Page 54 of Come Break My Heart Again

I pull a pink pajama set out of my suitcase, twist my hair up into a bun, and head downstairs.

“Finally!” Juliet cheers when I reach the bottom of the stairs.

The first floor has an open concept, the kitchen, living room, and dining room all sharing most of the main space.

“Martini or gin and tonic?” Juliet asks as I approach the counter, covered with crackers, cheese, and a bunch of bottles.

“Martini,” I answer.

“Here.” Juliet hands me a glass a minute later. “Made it extra dirty for you.” She winks.

“Thank you.” I stick my tongue out at her before walking over toward the long table, where Keira’s sitting with Avery and Ophelia around a huge spread of sushi.

Avery was Keira’s freshman-year roommate, and Ophelia works in the kitchen of Keira’s restaurant. I’m not as close to them as I am with Juliet and Keira, but they’re both kind, accomplished women.

Juliet joins us a few seconds later, a drink in hand.

The sushi is delicious, maybe the best I’ve ever had. No shortage of fresh seafood when you’re surrounded by the ocean.

I don’t talk much during dinner, soaking in the relaxed atmosphere and sipping on my martini as I listen to Ophelia joke about her worst experiences with dating apps.

Once we finish eating, the empty sushi containers get tossed in the recycling. Glasses get drained.

Ophelia heads up to bed first, followed by Avery soon after. Juliet takes a call from Gavin—her on-again, off-again boyfriend—and wanders toward the sunporch.

I go upstairs to let Scout out of his crate, then bring him down and out onto the deck. While he sniffs around the beach grass, I settle in one of the Adirondack chairs. The animal rescue didn’t know much about Scout’s backstory, but I’m guessing this is his first visit to the ocean. So far, his highlights seem to be digging in the sand and chasing seagulls.

There’s a soft swish, and Keira steps out onto the deck, closing the sliding door behind her. She tightens the white sweater wrapped around her shoulders as she takes the seat next to mine.

The sun’s disappearance has dropped the outside temperature by at least ten degrees. Paired with the breeze wafting off the water, it’s chilly out.

I run my finger around the rim of the martini glass that has an inch of liquid left, smearing the prints from my lip gloss. My feet are falling asleep, propped up on the railing, but I don’t move them. I just stare out at the moon-drenched sea.

“I never want to leave,” I confess. “I forgot how perfect this place is.”

“I’d get bored,” Keira says. “I’m jealous you ended up in Boston.”

“Open up a second location of The Franklin,” I suggest.

She groans. “I’m still exhausted from getting the first one off the ground.”

“That’s what I’m saying. Just relax here. Look out at the ocean and listen to the waves.”

“Maybeyoushould move out here.”

I laugh once. “I can’t.”

“You can do whatever you want, Elle.”

“There’s not a lot of legal work on most islands.”

Keira fishes the olive out of her martini glass and pops it into her mouth. “And no fancy brownstone or fancy job or fancy boyfriend.”

I exhale. “We’re taking a break.”

“You and Prescott?”

“No. Me and my fancy townhouse.”

---