Bad Girl Reputation (Avalon Bay #2)(18)

Laughter tickles my throat. I’m half a second away from texting him to ask if he remembers that day when I realize I’m supposed to be keeping my distance.

My phone buzzes beside me.

A glance at it triggers an anguished groan. How does he do it? How does he always know when I’m thinking about him?

Evan: I’m sorry about the other night.

Evan: I was an idiot.

I sit there staring at the texts until I realize all the tension I’d been feeling over my run-in with Randall, all the anger and shame, has dissipated. My shoulders are limp, the ten-ton boulder on my chest finally removed. Even my headache has subsided. I hate that he can still do that too.

Me: Yes you were.

Evan: I think I’ve still got sand in my eye, if that makes you feel better.

Me: A little.

There’s a long delay, nearly a full minute before I see him typing again. The little gray bubbles appear, then disappear, then reappear.

Evan: Missed you.

Already I feel the tug, those old ties pulling me back to a place I swore I wouldn’t go again. Backsliding would be so easy. Making a promise to myself and actually keeping it this time is much harder.

It isn’t his fault—Evan didn’t make me this way. For once, though, I’ m choosing me.

Me: Missed you too. But that doesn’t change anything. I meant what I said.

Then I shut off my phone before he can respond.

Although it brings an unbearable ache to my chest, I force myself to look through the rest of the albums and piles of loose photos. Our entire relationship plays out in scenes preserved in single perfect moments.

You tore my brother’s heart out and took off without even a goodbye. What kind of cold-ass person does that? You have any idea what that did to him?

Cooper’s words, his accusations, buzz around in my head, making my heart squeeze painfully. He’s right—I didn’t say goodbye to Evan. But that’s because I couldn’t. If I had, I know he would have succeeded in convincing me to stay. I’ve never been able to say no to Evan. So I left without alerting him. Without looking back.

It’s past one a.m. when I finally shove the photos in their boxes and slide them to the back of the closet under clothes and old shoes.

Only dead things pine for the past. Sad things. I might be sad, but I’m not dead. And I intend to live while I still can.





CHAPTER 8

EVAN

Cooper and Mac are already sitting down in the kitchen with Uncle Levi when I walk through the door on Sunday night. The plans for Mac’s hotel are spread out on the table. She has her laptop open, hunched over the keyboard while gnawing on a pen. Daisy is the only one to acknowledge me, running up to climb my leg as I kick off my shoes.

“Hey, pretty girl,” I coo at the excited puppy.

“You’re late,” Cooper informs me.

“I stopped to pick up dinner.” I drop the bags of Chinese takeout on the counter. My brother doesn’t even turn his head from the blueprints. “No, don’t sweat it. My pleasure.”

“Thank you,” Mac says over her shoulder. “No egg in the fried rice, right?”

“Yes, I remembered.” For fuck’s sake, it’s like I’m the damn help around here.

“Leave that,” Levi says. “Come here. We need to talk about next week.”

Levi is our dad’s brother. He took us in after Dad died in a drunk driving accident when we were little and raised us when our mom couldn’t be bothered to care. Our uncle’s the only real family Cooper and I have left, and although it was difficult to bond with him growing up—he’s the gruff, quiet type whose idea of spending quality time together is sitting silently in the same room—the three of us have gotten closer lately.

He’s been running his own construction business for years. And after the recent hurricanes that ravaged Avalon Bay, he’s been flush with more renovation and demolition work than he can handle. Since Levi made Cooper and I partners in the business not too long ago, we’ve got a hell of a lot more on our plates too.

Our biggest and most pressing gig is The Beacon, the old landmark hotel on the boardwalk that Mac bought several months ago. The hotel had been gutted from the storm and sat abandoned for a couple years until Mac impulsively decided to fix it up. Her family is disgustingly wealthy, but she’d purchased The Beacon with her own money—I only recently found out that she’d made millions running her own websites that post cheesy relationship stuff.

“Got a call from Ronan West,” Levi is saying. “He needs some renovations on his house before he puts it up for sale. So that means we need to split one of you to run a crew out there.”

“Let one of the guys do it,” Cooper says, copping an attitude at the mention of Gen’s dad. Because Coop’s a damn child. “I don’t want things slipping at the hotel because we leave someone else in charge over there.”

We’re in the final stages of the renovation at Mac’s hotel, which is supposed to have a soft opening a few months from now in September. The idea being: She’ll bring in a select guest list to feel the place out and build up a reputation for the spa through the winter season, then hold the grand opening in the spring.

“Ronan’s a friend,” Levi counters. “I can’t send some knucklehead to him. I want to know he’s taken care of right.”