Page 61 of Broken Hearts

How can I take this away from him?

This is everything he’s ever known, and my dad would never have taken it from him. If he were still alive…

My thoughts trail off, realizing that if my dad hadn’t passed away, I wouldn’t know Nate. None of this would be happening and I’d still be in New York, living the life I’ve grown used to, a life that didn’t include my dad.

“Hey,” Nate says, looking over his shoulder, his smile fading when he takes in my face. “You okay?” He hooks his finger at me, calling me to him, and I go without question.

“Just thoughts of my dad,” I say, swallowing back the threat of tears.

“He’d be proud of you, Sage,” Nate tells me, and that doesn’t help the tears, spilling from my eyes now and down my cheeks. The pad of his thumb captures the tears, swiping them across my cheek. “The fact that you’re here and you’re…”

Now it’s Nate who stops talking, his arms wrapping around me, holding me to him as I rest my head on his shoulder. He’s been the best thing about this trip, helping me come to terms with all of this.

“Go visit with Alana. Have fun, and I’ll be here when you get back,” he tells me, pressing a soft kiss to my hair.

Alana’s house is only a ten-minute walk from the shop, and I make my way over there quickly, taking in the gorgeous scenery as I do.

The island is a funny place. It’s gorgeous everywhere you turn, lush and green, turquoise blue waters, flowers of every color, but this side of the island, far from the tourists, while still stunning, has some areas that show their age.

Alana’s house is old, a small little cottage with a cute front porch, but it is in dire need of maintenance, not that I expect her to do that on the money she makes working at The Pipe Dream. I’m guessing it’s a rental, charging far too much because that seems to be the way it is.

She’s sitting on the front porch when I walk up, wearing a pair of cut-offs and a bikini top. Her deep brown hair is piled high on her head.

“Hey!” she calls, hopping up, her infectious smile on her face. She’s the kind of person you can’t help but be happy around, radiating this energy that gives life to anything ordinary.

“Hi, you ready to teach this city girl how to make a lei?” I tease, and she claps her hands, holding the front door open for me.

Sloane and Daisy are sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through their phones when I walk in, and the three of these girls together could give anyone issues with self-esteem. With their tanned skin and lean muscles from surfing, their hair perfectly sun-kissed, they embody everything that people think about when they think of Hawaii.

“Come on in,” Daisy calls, motioning for me to sit down. The table is covered in yellow flowers, with greenery scattered around.

Sloane is sitting cross-legged in her chair, a string and a needle now in her hands as Alana comes in from the kitchen holding an orange plant.

“Hala for the memorial service,” she tells me. “It’s what we use to honor someone, but we also have some yellow hibiscus because it was Mitch’s favorite.”

“It’s my favorite too,” I respond, picking up one of the flowers and smelling it.

“They don’t smell,” Sloane says, pulling her blonde hair into a messy bun. She smiles at me as I press my nose to the flower again.

“My dad used to tell me the same thing, but they do smell. At least to me they do. I guess living in a city all my life, you pick up on the little things,” I comment, letting the flower rest in my hand.

“Yeah, I get that,” she says.

“By the way, Owen told me to tell you he says hi,” I say, directing my comment at Sloane, and all this seems to do, is cause Daisy and Alana to burst out laughing.

“That boy,” Sloane mutters, tossing her middle finger up in Alana’s direction as she shakes her head.

“Speaking of boys,” Alana starts, her brows arching, “tell me what’s going on with Nate.”

And it doesn’t even take her five minutes of me being here before she starts fishing for gossip, and all I can do is unload it all on her.

“So,how long have you and Sage been hooking up?”

I glance up to see Owen leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest and a huge smirk on his face.

“What?”

Owen laughs, pushing off the frame as he walks through the office and out the back door. I hear the sound of the fridge opening, and moments later, he’s back, two Coronas in his hand. He pops both caps before handing one to me and says again, “How long have you and Sage been hooking up?”

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