Lance opens a drawer and gives me a handful of forked metal sticks with wooden handles. I follow the girls outside where everyone’s seated and talking around the fire. Kaden’s nowhere to be seen.
I slept the best sleep in forever. It probably helped that I was exhausted and sated, wrapped in Grant’s arms after sneaking away to be alone while everyone was still outside, drinking and listening to music by the fire. It made falling asleep easy, my head resting on the crook of his bare shoulder, his arms bracing me to him with our legs curled around the other’s.
And it also didn’t hurt to wake up with him enveloping me in a big spoon, skin to skin, when the sun rose this morning. The thin curtains did little to filter the rays as they shone above the water. We take our time getting out of the bed.
“I could get used to this,” I murmur against his lips, sweat prickling along my back, my breath still recovering.
Grant kisses me in reply, gripping my hips when I wiggle against him, a low moan rumbling in the back of his throat.
“We should get up,” he says when we part but doesn’t make a move to do so. Instead, he rolls me onto my back, a laugh erupting from me at the sudden move. His warm hand skims the length of my side. “Or … not just yet.”
Arden is the only one in the kitchen when we finally make it out of the bedroom, grinning like idiots. She inspects us out of the corner of her eye as she dips her tea ball in a cup. “Ocean air agrees with you.”
“Or something,” I say, biting my lip to keep the smile from taking over my entire face. “How’d you sleep?”
“Fantastic. I love the sound of the surf; it’s so soothing. Parker’s room looks out over the ocean. It’s breathtaking.”
“Uh, Parker’s room?” I ask, questioning what I missed last night after we snuck away.
“He’s staying in the pool house with Isaac,” she explains. “Joey and Lance are sharing a room. Lincoln and Sawyer took one of the guest rooms. Lily and Kaely are in the other. The couch was the only other choice, so Parker was nice enough to let me stay in his room.” She leans in as if we may be overheard. “I think they were going to use Kaden’s house when they planned this and weren’t expecting to run out of beds.”
“Do you know why he’s here?” I ask, still whispering.
She shrugs.
“Are you hungry?” Grant asks, inspecting the fridge.
Ashton saunters in, wearing a guy’s T-shirt that hangs off her shoulder, short-shorts and severe bedhead. But it looks sexy and not devastating on her. Then again, it’s probably sex hair. A shudder runs through me.
“I’m starving. What are you cooking?”
“Not cooking,” Grant clarifies. “I can work a toaster and microwave without the help of recipes.”
“Let’s go out for breakfast,” Arden suggests. “There are so many cute restaurants on the island. But we should probably call ahead with this many people.”
“I’ll cook,” Brendan says, stretching his arms and yawning, his hair just as messy as Ashton’s, which is so out of character for him — it’s disarming.
“You cook?” I question, wondering who this person is.
“I have many talents.”
“Many,” Ashton hums.
“Stop!” I holler, covering my ears, making everyone in the kitchen laugh.
“Want to go for a walk on the beach with me while the men cook and toast stuff?” Ashton asks, taking my hand, not caring that we’re both technically in sleepwear.
“Sure,” I reply. I don’t have much of a choice since she’s already pulling me halfway out the sliding door leading to the patio.
The air is cool and salty, a breeze rushing in from the water. We each grab a blanket that was abandoned on the chairs around the firepit last night and wrap them around our shoulders.
We walk across the lawn to a set of wooden stairs that connects a zigzag of landings, eventually ending at the beach. Sea grass is trapped behind beach fencing along the steep dunes.
“How’d you sleep? Or did you?” Ashton asks with a teasing grin.
“Best sleep I’ve had in a long time,” I confess.
“Me too.” She smiles again, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “It’s been hard.”
I nod, not finding the words to comfort her. We haven’t really spoken about what happened since we opened the shoebox. Instead, we distracted ourselves with the start of classes and giving statements to the police, school administrators and lawyers. This is the first time we’ve been able to breathe … to process all that happened two weeks ago.
“I wish … I’d been a better friend to her.” Ashton gazes out at the water, but she’s focused a million miles away. “I didn’t know she was in trouble—with Vic or the pills. I mean, I knew she used them. We all do or have. But I thought she had it under control. She was always in control.”
“Or fighting for it,” I offer softly. “I didn’t see it either, not until it was too late. When I think back, I recognize so many moments I should have …” My voice trails off. I’m unable to finish with the lump lodged in my throat. The glare of the sun and the sweeping wind off the water intensify the shimmer of tears threatening to fall.
Ashton wraps an arm around me. “I promise to be a better friend to you. I’ll never hesitate to call you out on your shit. But I’ll always accept who you are, no matter your choices.”
We sit on the sand, bundled up in the blankets, holding on to the other’s arm.
“I won’t let you get lost,” I tell her. “Not to the drugs or a stupid guy.”
“You mean, Brendan,” she interrupts.
“Whoever,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “I’ll always find you.”
We sit there until we’re shivering and Ashton’s stomach rumbles louder than the waves.
The entire group spends the day on the beach after the sun is higher in the sky, burning off the morning’s chill. The Harrison brothers arranged for a clambake, which is a much bigger production than just throwing burgers on a grill. The caterer rolls in around noontime to dig a pit on the beach, where they lay seaweed and hot coals to cook everything on top of it. It’s the craziest thing I’ve ever seen.
I just stare at the lobster when it’s set in front of me, not sure what to do with it or if I want anything to do with it. Grant helps crack it, which is messy and disgusting. And then I let him eat it, opting for a filet of steak instead. I’ve come to terms with the fact that I do not like seafood, no matter what I try.
There is laughter in the air as we throw the football on the beach and chase after one another. No matter what we may or may not feel about each other, in this moment, on this day, we’re friends. We’re connected in complicated and twisted ways, but this one truth is simple: we care about each other and have proven it many times over the past couple of months.
We pose in an eerily similar group photo, on the beach instead of the lawn. Except no one’s pregnant in this one … hopefully.
While the caterer is packing up their equipment, the girls disappear to shower the saltwater and sand off, and the guys sit around the pool, drinking beers or soda. I slip away toward the much smaller and older house farther down the drive. I take a breath before I knock, not sure what I’m doing but knowing I have to do it. I haven’t really thought this part through, although I’ve been obsessing over it.