Page 83 of Surfer's Paradise

“Let me guess,” she said. “Horny and checking in?”

Rosie didn’t answer.

Just flipped the phone over, face-down on the table.

It buzzed again.

Amy lifted a brow. “Text?”

Another buzz.

Rosie let out a slow, exasperated breath, staring at her empty glass like it might have answers.

Buzz.

Amy tilted her head, watching her closely. “You gonna answer?”

Rosie inhaled sharply, sitting a little taller, shoulders squaring.

Then, without hesitation, she grabbed her glass, drained the last of her wine in one go, and set it down with a finality that echoed between them.

“Fuck that,” she muttered, eyes hard, voice steady.

“I’m done.”

Chapter 16

Isaac was too many beers in for a Tuesday night.

He wasn’t even sure how this had happened.

He’d come out to meet Elodie, tell her it was done, but that had somehow turned into meeting the guys and drinks with Shay and Chris. And that had somehow turned into a full-blown night out.

Now it was 10 p.m., and he was shitfaced.

And the worst part?

Rosie still wasn’t answering his calls.

His phone screen blurred in front of him as he stared at her name, the last four unanswered calls sitting there like a personal insult.

Isaac’s stomach twisted, something uneasy settling deep. He had a bad habit of not giving a shit. Not worrying. Not caring.

But this?

This was different.

Chris, just as drunk, nudged his beer against Isaac’s. “Dude,” he muttered, watching him scroll through his unanswered calls. “Stop stalking her.”

Isaac’s jaw tensed. “She’s fucking homeless.”

That shut them up.

Shay and Chris both froze, their beers mid-air.

Chris blinked. “Come again?”

Isaac ran a hand down his face, exhaling hard. “Yeah. Homeless. Living in some fucking LA studio warehouse with no bed, no shit, no nothing.” He shook his head, still pissed. “I’m making her stay with me until we sort that out.”

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