support. But I had every resource in the world and still screwed up every relationship that ever meant something to me.”
“And I’m supposed to feel bad for you?”
“No,” I said. And I meant it. “You’re not.
I didn’t come on this boat to make you feel bad or to beg for forgiveness.
I wanted to come out here because this is where I remembered you laughing the hardest. Where you weren’t worried about your family or your future.
Just the wind and you beating the hell out of me in a sailboat race. ”
A reluctant smile touched her lips. I was getting somewhere.
“You were so pissed,” she murmured.
“You took the trophy and made me carry your shoes back to the car.”
“That was the consolation prize,” she said.
“And I’d do it again.”