Page 48 of The Beach Trap

He’s lying, but I appreciate the effort. Luckily for me, the dog bounds down the stairs and runs to Noah, his tail wagging. This gives me a moment to collect myself, swiping under my eyes for any rogue tears before I turn back around.

“Hey there, little Cheeto puff,” Noah says as he scratches the dog’s ears. “Puff daddy. Puff the magic dragon.”

He sings the last line, and I can’t help smiling, even though I still feel awkward. And not only because of what Noah just witnessed.

Things have been weird since our kiss on the beach the other day. I don’t know how to act around him, so I’ve mostly avoided him. Childish, I know, but it’s a bad habit of mine. Allowing people to get too close makes me uncomfortable.

“So... what brought that on?” Noah asks, nodding at the wall.

“The guy at the lumber store treated me like an idiot,” I say, shrugging. “His name was Kavin and he kept insinuating that I didn’t know what I was doing. It made me mad.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Remind me not to piss you off.”

“Har har,” I say, which is not my wittiest comeback. But I’m still feeling a little vulnerable, emotionally. “What brings you by today? You missed the dog?”

“I did, yeah,” he says. “But I mostly wanted to talk to you. Can we sit somewhere?”

My muscles tighten; that sounds ominous. “Sure. Let’s go outside on the deck.”

We head out, and I’m happy to notice the deck doesn’t wobble beneath our weight, thanks to Henry’s work last week, reinforcing the support structure. It still needs to be sanded down and stained, but at least it won’t collapse under us.

“What’s up?” I ask as we sit, several feet apart.

The dog comes between us and lays his head on Noah’s lap. He scratches the dog’s ears before starting to speak.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, matter-of-fact. “Which is fine—you’re not obligated to go out with me again or even to talk to me. But maybe you could let me know what’s going on in your head so I can respond accordingly.”

I exhale. I’ve never been great at communicating. Plus, I have overall trust issues with men—not a huge surprise, given what my dad did. My emotions have become increasingly raw the longer I stay here in Destin, as evidenced by my rage-filled attack on the wall moments ago. It’s easier to keep my distance, to avoid catching any pesky feelings for him.

“I’m really sorry,” I say.

Noah slides me a grin. “You didn’t crush my soul or anything; it’s just weird being ignored and I wanted to make sure there wasn’t anything else going on. That’s it.”

I bite my lip, trying to decide how much to tell him. How much of myself to expose. “Okay, you’re right. I’ve been avoiding you because my focus is on getting this renovation done. I don’t want to get distracted.”

It’s not the entire truth, but it’s not a lie, either.

“Fair enough,” he says, nodding. “Thanks for telling me.”

He seems like he’s about to stand up and leave, and I suddenly want him to stay, so on impulse I reach out and grab his forearm. “I’m not great at opening up to people, just so you know. Nothing to do with you, specifically.”

Martina said once that she thinks I leave people before they have a chance to leave me. This is why I rarely go out with anyone more than once or twice. She calls itpreemptive abandonment, which makes me roll my eyes. But she’s not wrong.

“I guess I’m glad it’s notspecificallyme,” Noah says, an amused smile on his face. “Why aren’t you great at opening up to people?”

I blink, surprised; I feel like that should be obvious. Also: Who is this emotionally intelligent man, asking thoughtful questions and being all mature and communicative? It’s weird.

“Well,” I say, “I told you my dad disappeared from my life after my mom died. I guess I have abandonment issues or whatever.”

“Which you took out on that poor wall in there,” he says, angling his head back toward the house.

“Iknewyou heard all of that.” I cover my face with my hands. “Ugh, so embarrassing.”

“Why are you embarrassed? From where I’m sitting, your dad is the one who should’ve been embarrassed. He was the asshole in the situation, not you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that I’ve become pretty good at keeping my feelings about him locked away, but being here is forcing me to deal with all of it and Ihatefeeling all theseemotions.”

“Yeah, emotions suck,” he says, smiling.

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