Page 24 of Surfer's Paradise

Isaac pulled her a few blocks up, threw Rosie’s duffel into the truck bed, then turned back to her, expecting her to climb in.

She didn’t.

She just stood there. Silent. Fuming. Not moving an inch.

Isaac blinked, confused. She always listened to him in situations like this. Even when she bitched and glared, she still got in the damn truck.

But this wasn’t like before.

This was new.

This was Rosie, furious in a way he’d never seen.

He exhaled, tipping his head back toward the sky before looking at her again. “Come on, I’ll drive you. Where are you going?”

Nothing.

She just shook her head.

Isaac’s stomach tightened.

“Rosie,” he tried again, lower, softer now. “Where are you staying while you’re in town?”

A beat.

Then—finally—“A hostel.”

Isaac’s jaw locked.

A hostel.

Nope. Didn’t like that.

He leaned back against the truck, crossing his arms. She was hiding something. He could always tell when she was hiding something.

“How long?” he asked, shifting gears, testing the waters.

She hesitated. “This week. Maybe next.”

“But you’re going back to L.A. after that?”

She nodded. “I can’t stay forever.”

Something about the way she said it made his skin prickle.

Not I don’t want to stay.

I can’t.

A weight settled in his chest. She meant she couldn’t afford it.

His eyes flicked over her face, searching. She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

She was so fucking proud.

“Why not stay with our friends?” he asked, keeping his tone casual. “You know people here.”

She shrugged, noncommittal. “Didn’t want to burden anyone.”

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