Page 77 of Dirty Little Mistake

He shoved a hand through his hair. "I wasn't actually allowed to."

A laugh bubbled up. "Yeah," I said, sarcasm dripping from my words. "Well, I guess it worked. Your new song hit number one, right?"

"Honestly, Cam, I would give it all up to make things right with you again."

I shrugged, feeling the weight of our shared history pressing down on my shoulders. "You can't." Just as Trystan opened his mouth to speak again, a familiar voice cut through the night air.

"Everything okay?" Owen's voice echoed over the crashing waves.

I spun around, relief washing over me at the sight of his silhouette approaching. Forcing a smile, I replied, "Yeah, I was just heading back up to the house."

Owen's gaze lifted over my shoulder, narrowing on Trystan. "Come on." I shoved him playfully, pulling his attention back to me. "Let's go get a drink."

Owen slipped an arm around my shoulder, and we walked toward the house, leaving Trystan on the beach.

"So," I smiled once we were back on the pool deck, "I've been thinking..."

"Yeah?" He raised his brows. "About what?"

"Us."

"Okay, go on."

"I want to give this... us," I gestured between us, my hand shaking slightly, "a real try. Like boyfriend and girlfriend, exclusively." The words felt foreign on my tongue, exciting and terrifying all at once. I'd been obsessed with Trystan for so long. The idea of truly moving on, of giving my heart to someone else, was both liberating and daunting.

"What about him?" Owen jerked his head over his shoulder, his eyes searching mine.

I followed his gaze, catching a glimpse of Trystan's silhouette against the moonlit beach. A pang of... something—nostalgia? regret?—shot through me. But it was fleeting, quickly replaced by a sense of resolve.

"That's over," I whispered, surprised by the finality in my own voice. "He apologized and told me what happened, but it's over." As I spoke, I realized I was convincing myself as much as Owen. "I want to move on, and I want to do it with you."

The truth of those words settled into my bones.

"I don't want to be a rebound."

"You're not. You never were." I turned, placing my small hands flat on his rock-hard chest. "So, will you be my boyfriend?"

"Yes!" He dropped his face, pressing his lips to mine, and I didn't shy away even though I knew Trystan was watching from the beach."

Reminding myself this was the first step in truly moving on.

Chapter 37

Camryn

It was too late to go back now. I reminded myself as I pulled my sweatpants over my tights, trying to focus on the familiar motions instead of Trystan's face on the beach - the way his expression had crumpled when I'd looked back. The memory hit like a physical ache, one I thought would fade. Should have faded.

My phone rang, the sound sharp in the empty locker room. I didn't need to look at the screen. One week, forty voicemails, and countless texts later, it was still Trystan. Always Trystan. Each ignored call felt like another crack in my resolve, but I hit reject again, watching his name fade to black.

My phone chirped, alerting me that he left another message. I had forty unheard messages and even more unread text messages.

My phone chirped again, and I rolled my eyes. Another text message.

I had to put an end to this.

I flipped open his messages.

Trystan: I miss you.

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