Page 39 of Me and Mr. Just Right

“Wait, I don’t hate my job.”

“Please,” Bennett said with an eye roll. “We’re not as clueless as you seem to think we are.”

He tried to settle his thoughts on one point—they knew?—so he could argue with them. But all potential arguments with his brothers fled from his mind as Lia walked out of her room wearing his waterproof jacket zipped over her T-shirt and shorts. Her hair was in two braids again, her signature island look. More than anything, he wanted to stride across the room, pull her into his arms, and beg her to stay with him.

Beg her to trust him. To let him into her life and see all the parts of her she was hiding from him. To be smarter than him and push him away, because he didn’t know if he’d have the stamina to do it if she wasn’t pushing too.

“Ready?” he said gruffly instead.

Bennett narrowed his eyes, while Jules gave him anAre you serious right now?look.

“Ready,” Lia said lightly, and she took his arm like they were going to a ball.

Chapter 18

Whensheleaves,it’sdone.

Lia followed Haydn outside, feeling the gazes of Bennett and Jules on her back before the door closed between them. The rain came down in a steady drizzle, so she zipped up her jacket and flipped the hood over her hair. It served to both keep her head dry and help her avoid having to look at Haydn.

Inside the hoodie, it was easy to pretend she was alone again. On this island, all by herself, like she’d originally planned. It wasn’t the comforting thought she’d hoped it would be. She’d never been so grateful to have her original plans thwarted.

This week was a two-edged sword. Now she knew what she’d been missing. She hadn’t known relationships could be like this. It could be light and fun and easy, but also deep and meaningful. It could make her feel safe, both inside and out. You couldn’t miss something you’d never experienced, and now that she had, she’d spend the rest of her life longing for it again. Because she’d never settle for anything less.

That’s what she’d done with Bo—settle. She’d mistaken their creative energy for love. Whenever he’d put himself first, she’d told herself that it was healthy for partners to be apart—and the fact that she was relieved to have a break from him was a normal aspect of adult relationships. When he’d ignored her for weeks on end, she’d convinced herself he was protecting his creative flow.

When he’d taken portions of her lyrics without permission and given them to other artists, she’d told herself it was a compliment. Or that he was forgetful. Or that he was a horrible person, but weren’t they all horrible at one time or another? And it wasn’t unforgivable.

She’d been upset at all the lies Bo and Gwen told her, but she was realizing the person who had lied to her the most was herself. She hadn’t wanted to face the truth, and so she’d created a relationship she was comfortable with—one that never let her be completely vulnerable.

And she still hesitated to be vulnerable. She’d kept her guard up with Bo—and look what happened there. She’d lost the twelve amazing songs they’d co-written, and her best friend, and maybe even her reputation. She glanced sideways at Haydn. Being with him thrilled her as much as singing a new song, in that moment when everything came together and blended just right. She’d let her guard down with him, bit by bit and day by day, but even still he didn’t know everything.

And even still, the words caught on her tongue before she could speak them out loud.

I’m Aurelia Halifax. I’m still the girl who loves grilled cheese and napping in the sunlight and singing notes and lyrics that don’t always sound good or make sense together.

I’m still me, just famous.

What if he’d heard the lies Bo and Gwen had spread about her? What if he believed them?

The thought made her voice catch in her throat, made it impossible to speak. She couldn’t take the chance. She’d felt so hurt when she’d overheard him calling what they had a summer romance, but maybe he was right. No, hewasright. She just hadn’t wanted to face it.

On this island, it felt like anything was possible. But outside of it, nothing was. She’d take the boat back to the island and the plane back to Nashville, and she’d be stuffed so tightly into the Aurelia Halifax box, she wouldn’t be able to breathe or think or see or stretch out, much less have enough space for a whole other person.

It was decided, then. So where was the relief?

As they drew closer to the western shore of the island, she heard the crackling of seaweed and coral that indicated low tide. Tall pine trees towered on all sides of them until they broke free of the tree line to an open beach that slid into a receded ocean.

Where the north side of the island had been rocky, this side contained a beach with an enormous hill of sparkling white. She caught her breath at the sight of it—almost like diamonds on the beach, with the way the light hit them. “What in the world …?”

“Shells.”

She bent over and picked up a handful of the little white shards, some sharp and some smooth. They were bigger than grains of sand, but smaller than pebbles. “It’s so pretty.”

“There’s a group of seals who like the island’s buffet, and they leave behind these shells.” He peered out toward the horizon. “Look.”

She followed his finger to see a tiny head bobbing up in the water, maybe forty feet from shore. Lia’s breath caught, and she was suddenly feeling emotional. It was easier to think it was because of the novelty of seeing a seal than because of Haydn—and wasn’t she a pro at lying to herself? “There have to be millions of shells here.”

“Yep.”

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