Page 239 of Reverse

I make it to Natalie just as her toes reach the water. Her skin sun-kissed despite her pale complexion, her wild curls blowing in the breeze. Aside from the lights of the resort a fair distance away, we’re shadowed in darkness by the night sky. A blanket of stars hovers above us, the moon absent. Even so, I can make out her profile, her light blue sarong coverup outlining her frame as the ocean breeze whips it against her.

“I haven’t seen stars like this since our honeymoon. These look so much further out of reach,” she whispers softly over the sounds of the harsh breeze.

While Mom would undoubtedly call this collision an act of fate, I decide the time stamp Stella Crowne deems such a cosmic sign is insignificant when it comes to me. As of tonight, I’m relabeling fate’s definition—hell.

The mere sight of Natalie on this beach already has faint anger simmering beneath while my heart simultaneously threatens to swell familiarly in my chest. With every second that passes, a memory threatens both good and bad. Mostly good, of her, of us. Throat dry, buzz kicking in, I take a long, much-needed drink of her before I stow it away, leaving myself only one thought.

Why?

Why is life so fucking cruel to let me see her like this, if she can’t be mine? If I can no longer be hers. If we weren’t meant for one another in the way I once so adamantly believed—to the point it made me sick.

Fuckingwhy?

“Make plans, and God laughs,” Natalie recites from feet away, answering my question without being aware of it. “I’ve been talking to myself in bumper stickers, memes, slogans, and mottos all day. I’d say it’s appropriate for the present moment, don’t you think?” She glances over at me, her eyes glassy. “God’s probably laughing his ass off right now.”

“You know I’m not going to be able to leave you here. You know that, right?”

“I don’t want to ruin your night, but I don’t want to go to my room—yet. I’m not . . . I’m not your responsibility, Easton.”

“I’m not leaving you here,” I state firmly.

“Then I’ll text Damon.” She pats down her dress as if her phone will appear. “No phone. Shit, I don’t even have my room key.”

I pull my phone out and unlock it before extending it towards her.

“I don’t know his number,” she frowns, “I’ve known him my whole life. Is that bad?”

“Does anyone know anyone’s number?” I manage a hint of a smile, not feeling an ounce of it.

“206-792-5959,” she recites, her eyes boring into mine before darting them away.

“It hasn’t changed,” I tell her because the number she just sounded off ismine.So, why didn’t she ever fucking use it?

Don’t go there, East. Dead and buried horse.

“But we have. We’ve changed, haven’t we?” She grins over at me. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks. You too.”

“We’re close to grownups by now, aren’t we? We don’t get to use our age as an excuse for stupid and reckless anymore,” she says in a mournful tone. “I think maybe it’s no longer allowed at twenty-four.”

“Is that so?”

Our eyes connect and hold.

Goddamnit.

“Easton,” she sighs. “I’m okay. Really. I don’t need Damon to get back to my room. Please go,” she swallows, “toher.”

“And what? Pretend I didn’t see you trashed on the fucking beach at the same resort?”

“Precisely,” she answers with a firm dip of her chin.

“I’m going to tell her.”

“As you should,” she says as I try and fail not to memorize the way she looks wrapped in silk, tan skin, her bare feet and polished toes washed in white foam.

“We can switch hotels,” I offer.