Chapter 8 #5
And the stupidest thought creeps in.
I wish Sean felt like that about me.
I wish someone looked at me like that.
Like I was theirs.
Like losing me would burn.
Maybe it wasn’t even about Ethan.
Not really.
It was the way he showed up.
The way he claimed her.
Like she mattered that much.
Like she was worth fighting over.
And part of me wishing a man like him would feel all that for me.
I’m jealous.
I hug my knees, staring up at the stars.
“Get it together,” I mutter.
Because let’s be real.
Ethan is also just… ridiculously hot. And I never tried to go for him.
I take another sip, half laughing at myself.
Then—
The back door slams open.
Voices.
Loud.
Angry.
I freeze.
Ethan.
Sage.
They don’t see me.
They’re too busy with each other.
He’s pacing. Running a hand through his hair. Taut like a wire pulled too tight.
“How could you do that to me?” he snaps. “In front of everyone?”
“Do what?” Sage shoots back.
“Embarrass me like that.”
“I was dancing,” she says, throwing her hands up. “God, Ethan.”
“With some guy’s hands all over you?”
“I was trying to be a good friend to Beth!” she fires back. “Isn’t that what you wanted? You wanted me to be friends with her.”
My stomach drops.
Oh God.
“You really like her,” Sage adds, sharper now. “Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?”
My heart slams so hard I swear they can hear it.
There’s a long beat.
Then Ethan sighs.
“Sage… baby,” he says, softer. “You know it’s not like that. Beth’s a good friend. She’s like a little sister. Come on. She’s not you.”
It shouldn’t hurt.
I already knew that.
I’ve always known that.
But hearing it—
Hearing him say it so easily—
It feels like someone quietly stepping on my chest.
Little sister.
Cool. Awesome. Great.
I stare down at my drink so they don’t see my face even though they can’t see me anyway.
Stupid.
Why did I even care?
“She got stood up,” Sage says. “Sean ghosted her. I was trying to make sure she had a good night. I actually like her, Ethan. I do. I’m not threatened.”
My throat tightens.
“You didn’t have to grind on some guy to do that,” he mutters.
She steps closer to him.
Even from the shadows, I can see it.
The shift.
The way she softens.
Tilts her head.
Touches his chest.
Her voice goes low and sweet and dangerous all at once.
“You jealous, baby?”
It’s like watching a spell being cast.
She doesn’t yell.
She doesn’t fight.
She just… leans in.
And Ethan melts.
Like gravity flipped.
His jaw tics.
His shoulders tense.
His hands fist like he’s trying not to touch her.
And then he does.
He pulls her in.
Sudden. Rough. Desperate.
They kiss like they’re still arguing.
Like it’s part fight, part fire.
Like all that anger just turned into something hotter.
I shouldn’t watch.
I really shouldn’t.
But I can’t move.
I feel like a ghost in the corner.
A voyeur.
Their silhouettes tangle against the brick wall. His hands at her waist. Hers in his hair. Breaths heavy and messy and alive. Tongues dueling. Hearts racing. She bites him.
Her nails dig into his arms.
He responds by hauling her up in his arms, her back still against the wall. There’s not a lick of space between them. Her legs wrap around his waist.
“I hat that you do this to me,” he grates out.
“I make you fucking , crazy?” She still teases.
“Insane.” He groans as his mouth finds the crook of her neck.
“Good. Don’t forget it. And next time never bring me somewhere where another girl has tasted you.”
“So, this really about Kate? This whole night? That guy—that stunt you pulled not so much about helping Beth?”
Her grin is sly. So beautiful I see the hint of evil in it.
“Maybe.”
“I hate you.”
“You love this. How I make you feel. So alive. That it burns.”
He grinds against her now. Hands in her hair as he takes her mouth with an angry passion.
It’s not sweet.
It’s not gentle.
It’s magnetic.
And my body reacts before my brain can stop it.
Heat.
Low. Dangerous.
My pulse racing.
My stomach flipping.
It’s awful.
It’s embarrassing.
It’s everything.
Because it’s messy and real and raw and wanted.
And God help me—
I want that.
Not Ethan.
Not specifically.
Just—
That.
That kind of hunger.
That kind of heat.
That kind of can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other energy.
I press my back into the bench, gripping my drink like a lifeline, praying they don’t turn around and catch me sitting here like some creep. My own nipples harden. My thighs tingle.
It’s been way too long since I had good, hot sex.
I just stay still.
Silent.
Dying.
Trapped in the shadows.
Watching.
While my heart breaks a little and races a little and does things it absolutely has no business doing.
And I realize this night is officially too much.
Way too much.
They finally break apart when someone whistles.
“Yo! You guys gonna find a room or what?”
A couple smokers laugh.
Then a bouncer steps out the back door, hands up like he’s diffusing a hostage situation. “Whoa, whoa—guys. You’re giving our security guy a heart attack out here.”
He points up.
There’s a camera mounted under the eave.
Red light blinking.
Ethan and Sage both freeze.
For half a second they look like kids caught stealing.
Then Sage just… giggles.
Actually giggles.
“Whoops,” she says, fixing her lipstick with her thumb. “Tell him to erase the tape or I’m charging him admission.”
A few people crack up.
Just like that, the tension breaks.
Like she snapped her fingers and changed the channel.
She smooths her hair, rolls her shoulders back, adjusts her dress like nothing happened, and then—
God.
She sashays.
Like a runway model.
Back toward the door.
Every head on the patio turns.
Even Tony’s. I didn’t even realize he was outside. When my eyes were only focused on them. Through the white painted lattice side of the pergola and twisted trumpet flowers, I continue to watch the scene play out.
Ethan’s mouth literally hangs open.
“I just—” he mutters to nobody, staring after her, “I just need a minute. You can understand.”
The guys laugh.
Ethan doesn’t.
He looks wrecked.
Hands shoved deep in his pockets like he’s physically restraining himself. Jaw tight. Eyes dark. Still buzzing with leftover adrenaline.
He runs a hand through his hair and mutters something under his breath.
Then he follows her inside.
Gone.
Just like that.
I stay hidden.
Heart still racing.
Thirty seconds.
Maybe more.
I count to be safe.
Then I ease out from behind the pergola, brushing dirt off my dress like that’ll erase the last five minutes from my brain.
I take two steps—
“Catch the whole show?”
I jump out of my skin.
Tony.
Busted.
Leaning against the railing with a cigarette, watching me with that lazy, knowing smirk.
“I—” My face burns. “I wasn’t trying to watch. I didn’t know what to do.”
He laughs softly. “Yeah. I know. They didn’t see you.”
My stomach drops. “You did?”
“Saw you the whole time. Your hot pink toenails in that wedged heel. For a second I thought Sage had a twin sister. And I was going to have to go get holy water and a crucifix.”
“Great. Awesome. Love that for me. She insisted.” I gesture toward my pink polish and borrowed shoes. “I just needed a minute alone and then they were out here. Screaming at each other.”
He snorts smoke out through his nose. “Relax. We’re all trying to avoid that shit show. I won’t say a word.”
I blink. “It was definitely a moment.”
He takes a slow sip from the glass in his other hand. Scotch, probably.
“They do this. A lot.”
“What?”
“The nights you don’t come out with us? When you’ve got a ‘headache’ or you’re trying to catch Sean between shifts?”
He shrugs.
“This is what they do.”
I stare at him.
“She flirts,” he continues, ticking it off on his fingers. “Makes him jealous. Pretends it’s nothing. Gaslights him. Big fight. Big make out. Then they disappear for the rest of the night.”
He blows a few lazy smoke rings toward the harbor.
“Rinse. Repeat.”
My stomach twists.
“That’s not a relationship,” I say quietly. “That’s… baiting. That’s crazy.”
“Yeah,” he says. “I know.”
“Does Ethan know?”
Tony huffs a laugh. “You ever try telling a guy he’s hooked on crazy-hot?”
Fair.
“She’s got her hooks in deep,” he adds. “But I see through it.”
I look at him. “What do you mean?”
He studies the cigarette for a second, then holds it out to me.
“Want one?”
I hesitate.
Then take it.
The smoke scratches my throat, but it steadies my hands.
“Means,” he says, watching the water, “she keeps him off balance on purpose. Jealous. Defensive. Always chasing her. Makes him feel like he’s about to lose her so he never stops wanting her.”
I swallow.
“That’s not love.”
“Nope.”
“Then why does he stay?”
Tony glances at me sideways.
“You saw them, right?”
My face heats.
“Yeah,” he says. “That.”
I don’t argue.
Because he’s not wrong.
I saw it.
The heat. The gravity. The can’t-look-away intensity.
It wasn’t healthy.
It wasn’t stable.
But it was magnetic.
And that scares me more than anything.
I stare out at the dark harbor, cigarette glowing between my fingers, and hate the tiny, traitorous part of me that whispers—
God, I wish someone wanted me like that.
Even if it burned.
Even if it wrecked me.
Even if it wasn’t real.
And that might be the most dangerous thought of all.
By the time we finish the cigarettes, the night air feels cooler.
Calmer.
Like the harbor’s trying to rinse the last hour out of my bloodstream.
Tony crushes the butt under his shoe and jerks his chin toward the door. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
I follow him back inside like he’s a bodyguard.
Or a big brother.
Or maybe just the only person tonight who feels… safe.
The bar is louder now. Sweaty. Sticky. Packed shoulder to shoulder.
The band’s deep into a cover set. Drums rattling the windows. Bass thumping in my ribs.
And there they are.
Sage and Ethan.
Like nothing happened.
Or like everything happened.
They’re still orbiting each other—fighting, kissing, dancing, arguing mid-song, laughing too loud. It’s dizzying just watching them.
Ethan’s cheeks are flushed red. His skin tight. Eyes darker than usual.
Still pissed.
Still wired.
Still wrapped around her like gravity.
And Sage—
God.
She’s glowing.
Laughing with the lead singer. Tossing her hair. Letting guys buy her drinks. Touching arms. Smiling like every man in the room belongs to her.
But now that I’m really watching?
It clicks.
She’s not trying to get Ethan’s attention.
She already has it.
She’s showing him something else.
Look how wanted I am.
Look how easy it would be to lose me.
If you screw up, I’m gone.
It’s not flirting.
It’s leverage.
And suddenly it makes my stomach turn.
Because Ethan—
Ethan is good.
Steady. Loyal. Protective.
The kind of guy who fixes things and shows up and remembers birthdays.
And she’s got him jumping through hoops like a trained dog.
I feel this weird rush of disgust.
Not jealousy.
Not anymore.
Just…
Disappointed.
Like watching a really smart friend fall for the world’s most obvious con.
Tony nudges me. “You good?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I think I just… needed a different vibe tonight.”
He grins. “Welcome to my vibe. We stand in corners and judge everyone.”
I laugh.
And we do.
We hang near the wall. Talk crap. Sip drinks. Commentate like it’s a reality show.
Mark and the Boston guys are already chatting up a group of girls near the bar.
Kate and Kristen disappeared ages ago.
“They’re fine,” Tony says. “They’re professionals.”
“Professionals at what?”
“Poor decisions.”
I snort.
It’s easy with him.
No pressure. No weird energy. No feeling like I’m on display.
Just… breathing.
At some point I realize it’s late. My feet hurt. My buzz has faded into a soft headache.
“Hey,” I say. “Thanks. For, you know… being cool.”
Tony shrugs. “Anytime.”
“I think I’m gonna crash on the boat. There’s not enough beds at the house anyway.”
He nods immediately. “Yeah. When you’re ready, I’ll walk you back.”
And he does.
The harbor is quieter now. Boats clinking softly against their slips. Water slapping wood in slow, sleepy rhythms.
It’s stupid, because Plymouth’s basically the safest place on earth, but walking beside Tony feels like having an escort through enemy territory anyway.
Like nothing bad could happen.
“Call if you need anything,” he says when we reach Artemis.
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He waits until I’m actually on deck before heading back.
The boat smells like salt and rope and sun-baked wood.
Home.
I shower again, scrubbing off the makeup and hairspray and Sage’s lotion and the whole night.
My real face stares back at me in the mirror.
Smaller.
Quieter.
More me.
I change into sweats and grab a blanket and pillow.
There’s a hammock strung across the bow.
I crawl into it like a cocoon.
The water rocks gently beneath me. The stars are stupid bright out here. The air’s cooler than I expect, even in summer.
I wrap the blanket tighter around myself.
Phone in hand.
I stare at Sean’s name for a long time before I hit call.
It rings.
Straight to voicemail.
Of course.
I hang up.
Call again.
Voicemail.
I swallow and leave one anyway.
“Hey… it’s me. Just… checking in. We made it to Plymouth. Um. Call me when you can.”
I hate how small my voice sounds.
I hang up.
Set the phone on my chest.
The boat creaks softly around me. Water laps. Somewhere in the distance, someone laughs.
I’m surrounded by people.
Friends.
Music.
Life.
And somehow—
I still feel lonely.
Not empty.
Just… untethered.
Like everyone else is paired off and orbiting someone and I’m just floating.
I stare up at the stars until they blur.
Thinking about Sean.
Thinking about Ethan.
Thinking about what love is supposed to feel like.
Thinking about how I don’t think I’ve ever actually had it.
The hammock sways.
My eyes get heavy.
And somewhere between one breath and the next—
I fall asleep feeling warm and safe and completely, inexplicably lost.