Roxie #2
The anger had masked it all. Prevented us both from coming to our senses and seeing the error of our judgment.
His hand tightened gently on my waist, steadying me.
“I wonder where we’d be if we hadn’t—” he trailed off, like the rest of the sentence was too dangerous.
“I’m not sure,” I admitted.
I’d thought about who I’d be if I still had access to my family’s fortune. If I still had a backup plan, a safety net to catch me if I ever fell. I wasn’t sure I’d have learned to work as hard as I’ve had to. Nor would I be as proud of what I’ve earned.
“But I do believe everything happens for a reason and all those lessons I had to learn turned me into a better person.”
Sebastian was quiet for a moment, taking in everything I said. Maybe even agreeing with me, though he’d never say it out loud.
“I don’t think you needed to be better,” he said at last. “You were already the best thing in that whole town.”
I blinked up at him, my breath catching.
“Seb—”
“I’m not trying to charm you, Roxie.” His tone was softer than usual, almost rough around the edges. “I’m just saying … I used to think we’d take on the world together. Like none of the bullshit could touch us. Not your family, not mine. But I was a coward.”
The words hung between us like something fragile. I didn’t respond immediately. I didn’t know how to.
He looked down, shaking his head with a self-deprecating smile. “You left. I stayed. And I let you believe I didn’t care. I let you believe you meant less than you did.”
My throat tightened. “You didn’t exactly correct the narrative.”
“I know.” His eyes met mine again. “I was angry. And scared. And I took the easy way out. Like I always do.”
I didn’t pull away, even though I could feel my defenses scrambling to reassemble. It was an instinct to protect myself. But I didn’t want to be that girl tonight. The one who kept holding onto the version of Sebastian who let her go.
I wanted to believe he wasn’t that guy anymore.
I know we’d only been back on speaking terms for a day, but so much had happened in that time, so much truth had come out.
I was really starting to believe that he’d changed.
That I could have my best friend back. And even though I didn’t want to admit it, I was also starting to believe we could be something more.
“You really believe in second chances?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
He didn’t hesitate. “With you? Yeah. I do.”
A beat passed. Then another. The music shifted again, the melody wrapping around us like a warm tide.
I leaned in, just slightly, resting my forehead against his chest. “Then don’t screw it up.”
I felt his breath hitch against the top of my head, followed by the faintest trace of a smile pressed into my hair. His arms wrapped around me, and I felt safe. Secure.
“I’m going to try not to,” he said. “But you have to promise to stop pretending you hate my guts every time I open my mouth.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “No promises. You say a lot of stupid shit.”
Sebastian laughed, the sound rumbling against the top of my head. It made me forget all the reasons I’d kept him at arm’s length. All the walls I’d spent years building back up after I left.
Then I felt his fingers at my jaw—gentle, tentative—tilting my face up to his. The space between us shrank to almost nothing. His breath mingled with mine, his lips just inches away. And in that moment, everything inside me tensed.
He hesitated, waiting. Giving me time. A choice.
I wanted to kiss him. God, I wanted to fall into it, into him, into the way he was looking at me like I was the only thing that had ever mattered. But something inside me clenched with uncertainty. My heart stuttered.
I pulled back.
Just a small step. But it was enough. Enough to break whatever spell had been cast over us.
Sebastian’s hand dropped from my jaw slowly, his face shuttering just a fraction. But he didn’t step away or ask why. Just gave a nod so slight I almost missed it.
I reached up, brushing imaginary sand from my cheek, trying to mask the awkwardness threading between us.
“Still not that girl?” he asked, a crooked smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, but his eyes were soft, understanding.
“Not tonight,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
He studied me for a beat longer, then tipped his head toward the crashing waves beyond the bonfire. “Alright. Then let’s do something else instead.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Like what?”
A slow, dangerous grin spread across his face. “Skinny dip. Right now. Ocean’s calling.”
I blinked at him. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Definitely,” he said. “But you knew that about me already.”
He was already shrugging off his button-down. “Come on, Rox. It’s tradition. Summer. Bonfire. Skinny dip. Don’t tell me you’ve gotten too boring to jump in.”
“You are so—”
“Charming? Daring? Handsome?” He tossed the shirt over a log and kicked off his shoes.
“Infuriating,” I finished, trying not to let my eyes drop to his bare chest. Failing.
He backed toward the water, walking backward across the sand with a boyish glint in his eyes. “Are you coming, or do I have to do this alone?”
Then I rolled my eyes, kicked off my sandals, and started after him. There was no way I was letting him win.
“Last one in owes the other a kiss,” he called over his shoulder.
“Not how dares work, Whittaker!”
“You don’t make the rules, Rox. A dare’s a dare.”
And then he ran—laughter floating in the air after him. The two of us sprinted as fast as we could toward the water. Right past James and Hallie who were staring at us with their mouths slack-jawed.
And just like that, I really did feel like we were seventeen again.