Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131821 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 659(@200wpm)___ 527(@250wpm)___ 439(@300wpm)
I’m suffocating.
Most of us stand, stretching or refilling cups, but I wait for their backs to turn, taking the opportunity to step away. Pushing onto shaky legs, I move toward my brother, take his hand, and gently set the baby monitor in his palm.
He looks at me with concern, but a quick squeeze of his fingers is all I can give.
Panicked and unable to catch a full breath, I clutch my phone in my fist, running down the deck stairs and onto the sand.
Ari and Noah are in their own little world, cuddled by the fire, but both jerk my way when I hurry past.
“Payton?” she calls, but I keep running, down the side of the house and toward the front, across the grass and onto the sidewalk.
I pause there in the shadows, gripping my head and squeezing my eyes closed as tears threaten to take me under, to drown me.
My jaw is clenched tight, and I tug on the strings of my hoodie, letting it bite into my neck as I drop my head back, welcoming the cold air against my clammy skin.
Headlights flick on, and I jolt, eyes narrowing when they flash a second time.
I sniffle, swiping my cheeks with my sleeves and run over to the old red truck sitting idling at the curb. Curling my fingers over the edge of the windowsill, eyes the color of emeralds meet mine.
“Where are you going?” I blurt out before he can ask me what’s wrong.
Chase visibly winces, looking out the windshield at the road ahead. “Is it bad if I say anywhere but here?” Slowly, he faces my way.
I know that look. It mirrors one of mine.
My shoulders fall a little, and I offer a small smile. Chase is waiting for me to question him, to ask if the reason he would rather be anywhere but here has anything to do with a certain couple sitting by the fire that he may or may not be able to handle seeing together.
Not everyone knows how important it can be to dodge a question. Sometimes it’s the only thing keeping that final string from snapping and leaving behind a welt you can’t hide. So no, I don’t ask him any of that, saying instead, “Is it bad if I want to go with you?”
Chase stares a moment, and then he reaches across the cab, pushing open the door in invitation.
I don’t hesitate, not when I know Deaton is safe and sound, asleep in his crib with my brother watching over him. I climb in the cab, buckle my seat belt, and meet his gaze.
He tips his head. “Where do you want to go?”
A grin pulls at my lips, my limbs suddenly feeling ten pounds lighter with the promise of an escape. “Anywhere but here.”
Chase chuckles, tosses me the blanket he pulls from behind his seat, and puts the truck in drive. He doesn’t tell me where we’re headed, and honestly, I’m not sure he even knows, but I don’t care.
I’m along for the ride either way.
Just as we’re pulling away, a flash of something catches my eye. I turn, glancing toward the house as we roll past, and there he is.
Mason stands at the edge of the house, a can of cream soda hanging from his fingertips…eyes on me.
My head snaps forward so fast, I know Chase notices.
Whether he sees Mason or not, he doesn’t say.
He doesn’t stop either. Instead, his foot hits the gas a little harder, leading farther down the road.
The streets are lively tonight, the usually dark sky lit by bonfires, string lights, and cell phone flashes. The people of Oceanside, both young and old, enjoying the last holiday of the summer before most go back to their normal, everyday lives. People run the roads barefoot, dragging wagons stuffed with ice chests, blankets, toddlers, and dogs. One guy is even rolling a keg around, his friends laughing and helping push it from behind but tripping over one another, liquid spilling from their plastic cups.
Chase and I both chuckle at the sight and end up sitting at the stop sign for almost three minutes, just waiting for a chance to turn among the crowd.
“Looks like the beach is clearing out,” I comment, a strange mix of numbness and relief settling over my bones. “I wonder if we’ll see a bunch of people packing up to go home tomorrow.”
Chase glances over with a grin. “Aw, she’s a real ocean girl now? Tired of sharing the beach with drunk college kids and screaming babies—” Chase clamps his mouth closed so fast I can’t help but laugh. He looks away, rubbing the back of his head, short brown strands sliding along his fingers. At the light, he finally looks back. “I’m sorry. That was…shit.”
“Don’t worry about it.” My lips turn up slightly, and I pull the blanket up to my neck, watching the small shops as we go by. “Because you’re absolutely right. The lungs on some of those babies, I’d pull my hair out.”