Page 106 of Summer Love

Jace goes still on the ladder for a second. Then he brings the shutter down, sets it aside, and looks at me.

“You’re giving it away.”

“It’s not like I’ve got another option,” I shoot back.

I cross my arms. The dried paint pulls at my skin.

“I have to go back to New York.”

The reminder is as much for me as for him. New York, my rent, my student loan. The real world. Not the one with the waves, the warm sand, and the too-blue sky.

Jace moves the ladder.

“You could rent it out.”

I frown.

“What do you mean?”

“Six bedrooms. It’s a big house. Until a buyer makes a serious offer, you rent out each room separately.”

He lifts the next shutter, brings it down, sets it aside.

“And you rent it furnished. That way you don’t have to empty the house. The furniture stays, the tenants live with what’s there.”

I wouldn’t have to empty the house.

Grandma’s kitchen. The mismatched plates. The worn-out couch. The shelves. All the things I can’t keep and can’t throw away.

Jace sets the ladder under the second-to-last window and climbs up.

“You can keep one room and lock it. Leave your stuff in there, your own things. That way, when you come back, you’ve got somewhere to sleep.”

“I don’t plan on coming back to Coral Bay.”

Jace lifts the shutter, brings it down, sets it against the wall—harder than before. The same motions, but quicker, sharper.

Without a word, he moves to the last window. Flip is lying near the lined-up shutters, muzzle between his paws.

“I’d never find tenants anyway,” I murmur.

The shutter joins the others. Jace folds up the ladder and leans it against the wall, then turns to me.

“I’m pretty sure Kai and Maya would be interested. They live at the lodge, in a cabin with a shared bathroom⁠—”

He’s thinking out loud, like he’s making a list.

“Noah, maybe. Miles? My mom and Avery—their place is tiny and on the other side of town. I can mention it to them, if you want.”

I shake my head.

“I don’t know, Jace. I don’t want to have to deal with it anymore.”

No more roof to check, no more shutters to wrestle off their hinges, no more yard to keep up, no more ghosts in the bedrooms. I want to sell, take the money, go back to New York, and pay off my loan.

Jace wipes his hands on his shorts.

“Kai and Maya are reliable,” he says. “My mom too. You wouldn’t have to do a thing.”