Page 177 of Summer Love

“Let’s go, big guy.”

CHAPTER 56

Jace

Ipush through the lodge door at 9 p.m. The bar’s packed, the pool too—families, couples, groups of tourists. But at the front desk, there’s only Yumi, sitting behind the counter.

“The others are coming,” I say.

She smiles, doesn’t ask questions.

I drag the two coffee tables and the rattan chairs in front of the big windows, into a lopsided half-circle. Flip lies down behind one of the chairs, rolls onto his side, closes his eyes.

Miles shows up first, his apron knotted at his waist.

“I’ve got you covered,” Yumi says, nodding toward the deck.

Miles thanks her, gives me a wave, and goes to sit down.

Avery and Mom follow. My sister throws her backpack on the floor and sits cross-legged in a chair.

Then Luke, with a platter of ten or so golden arancini, still warm. Sierra, a book under her arm. Evan in plain clothes, his aviators pushed up on his head. Maya, hair thrown up in a hurry. Kai, hands in his pockets.

Noah comes in through the service hallway, in Crocs and coveralls, his lighter in his hand. He leans against the wall, off to the side. He doesn’t say hi to anyone.

We settle in however we can—Maya on an armrest, Evan against the wall, the others in the seats. I stay standing, in the middle.

I tell them everything. Fast. The bare minimum.

When I’m done, my sister’s the first to speak.

“I don’t have a comp for two weeks. I’ll take over your lessons.”

“You need to train, Avy,” I say.

“It’s fine, I’ve got it.”

Mom nods.

“Go get her,” my sister adds.

Noah steps forward. Avery shakes her head, shoots him a hard look. He drops his eyes.

“I’ll help Mom run the school,” he says.

He offers without really believing it. He’s never wanted anything to do with the school, doesn’t know the first thing about the gear or the schedules. He offers anyway.

Coming from Noah, that means something.

“We’ve got it handled, love,” Mom says, very calm. “You need to go.”

She’s got a voice that carries without her ever raising it—twenty years of beaches, wind, kids you have to hush from thirty feet away.

“But even if she believes you,” she adds, “you’re not going there to bring her back. You’re going to tell her the truth. What she does with it is her choice. She has a life out there. Her career. What she’s built. Don’t go wrecking that.”

I nod. I already knew it, but it hurts to hear.

“I’ll pack you something to eat on the plane,” Luke says. “Sandwich, snacks... I’ll bring it all before you leave.”