Page 24 of Our Little Moments

“This is Layla’s favorite spot,” I respond, unable to think about anything else.

Dammit, Adrian. Talk about something that isn’t related to your sisters.

Stella might as well be a mind reader, because she asks, “Well, where’syourfavorite spot around here?”

“The mountains nearby. I love running there. It’s so freeing,” I admit before I can stop myself.

Stella grins. “That sounds like a lovely place.”

Stella

For the next hour, Adrian and I hang out at the beach.

I’m starting to think this man lives to take care of other people. Even when I told him that I don’t need his help with my powers, that I can take care of myself, he still takes care of the little things.

He hands me a water bottle. He drags us to a spot with more shade when the heat gets to be too much. He checks in on me.

His attention makes my heart warm just as much as it piques my curiosity. Does he even notice how much he does for other people? Even strangers?

I have no idea what it must feel like to take care of everyone like that. Maybe it’s fulfilling in a way. But how do you draw theline and say no when you have established yourself as someoneanyonecan rely on?

I mean, it must be hard to say no. I’ve seen him around town, helping everyone with anything they need.Does he ever say no? Does he ever stop?

Before I can ask any questions, squeals echo in the air as the sun starts setting.

We both turn to find his sisters running our way.

“How come you didn’t tell us you were coming to the beach with her! We could have joined you both!” Isabella says, barely out of breath, unlike her sisters.

Before Adrian or I can respond, Layla says, “You know how much I love coming to the beach. How dare you not tell me!”

“Come on.” Adrian chuckles. “Stella’s new to town. She doesn’t need my three sisters rushing to meet her every chance they get.”

He’s clearly trying to be diplomatic.

It doesn’t work. At all.

“You know we’ll be sweethearts,” Hazel comments.

“We weren’trushingto meet her here,” Layla mutters.

“We’re the sweetest people in this town!” Isabella exclaims.

I wave, trying to catch their attention.

“Hi,” I tell them, desperate to stop the yelling. It’s giving me a headache.

Adrian seems to catch on to what I’m trying to do and remembers that his sisters don’t know I know everything he shared about them. He starts introducing us to each other.

“Stella, these are my sisters. Layla”—he points to the one with curly, chocolate-brown hair and ocean-blue eyes—“She’s the artistic one. She’s a romance author.”

“Yeah, but right now, I’m not plotting a romance novel, I’m plotting your murder.”

We all laugh at her joke, and it makes my heart burst with joy to be included in their affectionate teasing.

“Isabella, the annoying one of us.”

She rolls her eyes, clearly used to the comment. “Hey, Stella. Nice seeing you again.”

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