Page 53 of Fated

Ash placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch somehow soothing the ache in my chest.

“On my birthday, we were going to spend the entire day lying on the beach. We would both have been lost in a good book and sipping on some type of fruity drink.”

A slight smile formed, even as a tear rolled down my cheek.

“At some point, she would’ve embarrassed me by pointingout some random guy about my age and saying way too loudly how cute she thought he was.”

A chuckle burst its way through the tears now freely falling down my face.

Ash didn’t say a word, but the weight of his gaze rested on me.

“You, she would’ve noticed a mile down the beach,” I said and nudged him. There was no amusement on his face though, only something deeper, far harder to read. He stayed quiet, and we stood there together in the stillness, listening to the waves crashing onto the beach.

Out of nowhere, rain began to pour down in heavy sheets. Now, the enchanted sky didn’t look enchanted at all, only appearing as natural as the sky in the world above.

Ash glanced up too, clearly just as baffled by this sudden downpour.

The rain grew heavier, soaking us within seconds. I threw one hand over my head, and grabbed Ash’s hand with the other, pulling him back toward the path.

“Hurry! Let’s find somewhere dry,” I squealed as we ran together through the rain.

We reached Main Street, and I quickly scanned the area for shelter.

“There!” Ash pointed to a bright orange building. Through the windows, many tables were visible, while above the door was a sign readingBeachside Bistro.It was a restaurant.

We hurried inside, dripping wet, the rain still pounding against the windows behind us.

I probably looked like a drowned rat, with my hair plastered to my head and my clothes sticking uncomfortably to my skin. Ash, on the other hand, despite being just as soaked, somehow managed to look even better—water glistening in his black hairand tracing down his face like it was meant to be there, making him effortlessly sexy.

The restaurant had a casual beach vibe, the black-and-white checkered floor littered with sand from beachgoers coming and going. The bright coral walls were adorned with nautical-themed decorations and the air smelled of salt and seafood.

A sign near the entrance saidSeat Yourselfand a wall above the counter in the front displayed the menu. I quickly scanned my options, my stomach churning slightly.

Was every single item revolting, despicable seafood? It seemed so.

Scanning the menu again, my eyes landed on an entrée calledThe Shrimp Garden.

Chopped lettuce.

Chopped carrots.

Chopped onions.

Walnuts.

Topped with shrimp.

So, basically, a salad. I could always ask for no shrimp.

As we approached the counter, the sound of squabbling caught my attention. Two boys, both probably around my age, were loudly arguing over something.

“I told you, Fin, I had my wallet in my pocket at the beach.” The taller, slightly younger-looking boy with curly blonde hair was patting his pockets frantically.

“Check the bag with the towels again, Keo,” ordered the older boy, dark-haired and wearing a trendy pair of glasses.

Keo, the fair-haired one, suddenly stopped patting his pockets. “So … I might have changed shorts before we left the house. Just remembered.”

“Dammit, Keo,” Fin muttered, clearly fed up with his brother.

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