Chapter 10
Unknown Number
Saturday mornings were Jaxon’s ritual. His version of church. Mowing the lawn with no shirt, earbuds in, sweat running down his spine as the world faded into the hum of blades and the rhythmic pattern of rows.
It was his reset. His therapy. His quiet before whatever storm life threw next.
His phone was exactly where he’d left it—face down next to the sink.
He tapped it awake. Just after eleven. Still no missed calls.
One text.
Carter: Still on for 4:00 tomorrow?
Jaxon sighed and replied: Yeah, still on. Then he tossed the phone back down and headed to the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, he came back down, hair damp, shirt clean, mind still circling the same damn thought: She hasn’t called.
He walked into the kitchen—and stopped.
The screen was glowing.
His pulse jumped. He rushed over. Please let it be her.
It wasn’t.
Carter: Sounds good man. I’ll bring the usual.
Jaxon chuckled bitterly. “Dude, your timing is trash.”
He stood there for a second longer than he wanted to. Just staring at the screen. Just feeling… dumb. Like a teenage version of himself all over again—hovering, hoping.
“Get a grip, man,” he muttered. “You don’t even know this girl.”
But then—
Ding.
He turned. Froze. Walked back to the counter and picked up his phone.
1 New Message
From: Unknown Number (470): Where are you headed?
The grin that exploded across Jaxon’s face could’ve powered a city.
Claire.
Saying the same bullshit she said at the airport.
He didn’t even have to think—his fingers moved on instinct.
Jaxon: I’m heading to the place where the tide meets the sand.
Claire sat on her towel, sunglasses pushed up, phone in hand. Her thumb hovered for a second before finally hitting send.
She immediately regretted not calling.
What if he’s busy? What if he forgot me? What if he doesn’t recognize the number? What if I sound desperate?
When her phone buzzed, she opened the reply with her heart halfway up her throat.
“Where the tide meets the sand”?
She stared at it, confused. The entire beach was a tide meeting sand. Was that poetic or just vague? Was he being mysterious or…
Sara interrupted her thoughts by slapping a wet towel across Macie’s legs and laughing hysterically. Chaos.
Claire turned back to her phone and typed: & where would that be?
The reply came fast.
Jaxon: Let me show you. Dinner tonight at 7:00?
Her stomach flipped. She didn’t hesitate this time.
Claire: 7:00 is fine. Let me know where, and I can meet you there.
Seconds later, a dropped pin came through with a text:
Jaxon: Here’s the address. I’ll see you then.
Claire sat still for a beat. Heart racing. Heat rising. It wasn’t just the sun anymore.
An hour later, the girls packed up their towels and umbrella like a band of sunburned warriors preparing for the speed-walk of their lives.
“Why does the sand feel hotter now?” Taylor whined.
“It’s scientifically proven that it gets hotter the closer you are to heatstroke,” Macie deadpanned, jogging past everyone.
Claire was already halfway to the golf cart. “Let’s go!”
“Damn Claire, give us a second to climb in!” Macie shouted.
“Sorry,” Claire laughed. “Hold on tight.”
Once they got back to the house, the group fell into the kitchen like they’d just crossed a desert. Macie and Sara immediately attacked the fridge like it owed them money.
“I need a snack and a nap,” said Sara, opening a bag of chips like it was an emergency ration.
“Claire,” Taylor called over her shoulder, “you and Sara have been here more than us. Where should we eat tonight?”
Claire casually leaned against the counter. “Well… it depends on what you want.”
“What does that mean?” Macie asked, mouth full. “Where are you going to be?”
Claire didn’t say anything for a second. Then, with a too-sweet smile, she dropped the bomb.
“Not that it’s anyone’s business… but I have dinner plans with Jaxon tonight.”
The room went silent.
Sara’s chip stopped mid-air. “I’m sorry—what?”
Macie gasped like someone spoiled the ending of her favorite show. “WHEN were you going to say something?!”
Taylor spun around. “Since when did we start keeping secrets?!”
Claire laughed and threw up her hands. “Whoa, whoa—y’all went from hungry to hostile real fast.”
Sara leaned across the island. “When did you talk to him? What did he say? WHERE is he taking you?”
Claire shook her head, holding in a grin. “I texted him while we were on the beach. He asked me to dinner at 7. Sent me an address. That’s it. That’s all I know.”
Macie snatched her phone. “Let’s look it up.”
Sara leaned in. “What kind of restaurant is it?”
“There’s no website,” Macie said, squinting. “But it looks like… a private venue? Fancy as hell. Like secret-lanterns-and-wine-glasses kind of vibes.”
Claire grabbed her phone back. “Well, I’m excited either way. And I’ll have y’all drop me off before you head to dinner.”
“Oh, this is getting serious,” Sara said, shaking her head.
Claire just smiled.
Because for the first time in a long time…
She wanted it to be.