Chapter 33
Ruby
THE EARLY EVENING AIR was cool and golden when I spotted him outside Sea Glass, takeout bag in hand, hair wet from a shower. I hadn’t seen him all day, and now my heart hammered harder than Dave’s crew on a good day.
He looked annoyingly good, like someone who instinctively knew what angle the sun would hit him best.
He spotted me, too. Too late to escape. I waved, aiming for casual and breezy while every nerve inside me hummed.
By the time I walked away, knowing he’d seen through me and knew I’d acted out of jealousy the night before, and what that meant—I couldn’t even pretend at breezy anymore. Inside, I was all downpour and thunder.
I WAS THE FIRST TO get to Evangeline’s house, a bag of bakery treats, a cookie jar, and a bottle of wine from the inn clinking together in my arms.
Her place sat on one of Coral Bay’s inner streets, a row of cheerful, mismatched houses in faded pastels and earth tones. In summer, the air here smelled of sunscreen, and vacationers strolled past in flip-flops and damp swimsuits, arms full of beach towels and pool toys.
“Sure you can,” Evangeline half-whispered, answering my question just as Daphne and Rio walked in.
“What can she?” Rio asked, setting her food contribution on Eve’s living room table next to Daphne’s.
“Stay the night,” Evangeline said before I could stop her. I didn’t exactly want the others to know.
Rio shot me a glance.
“I don’t feel like being anywhere near the inn. Renovations up to here.” I waved a hand above my head. “I need silence.”
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Sure?”
“Is it okay to just be okay?” I sighed, dropping into the deep, cushioned armchair in Eve’s living room and tucking my legs under me. The house was cozy, with flower vases in at least three spots.
Rio sprawled across the sofa, Eve perched beside her, and Daphne claimed the arm of my chair.
The wine was already open, glasses scattered around the coffee table.
“Want me to bore you with all the fun Owen and I are having, or ...?” Rio smiled, entirely pleased with herself.
“So, Ruby, tell us the real reason you want to spend the night at Evangeline’s,” Daphne said, deliberately turning her head toward me, her grin saying loud and clear: No thanks, Rio, you’ve got your happily-ever-after. We’re here for shitty tea and crappy beans spillage.
Rio laughed and smack-patted Daphne’s shoulder, who didn’t even blink, just went on. “It’s Seb, right? What, too much sex? You need a night off?”
“Can there ever be too much of that?” Rio asked dreamily, the ‘C’ lingering slightly in her throat.
Evangeline elbowed her side. “Hey, some of us aren’t getting any. Have mercy.”
“I wasn’t talking about me,” Rio said in mock defense. “I meant Love-’em-and-leave-’em Ruby.”
“Oh, you mean Have-fun-and-never-define Ruby?” Daphne added smoothly, swinging one foot idly, clearly enjoying herself.
“What about you, Daphne? You never tell us anything,” I said, looking up at her. She was still sitting on the arm of my chair.
“I can tell you that on my last date—which was some time ago, I admit—I had to break up a drunk and disorderly, and he was my date.”
“Oh, no!” Rio and I said together, while Evangeline recoiled in surprise, her hands flying to cover her mouth.
“Ancient history. I was too ashamed to tell you at the time. Now I’ve been dealing with ... a case, and that’s all I can say about it.” At our bewildered faces, she added, “So, Ruby. Seb?”
“He also had a date,” I muttered.
More shocked looks. “He told you?”
“Saw them.” God, it still pinched like pins on every nerve.
“What did you do?” Eve asked, hazel eyes wide.
“What do you mean? Nothing. We’re not a couple.”
Silence. Even after all these years, I could still shock them.
“Wait a minute,” Rio said, dragging the last word out like she’d just caught me in a lie.
She’d known me the longest, and right now I wished she didn’t.
“You had sex with him when he came back from the date, didn’t you?
” An incredulous grin spread across her face like she’d just solved a riddle.
“A possessive, mind-blowing sex.” Her expression screamed, you little minx.
“Of course. That’s what we do.” I kept my tone casual, leaving out the part about how we’d avoided each other for three days before that, and that she was exactly right.
“Ruby, come on. We weren’t born yesterday.” Rio reached over from the sofa and flicked my knee with her fingers.
Evangeline looked between us, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. Daphne leaned back on her hands like she was settling in for a show.
“What other motive could I have?” I asked.
“To remind him who’s who and what’s what,” Rio said, giving me a sharp look.
“If you mentioned his date to us, that means it bothers you,” Daphne said, her voice carrying the finality of a zipper sealing an evidence bag.
She was right, of course. It was my call for help, even though I now acted as if they were butting in. But they knew me well enough to know that even if I seemed to resist their advice, analysis, and help—I was asking for it, welcoming it.
Especially when I tried to explain. “It’s not like ... you don’t ... you guys ... I ...”
“We found the one thing you stammer on,” Rio said with a sympathetic little smile.
She would know—both about stammering and my usual quick tongue and my current state.
“Maybe you were just trying to put things back the way you like them,” Evangeline said slowly, her eyes narrowing like she was looking inward rather than at me.
“Because you know you’re losing your emotional safety.
If he went on a date, then maybe he’s ready for something serious, maybe with someone else, and that could change what you two have. ”
We all looked at her.
“What? I took courses in psychology,” she said with a shrug. “You’re defensive, Ruby, trying to hold your world together. It’s okay. You can admit that to us.”
“What Evangeline is trying to say, Ruby, is: use your words,” Daphne said.
I scoffed and bopped her with a pillow. “He’s leaving soon. His part is nearly done. Everything will go back to normal.” Another thing they didn’t need to know was that I’d promised myself that night with Sebastian would be the last. Just in case I couldn’t keep that promise.
“It’s harder to be emotionally known than physically admired,” Daphne said, her tone pensive, her eyes on the wine in her glass.
Now we all stared at her.
“What? I took the same course.” She chuckled, then added, “No, seriously. Ruby, we love you, but you’ve gotten used to keeping your relationships physical.
And this guy—now that he’s here all the time instead of dropping by for booty calls and casual dinner or movie fun—he knows you.
Even the parts you think you lost or left behind.
And you’re scared. Because having him see all that .
.. and yet, he still wants you, still being there for you, and that’s a big deal.
And you don’t want a big deal. Big deals have big costs. ”
“Daph,” Evangeline said. “Wow.”
Yes, wow. But it wasn’t just that. Sebastian had me now in small, manageable doses—why risk more? If he had more of me like he thought he wanted, he’d be singing a different tune.
Daphne let out a quiet huff of a smile, her face twitching just a bit.
She was always the tough, unshakable one, but right now, the cloud that had hovered over her lately showed through.
She pressed her lips together before speaking.
“I ... we sometimes have to go to mandatory therapy sessions for work. I’m . .. It teaches you things.”
Evangeline reached out, resting her hand on Daphne’s arm. “We’re here for you. You know that, right?”
“I know, sweetie. You’re the best.” Daphne never used pet names, but Evangeline had a way of pulling out everyone’s softer side.
Rio reached for the wine bottle on the coffee table and refilled her glass, lightening the mood with the small, ordinary gesture. She took a sip, then said, “You already know what I think, Ruby.”
Yeah, I did. What she’d said that day on the beach starred in my what-ifs.
“Maybe that’s why you’re feelings-phobic, Rub. What Daphne said,” Rio added.
“I’m not feelings-phobic. I feel all my feelings. And you don’t want to know what I’m feeling about you now,” I shot back with a laugh. It was the kind of thing I could say only to Rio—years of being best friends let me get away with more bluntness than with anyone else.
“Ruby is not feelings-phobic. She’s heartache-phobic,” Evangeline said, her big brown eyes fixed on me.
There was another silent pause, but Eve’s mic drop echoed in the room.
“Damn, you two are on fire today,” Rio said a moment later, and we all cracked up.
“It’s like with musicians or poets—you need pain to get your best work. Once they’re rich and comfortable, their art loses its edge. You’re cloud-nine happy, Rio. You’re like a rich, comfortable musician.”
That got another round of laughter.
We all laughed. But damn, they were spot on. And yes, I was probably heartache-phobic.
Born out of old scars I’d carried for so long, that I couldn’t even remember which cut had been made first. Maybe it wasn’t a cut, just the same nerves rubbed raw over and over until the wound became permanent—that deep belief that I wasn’t enough to be truly chosen.
At least not for long, not everlastingly.
At first, it was my looks. As a teen, looks and fitting in go hand in hand. Then it was my dad leaving, and that became about my personality—I was too loud, too blunt, too opinionated. Too much of the wrong things and not enough of the right ones.
So even if someone did choose me, I didn’t believe it would last. After all, my own father—the one man who was supposed to—hadn’t wanted me forever. At some point, once the shine wore off, they’d realize I wasn’t what they wanted.
Keeping things light and temporary was safer.
If I never stayed, no one could leave me.
If I never offered my heart, no one could stomp on it.
If I never let my happiness rely on someone else, no one could blindside me and rip it away.
Freedom was safer. It had to be.