Page 99 of The Beach Trap

“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. I don’t have the energy for another search-and-rescue mission like on the Fourth of July.

I scramble out of the water and pull my dry T-shirt over my sopping-wet bra as I scan the darkness. No sign of the dog.

“Max!” I call softly. “Max, buddy, where are you?”

There’s a rustle of leaves from the walkway on the left side of the house, so I take a few steps in that direction. Then I hear a voice and stop. At first I can’t make out the words, but when I do, I realize it’smyvoice. My words, too.

“...everything’s okay between Kat and me. Better than okay, actually.”

Confused, I take a step forward. I’m not sure where my phone landed; did it somehow start playing the message I left Noah? Then I freeze as I see a tall silhouette coming toward me.

My voice continues:“So, um, you know what you said that night, the last night we saw each other? About if—if we’d had more time together?”

I blink and realize it’s Noah walking toward me in the shadows, his phone in his hand; he has it on speaker.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. He’s supposed to be in Boston.

He doesn’t answer, just walks closer until he’s about ten paces away from me, his face shadowed so I can’t read his expression. The dog dances around his legs, begging for attention, but Noah ignores him; he’s focused on me. Holding my gaze with such intensity I can hardly take a breath.

I don’t know what to do, how to react, why he’s here—so I just stand there shivering, a puddle collecting at my feet, as I listen to myself bare my soul to him:

“...I want you to know you weren’t alone in—in your feelings. If we’d had more time together, I could’ve loved you, too.”

My message ends and we’re left with silence and darkness and so many questions filling the air that it’s difficult to breathe.

Noah breaks the silence. “I’ve listened to this three times. The first time, I could hardly register what you were saying. The second time, I realized this meant you were here, in Destin. I thought you were in Minnesota.”

I’m frozen, unable to move or speak, not sure what to expect from him next.

“And then I ran to my car and drove over here,” he continues. “I saw your car parked in the driveway, but when I knocked no one answered, so I stood out there for a while and startedyour message the third time. The dog came around the side of the house and I followed him...”

He stops. Lifts the phone. “Did you mean this? Or did you just say it because you thought I was in Boston and we’d never see each other again?”

“I meant it,” I say, just above a whisper. “Every word.”

And then he’s crossing the distance between us, and his arms are coming around me, and he’s scooping me up to his height, squeezing my ribs so tightly that for a moment I think they might crack. Noah is holding me, he’s kissing my wet cheeks, whispering in my ear that he missed me, that he couldn’t stop thinking about me, that he wants the chance to make me fall in love with him.

That isn’t going to be difficult. Because I’m already halfway there, my defenses down as I fall, plummeting into love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

KAT

Even though I’ve lived in Atlanta my whole life and my apartment was designed to be an Instagrammable sanctuary, it didn’t feel like coming home this week.

The two extra days I spent in Destin with Blake filled my heart with something I didn’t realize I’d been missing. As much as I loved my weeks alone at the beach house, there’s something about being there with someone else. With family.

And now I’m on my way to my weekly dinner with the other living member of my family. My mom.

The dinners are never exactly “fun,” but I’m particularly not looking forward to this one. Ever since my conversation with Blake the other night, I’ve been thinking about the role my mom played in all this.

I know she knew about Blake—but I need to know when she found out. It matters whether it was something she found out in recent years, or if she’d known all along. I really hope she didn’t know the whole time.

Even though my mom isn’t the most warm and fuzzy woman, I can’t imagine she’d be okay with letting a child be practically orphaned.

But there’s another piece of the story that doesn’t make sense. From all the stories Blake’s told me of the way Dad was when they were together, he clearly loved her—so how could he just walk away?

I know what’s done is done and there’s no changing the past, but I feel like I can’t move on if I don’t know the whole story and whatever part my mom played in it. Which I hope was that of an innocent bystander.

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