Page 11 of Surfer's Paradise

Shit.

Vlado’s head snapped back, his body staggering against the pavement. He went down fast, hand slapping the sidewalk as he groaned.

Isaac exhaled, rolling out his fist, shaking the sting from his knuckles.

Then—

“For God’s sake, Isaac!” Rosie’s voice, sharp and furious. “What is wrong with you?”

His head snapped back to her, and there it was. That fire in her eyes. Not fear. Not shock. Just pure, seething frustration.

He licked his bottom lip, smirking slightly. “What?”

Her jaw clenched. “Are you serious? You just—he’s not—God!”

Isaac tilted his head, stepping toward her again. The wrong move, but he was too far gone to care.

“You mad at me or at yourself, Rosie?” he asked, voice low.

Her breath hitched, her glare darkening. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

Her nostrils flared. “Don’t try to turn this into something it’s not.”

Isaac let out a slow breath, his hands dropping to his sides.

Then he chuckled.

Low. Dry.

“Too late,” he said.

Her lips parted, like she had something else to say. Something that might actually burn him.

But then—

Vlado groaned.

Isaac sighed, raking a hand through his hair, exhaling hard.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Alright, alright. I’ll let your soy boy live.”

Rosie’s eyes flashed. “You’re a fucking asshole.”

Isaac grinned. “Never said I wasn’t, doll.”

“I’m done with this. I’m done with you.” Her fingers twitched at her sides. Like she wanted to hit him.

Like she wanted to kiss him.

Like she wanted to burn the whole fucking night down and start over.

“Go home, Isaac,” she said finally, voice too soft.

He held her gaze, searching.

Then he sighed, stepping back.

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