Idon’t realize how tired I am until my feet hit solid ground again. It’s not a bad tired. I’m not drained or hollowed out or anything. Just worn out from a day in the sun, and my skin is itchy from the saltwater.
“God, I needed that,” Camila groans, stretching her arms over her head.
“You say that every time,” Hattie teases.
“And I mean it every time. Seriously, Hattie. I’m glad we’re friends, because Ineedsomeone who will pull me out to do things.”
Mateo snorts beside her. “Yeah, otherwise you’ll just rot away on the couch reading all those romance novels.”
“Hey, first of all, it’s calledediting.I get paid to read those novels. And second, that isnota bad way to die. I think I have like a hundred book boyfriends now.”
A laugh escapes me. Maybe fictional men are easier.
Korie shuffles their feet next to me, clearly just as tired as I am. Their bleached hair is sun-tousled, and the tips of their ears have turned bright red. It makes me chuckle. They always forget sunscreen on their ears—always.
We drag our feet to our vehicles, then load everything into the trunk before walking to the restaurant. It’s far enough away that I’m tempted to ask if we can just drive there, but the group is already moving so I suck it up and join them.
The path is worn smooth from heavy traffic over the years, and large palm trees sway in the breeze. The shade is heaven after a long day in the sun, and I catch myself smiling. Everything about me feels soft, like the edges of the world have blurred just enough to make it easier to breathe.
I know I’ll sleep heavily tonight.
The closer we get to the restaurant, the hungrier I become. I tug Korie’s arm. “Come on.”
The air is cooler inside, tinged with salt, butter, and something fried. Old-fashioned nautical décor covers nearly every inch of the walls, from faded nets to old buoys. A large map of the Pacific Ocean covers the wall behind the hostess booth, revealing old currents and depth measurements.
What keeps my attention the most is the large glass tank on one side of the waiting area, where dozens of live lobsters crawl over one another, beady eyes pleading for help. The thick rubber bands around their claws make me sad—not sad enough to avoid eating them, but still sad.
“Still judging them?” Korie murmurs beside me.
I chuckle softly. “A little. It’s just cruel to display them like this.”
They bump my shoulder playfully. “Nah. Circle of life, my friend.”
The lobster nearest me climbs up, feet scrambling against the smooth surface. I can’t help but reach out to trace the lines of its shell.So sorry, little fella. If you weren’t so delicious, you wouldn’t be here.
We’re led to a table by wide, open windows. The sun is dipping below the horizon, painting everything in gold and amber. Out beyond the glass, the water rolls and crashes against the beach, and the sound seeps up through the floorboards.
Boats idle nearby, some pulling up to the small dock beneath us to pick up their food. I watch as a server leans over the railing to hand off a bag.
“Next time we take the boat out, we should order from here instead of our usual stuff.”
Korie immediately perks up. “Yes! That would be so fun.”
The table is barely big enough for the six of us. I end up next to Korie and across from Camila and Cole. Hattie takes one end seat, with Mateo on the other.
I stifle a yawn as I reach for the menu. The day is definitely catching up to me.
“So, how do you guys all know each other?” Cole asks.
“Camila and I used to work together, and Mateo has been our friend since… what, high school?” Hattie says.
Mateo nods. “Junior year. We met in AP History.”
“And you guys?” Cole asks, looking at Korie and me.
“Our parents are best friends,” I explain. “So we grew up together. Shared holidays and family trips together. All that—” I cut off abruptly when I see a gorgeous dark-haired man near the serving station. His broad shoulders and thick arms are mouthwatering, but it’s his smile that truly captures my attention. The way it reaches his eyes.
“Uh-oh. Holden’s spotted a hottie,” Hattie says with a chuckle, looking over her shoulder.
