Page 46 of Broken Hearts

Sage’s eyes widen a little, and I can tell she’s surprised, probably because she’s always had to drag things out of me, especially things about her dad. But I know that’s unfair, that it’s not all her fault she’s missed out on so many things with him. Things that I got to share with him.

Things I now want to share with her.

“Can I…” She trails off, glancing down at herself. “Can I go like this?”

Smiling, I nod. “You can. Island life is pretty casual. But you might wanna put on a swimsuit,” I tell her.

“Okay,” she says, stepping back. “Just give me a sec.”

She moves away from me, disappearing into the bathroom before she returns, grabbing her purse and sliding her feet into some flip flops. I grab my phone from the kitchen counter, and we walk downstairs and over to the garage. I grab a couple of beach towels along with my board and a spare.

Sage watches me, not saying anything before she opens the door and gets in the car. I slide into the driver’s seat, glancing over at Sage beside me. She looks better now, more relaxed and happier, an easy smile on her face as she winds down the window, resting her elbow on the frame.

“You ready?” I ask, my hand on the gear stick.

Sage nods, her smile widening as she turns to me. “Yep, let’s do it.”

The drive isn’tthat long, maybe only fifteen minutes, the small road trailing along the ocean, the breeze blowing through the open windows. This island is literally paradise, like a postcard everywhere you look: lush and green, blue and sparkling, the sun shining.

I close my eyes, basking in the fresh air, always remembering my dad and how he told me hibiscus flowers don’t smell, but to me they smell like peace and calm and beauty. The air helps my hangover too, clearing my head.

I run a hand through my hair, pulling it back into a messy bun at the nape of my neck. I secure it with a tie from my wrist. The wind has blown it into a knotty mess, and I’m sure the water won’t help it. I’ll need another shower by the time we get back.

Nate and I don’t speak, enjoying the quiet stillness that washes over both of us. There isn’t the awkwardness I expected after what happened between us last night, and really, this morning. I’m not a confrontational person and won’t dare push him to talk about what led to the argument we had. I know enough now to know that his past is difficult for him, and that my dad was a big part of Nate being able to move on and have a normal life.

“So what’s the plan?” I now ask as the tires come to a stop along the gravel shoulder of the road. The turquoise waters of the ocean are on one side of us, and on the other side sits a small food truck.

“Food and surfing,” Nate replies casually as if I spend my days surfing too.

I’ve never set foot on a surfboard, but at least I do know how to swim. The trouble isn’t so much the water, it’s what lives in the water. I’ve seenJawsa few too many times, and I look out at the water as I exit the truck.

“Are there sharks?” I now ask, sounding way too much like a child, and Nate laughs, looking at me with a wry grin as I round the back of the truck and meet him.

“It’s their home, Sage, so yeah, there are sharks.”

“Like right where we’re going to be?” I spit out, the panic evident. My heart rate kicks up, my palms sweating at the idea of me swimming along and there are sharks at my feet.

“No, they don’t just swim up and hang out looking to eat people. You have a fear of sharks?” Nate asks, narrowing his eyes, gently slipping his hand into mine. His touch is warm and comforting.

“I mean, maybe. Kinda. Well, yeah, I’m from New York.Jaws.” I say this as if this should be a perfectly normal explanation.

“That’s a movie, Sage. You’re good with me.”

His hand tightens in mine, giving a quick glance at the road, checking for cars. He tugs me in the direction of the food truck and away from the shark-infested waters.

His words play out in my head, running through over and over.You’re good with me.Things might not have been good with us last night, but I do truly feel safe with him.

“This truck has the best shrimp on the island,” Nate tells me. “Get the garlic shrimp. You’ll love it.”

We walk up to the window, a young guy with a backward baseball cap on smiles brightly at Nate, holding out a fist. Nate bumps it.

“Mahalo, what’s going on, man?” the guy says to Nate, looking over at me, he gives a tip of his head in a greeting.

“Just here for the best shrimp on the island and to introduce you to Mitch’s daughter. This is Sage Harris.” Nate steps behind me, giving me space to reach up and shake the guy’s hand.

“Matt,” he says when our hands meet. “Your dad, shit, so sorry, but he was seriously the coolest guy I’ve ever met. You’re lucky you had him raising you.”

I swallow hard at his comment. The smile I once had falls away from my face, and I feel Nate step closer to me.

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