Chapter One #2
“Come on. Best case scenario, you spend the rest of our trip hanging out with a hot guy. And worst case…I don’t know, you get herpes.”
“Emmy! Seriously? Why are you like this?”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Kidding. About the herpes part anyway. Not about the rebound.”
I stare at my best friend, the hot-pink-bikini-wearing, mermaid-haired goddess that she is, and sigh.
“Come on,” she says. “There are tons of cute guys here. I’m on vacay boyfriend number three. One for each day of the trip.”
She doesn’t have to tell me that. In between spa treatments and tacos, I’ve had to watch each of them drool over her while she sunbathes.
Emmy has two modes when it comes to boys: All Boys Are Disposable and My Boyfriend Can Do No Wrong.
She’s in the first mode ninety-nine percent of the time, going through boys like gum that loses its flavor too fast. And then, there’s the other one—also known as my personal nightmare.
Every once in a while, Emmy attaches to one boy in particular, and it’s like she becomes another person entirely.
One who makes excuses for bad behavior in the name of “love.”
Thankfully the resort has been full of the “disposable” kind.
I stand and put my hands on her shoulders. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Oh fine! You’re a real stick in the mud, you know that?”
I smile. “And you’re the human equivalent of a golden retriever, but I love you anyway. There’s no one else I’d rather be here with.”
Emmy grins and drags me away from the loungers. “Come on, let’s go swimming. My soul craves the ocean, and I must heed the call!”
Like I said, mermaid.
We run down to the water, our feet sinking into the warm sand.
There’s only a handful of people on the beach.
We have this whole section of the coast to ourselves.
The water washes over my new sunset red pedicure, and it’s gloriously warm.
We jump over the incoming waves and wade out to boob depth before Emmy turns to me with the biggest smile on her face.
“Can we stay here forever?” she asks.
I laugh. “I don’t think your mom and dad would be on board with that.”
“They have no sense of adventure.”
She swims on her back, riding up over waves, her hair turning white and fanning out in the brilliant blue water.
A new emotion curls my stomach, and I look away as she swims out farther.
I’m really happy for Emmy. She’s been saving every penny for three years to fund this world tour of hers, but knowing she’s leaving and her actually leaving are two very different things.
I’m not sure what my life will look like without her beside me.
Not that I’m unhappy with my chosen future. As long as Emmy’s dreamed of Seoul and Nepal, I’ve imagined myself in scrubs. The Linfield University School of Nursing is one of the best nursing programs in the state, and it was my first-choice school.
We’re both headed for what makes us happiest, but that won’t make the goodbye easier.
I slip beneath the waves, and the water tugs and twists me around before I resurface. I don’t open my eyes right away. Instead I imagine the water pouring off me into the sea, taking all my worries with it. No goodbyes. No Jackson. No new-school jitters. Just sunshine.
“You look extremely peaceful.”
I yelp and shove myself away from the unexpected voice, only to find myself staring at a pair of legs standing on the water.
My brain glitches out for a second before it makes sense of what I’m seeing.
Not legs on the water, legs standing on a paddleboard.
I shield my eyes and look up at the boy smirking down at me.
“Or you did, before I scared you. My bad,” he says.
He’s…good-looking. Like incredibly good-looking. He’s practically the male version of Emmy. Golden skin, perfect blond hair, and a smile that could melt even a seasoned pessimist like myself.
I clear my throat to say something smart and interesting—because that’s what you do when you run into hot boys on vacation—but a wave takes me out before I have the chance.
I come back up sputtering, salt water dripping out of my nose.
Hot Stuff crouches down and grabs my hand. I brace myself on the end of his board to keep my head above the water.
“You okay? That one snuck up on you.”
I shake off my embarrassment and smile at him. “Yeah, rotten luck.”
“Well, can’t be beautiful and lucky. That would be too much for one person.”
I laugh. “Nice line.”
He sits and slips his feet into the water on either side of his board as he grins at me. “It may be a line, but it’s also the truth. I’m Ben.”
He holds out his hand, and I shake it. “Hannah.”
“Very nice to meet you, Hannah. Do you need a ride back to shore?”
“No, I’m out here with a friend.” I turn and search the water for Emmy. I spot her a few hundred feet away, leisurely floating on her back. “She’s over there. I’ll head back in when she does.”
“Ah, fair enough.”
I push away from his board and try to dip my hair back into the water to clear the awkward strands from my face. “Thanks for the assist though.”
He winks at me. “No problem. Are you staying at the resort?”
“Yeah. We’re here until the end of the week.”
“Me too. I checked in last night. Maybe I’ll run into you again.”
He holds my gaze for a second too long, and Emmy’s rebound crush suggestion comes to mind. This super cute boy would probably love to hang out. What would it feel like to spend time with someone who likes me back? Who—gasp—actually talks to me?
Even as the thought crosses my mind, I know I’d be watching Jackson for a reaction the entire time. No matter how flirty or cute or seemingly available Ben may be, he’s not who I want.
I shrug and start to swim away from him. “Maybe. It’s a big resort.”
Ben throws his head back and laughs. “I see how it is. Don’t worry I like a challenge.”
A flash of blond appears beside me. I see the exact moment his focus falters and his pupils turn into little hearts. Just like that, Ben becomes vacation victim number four. Emmy’s a siren, lulling the poor boy to drown himself. It’s hysterically predictable.
“And who do we have here?” she asks, gliding effortlessly through the water to his paddleboard. She folds her arms across the top and rests her chin on them.
“I’m…Bennett Mulholland.”
One, I don’t know why he paused. Did he forget his name?
And two, why did he give me the nickname and Emmy the long version?
Still, I’m struck by how much he looks like a Bennett.
“Ben” might casually attend a resort. “Bennett Mulholland” sounds like someone who might own it, and the fact that he presented himself like this to Emmy seems to indicate he wants to be perceived as such.
“Emelia Cole. But you can call me Emmy. Only my parents call me Emelia. Mostly when I piss them off.”
Ben-Bennett throws his head back and laughs. “Want me to teach you how to paddleboard, Emmy? It’s a blast.”
“I’d love to! I’ve always wanted to learn.”
I tell them to have a great time and that I’ll meet Emmy back at the room later.
There’s an audiobook that’s calling my name.
She waves me off, never breaking eye contact with her newest flirtation, and I turn to swim ashore.
I should probably feel a little put off that Ben was all about impressing me until Emmy came along, but I can’t bring myself to care.
Let Emmy have all the boys in Puerto Vallarta.
I only care about the one who doesn’t want me.
God, I need therapy.
My feet finally touch sand, and I wring out my hair and shake water from the ends as I wade in. I’m about waist-deep when I look up and lock eyes with Jackson. He’s standing on the shore, toes at the water’s edge, his book tucked beneath his arm. Still shirtless. Still gorgeous.
Only now, he’s staring right at me.
I freeze. The shallows stretch out in front of me, separating us by a good twenty feet, but the entirety of my attention is on him and the serious expression on his face.
I blink as memories better left buried fill my mind.
Falling Christmas lights. Hands wrapped around a warm mug.
A bored face beneath a tree on a street corner.
A familiar flash of anger settles like a rock in my gut.
His mouth forms the shape of my name, but the sound is carried off in the wind.
Why did he look up from his stupid book now?
Did he see me talking to Ben and suddenly grow a—
A wall of water slams into my back, and I’m thrown forward.
The wave knocks me off my feet, sucks me under, and spins me around like a pillow in a washing machine.
Water rushes up my nose and burns through my sinuses.
The wave regurgitates me out of the ocean, and I land face down in the wet sand, coughing up salt water as froth collects around me.
I hear the ghost of Emmy’s laughter somewhere behind me, and I will the beach to open up and swallow me alive. But no such luck. I push back on my knees and spit granules of sand from my teeth. My hair hangs in a salty mess down my face, and when I glance up, Jackson is crouched in front of me.
His mouth is pinched, but humor dances in his hazel eyes like he’s desperately holding back a laugh. “You okay? Not gonna lie, you look like the lady from The Grudge.”
I sigh. Of course.
He holds out a hand to help me up, and I stare at it for a full ten seconds before he lets it drop, the humor vanishing from his face. I climb to my feet, and he does too, pointing at the surf.
“You shouldn’t turn your back on the ocean. It’s as unpredictable as my sister.”
And with that, he does something the opposite of unpredictable, and walks away.
Because that’s what Jackson Cole does best.