Page 85 of The Beach Trap

A sound at the door startles us both, and we pull back like teenagers up to no good, straightening up just as Sunny pops her head out the door.

“Kat!” she exclaims, bounding toward us and climbing in my lap.

“Hi, sweet girl,” I say, giving her a kiss on top of her head. My heart surges with love for this man and his daughter and this moment. Never in a million years would I have thought this was what happiness looked like: a run-down porch, a man with holes in his jeans, a girl with a ratty old bunny and a stain on her shirt. The feeling of belonging.

It hits me that I’ve had it all wrong. I’ve been looking for beautiful things to bring meaning to life, when it’s moments like these—vulnerable, authentic, imperfect—that make life beautiful.

Suddenly, I know what I have to do to finish the Rachel Worthington application. It’s due end of day tomorrow, so I’vegot to hurry. Even if I don’t win the sponsorship, at least I’ll know I’ve created something that’s authentically me.

“I’ve got to go,” I tell Henry.

Sunny crawls from my lap to his, and I wish I could lean down and give him another kiss, but I don’t want to be presumptuous in front of Sunny.

“Thanks for the Popsicle,” I tell him. “I’ll call you later?”

He smiles and nods, pulling his little girl closer.

“Say ‘good night, Kat,’ ” he says, and Sunny echoes his words in a singsong voice.

I bound down the stairs, feeling like there are clouds beneath my feet. I turn back before getting in the car and give Henry a “let’s pick up where we left off soon” smile.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

BLAKE

I’m not sure how long I sit near the harbor by myself, but the sun has fully set and my body feels stiff by the time I stand up. When I pass a group of people heading into a bar, I let my hair fall in front of my face to shield my puffy red eyes. I’m several miles from the Rooneys’ place, and I know I could call Noah to pick me up, but I need to sort through my thoughts first. I can’t talk with Kat yet; after the way she yelled at me, I’m not sure I’ll be ready for a while. But I do need to talk with Noah.

It takes me nearly two hours to walk back to the Rooneys’ house. By the time I get there, all the emotion has drained out of me. I’m a dried-up sponge with sore feet. Near the pool, Noah is asleep on a lounge chair, and for a moment I’m transported back to the first few weeks I knew him, when he was just the sexy, sarcastic groundskeeper, fun to tease and undress with my eyes. The dog is asleep on the ground next to him, one of Noah’s hands resting on his furry head.

I take a few steps forward, and Noah sits up at the sound. The shimmering water of the pool reflects the glow of thelandscaping lights, casting shadows on his face, deepening the lines on his forehead and around his mouth. He’s still wearing the button-down and shorts he wore to the bar, but they’re wrinkled and disheveled now.

“Did you walk here?” he asks quietly.

I nod. The dog perks up and trots over to greet me, and I kneel down and give him a scratch around his ears, appreciating the comfort of his soft warmth.

“That’s got to be five or six miles,” Noah says, shaking his head. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I needed to clear my head.” My excuse sounds weak and flimsy, which is exactly how I feel.

Noah’s eyes track my face, like he wants to say something but doesn’t know how. He looks worried and exhausted, and my throat tightens when I realize that it’s my fault for running out on him.

I walk over and sit on the lounge chair next to his, facing him, our knees a few inches apart. The dog sits between us, tail wagging happily. Oblivious to the tension in the air.

“Please talk to me,” Noah says.

The quiet concern in his voice sparks fresh tears in my eyes, and I blink to clear them. Noah reaches for my hand, but I keep it on my lap. I’m not strong enough to touch him. If I do, I won’t be able to go through with this.

“I—I need you to explain some things,” I say.

“Of course. Anything.”

“Kat’s the girl you lost your virginity to, right?”

His eyes go wide. “Oh my god—no. No. Absolutely not. Blake, I would never, ever—she was like a little sister to me.”

My body goes slack with relief. But still: “She had a crush on you for years, though. She made it sound like you two were—”

“We kissed once,” Noah says. “I think I was sixteen? It wasa stupid teenage kiss, but I never had any romantic feelings toward her. My sister’s always had this idea that Kat and I should end up together, but I was never part of that. Never, Blake. Please believe me.”

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