Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(76)

Lacey whistles. “Easy there. I’m just saying, Danny boy must be super-secure in your relationship if he’s not even curious about the first guy you ever loved.”

I catch my breath, trying to calm myself. The last thing I need is to wind up dead, crashed in a ditch before I even reach the county line. I slow my speed and focus on the road ahead. “Daniel isn’t coming because I told him not to. I said I need the space to study in peace. And…he doesn’t know about Emerson.” I admit in a rush.

“What?” Lacey’s screech makes me swerve all over again. “You said you told him ages ago!”

“I did,” I protest weakly. “I said there was a guy I dated, before college. But I didn’t say he was here. Or how serious it was.”

“Serious?” Lacey’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Try, like a f*cking anvil.”

“What was I supposed to say, Lace?” I sigh, feeling that familiar wash of guilt that always settles over me whenever I think about the half-truths I’ve told my boyfriend. “That I had my heart broken so entirely, it took everything I had not to slash open my wrists just to make the pain stop?”

My voice is light now, but the words are true. For the longest time, it felt like I was teetering on a precipice, like one wrong step could send me tumbling into the darkness. The worst part was, there were moments I wanted to take that leap, to just end the pain for good.

“Oh, babe…” Lacey’s voice softens. She knows what it was like for me: as my freshman roommate, she had a front-row seat to the damage that summer left behind. The days when all I did was curl in a ball, weeping, the weeks I barely ate or left my room at all, except for classes. She was the one who finally sat me down and staged a one-girl intervention: dragging me out to parties and coffee-breaks and the campus therapist, who prescribed me a whole list of anti-depressants and anti-anxiety meds.

The pills helped—too much, I think sometimes—but Lacey was my real lifesaver, forcing me to fake at being OK long enough that I finally began to believe it for myself. I didn’t meet Daniel until my junior year, and by then, I could almost believe that those dark days were behind me for good. The only visible scar I had left was the tiny blue jay tattoo on my right shoulder blade. I’ve thought about getting it removed, wiping the slate clean completely, but something makes me leave it there to glimpse in the mirror every time I step out of the shower. A lasting reminder of all my dumb, f*cked up choices, and the road I swore I’d never take again.

Until now.

“It’ll be fine,” I say firmly, as if that old fake-it-’til-you-make-it strategy will work now, all over again. “I’ll pack up the house for the realtor and be back by Monday. I picked up groceries in the city, so I won’t even need to go into town.”

“If you say so.” Lacey’s voice is doubtful, but she doesn’t press. “Call me later, babe.”

“Love you.”

I hang up, and grip the steering wheel determinedly. It’ll be simple: I’ve got a plan, just like I said to Lacey. I’ll get the beach house packed up, hand the keys over to the realtor, and leave town for good this time—no mess, no fuss, and damn well no moping over old memories.

I head around the next bend, and all of a sudden, the familiar sign comes into view.

Welcome to Beachwood Bay. Population 5,654.

Despite all my good intentions to leave the past in its dark, deep grave, I can’t help it. One look at that peeling wooden board is all it takes for my mind to go racing back, four years ago, to the last time I drove down this road.

The day when I met him.

***

4 years ago…



“…And we can make s’mores in the fire pit, and cycle into town for ice cream like we always used to. Jules? Juliet?”

My mom’s voice slips through my daydreams. I’m staring out the window at the haze of gray and moss green blurring past, fiercely wishing with everything I have that I was anywhere but here.

I turn. My mom is looking over from the driver’s seat. “What?” I snap, not even trying to keep the irritation from my tone.

“I was just planning all the fun things we can do this summer.” Mom glances out of the windshield at the rain drizzling against the glass. “When the weather clears up, at least.”

“We could have stayed in the city another week,” I remind her with a stab of bitterness. “I barely had time to say goodbye to everyone. I’m missing the big graduation party. And Carina gets to stay…”

“Your sister has classes,” Mom reminds me. “She’ll drive down with your father next week.”

I sigh. My older sister is twenty-two, finishing up college at UNC. She’s majoring in publicity and marketing, and from what I can tell, that just means she spends most of her time strutting around the bars of Raleigh on the lookout for an eligible bachelor. And by eligible, she means a future lawyer or investment banker from the right kind of family, earning six figures with another seven in a trust somewhere. I don’t want to call her a shallow bitch, but she earns it.

“We could have waited for them,” I murmur. “I mean, isn’t the whole point of this summer—to be one big happy family?” My voice is full of sarcasm.

I see my mom flinch out of the corner of my eye, but she doesn’t rise to my bait. “Another few days would have turned into another week or more,” she says briskly, instead. “And then summer would be halfway done before we even arrived.”