Page 65 of Debugging Love

She looks up at me tentatively. “I thought you could use a little care package.”

I rest my hand on the doorframe and lean into it. “You didn’t have to do that.”

She smiles and hands me the bag. “I know. But I did. As your team lead, I’m responsible for maintaining morale. And I did this to you. So…” She gives me a quick wave. “Good night.” And then she sprints back to her apartment.

As your team lead…

The words play on repeat in my head while I dig through her care package. Epsom salts. A bath bomb. A cold pack. Aspercreme and a bottle of ibuprofen. In the bottom is a card, signedI’m sorry, Danni.

I’m not. Today was the best day I’ve had in a long, long time.

I set the bag on the couch, grab my phone, and return to my gaming chair, pull up JustInCase.xlsx and start texting.

Sorry, but I have to cancel.

Two of the women text back quickly, Rose with a simpleOkay, and Bridgette asking if I want to reschedule. I tell her I’m moving soon and cutting ties with Charleston, which isn’t a total lie. I’m probably moving away from Charleston at some point. And I am cutting ties. With Rose and Bridgette. And Savannah, but she doesn’t text back. Hopefully she will soon.

My knee makes itself known as I stand. I pocket my phone and grab Danni’s care package, dig out the ibuprofen and toss a couple into my mouth, chasing it with orange juice. Then I grab the bath bomb and Epsom salts and fill up the tub with warm water and soak for twenty minutes.

Afterward, I feel exhausted, but better. An early bedtime is in order. Ten minutes later, my teeth are brushed, my pajama pants are on, and I’m curled up under the covers with thoughts of Danni lulling me to sleep.

Chapter 16

Danni

We file out of the bus with bags, folding chairs, and blankets in hand, the hot July sun blazing overhead. Christopher is the last to land on the sandy asphalt, weighed down by a cooler and a popup canopy. Folly Beach County Park is a narrow strip of oceanfront land, the beach steps away across a short boardwalk. My flip-flops sink into the warm sand as I head toward the shoreline.

“Here?” Violet hollers back to Christopher, referring to a wide unclaimed spot. The beach isn’t crowded yet. It’s still early.

Christopher nods and the twelve of us drop our bags and begin spreading out. Morgan, Kayla, and I make a patchwork of blankets and plop down. A few paces ahead, Chance and Drew unfurl their towels, and then Chance whips off his shirt, revealing taut, toned muscles that twitch and bulge with every movement.

“Got enough sunscreen there?” Morgan asks. I glance down. A sand dollar of lotion is puddled on my forearm. I hurriedly transfer some onto my legs while side-eyeing Chance’s wide latsand tapered waist. A sheen of sweat draws attention to every curve and line.

While I work, Morgan sits with bent knees, arms draped around her shins, gazing at Chance’s triangular back. She sighs.

Something pokes at me. “Do you want me to get your back?”

Morgan sighs again with that swoony smile on her face. “Sure.” She swivels on her rear.

A vague sense of relief replaces the poking. I scoot over and squirt sunscreen onto her back.

She shivers. “It’s cold.”

Behind us, Drew insists he isn’t hot even though he’s wearing a sweatshirt and sweatpants. “No sunscreen is strong enough to protect my sensitive skin.”

“You’re going to melt,” Chance says.

“I will not remove my sweatsuit between the hours of ten and four o’clock.”

“Suit yourself.”

“Ha ha,” Drew deadpans.

“It wasn’t a pun.”

“I will be the judge of that.”

“We have to put up with them all day?” I whisper to Morgan.

---