Page 96 of Surfer's Paradise

“You want to know why I’m mad?” she cut in, her voice breaking, cracking under the weight of it all.

Isaac went still.

She let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head, tipping her face to the sky like she was trying not to cry.

And then, she let it loose.

“I heard you, Isaac.”

His stomach tightened.

She laughed bitterly. “A fucking year ago, I heard you.”

Isaac stared at her, his brain scrambling, trying to keep up.

“What are you talking about?”

Rosie took a step closer, jabbing a finger into his chest.

“That night, after we all went out. I came outside, and you were smoking with Chris and Shay. And Chris—drunk asshole that he is—asked if you’d ever fucked me.”

Isaac’s body went stiff.

“And you—” She let out a harsh, humorless breath, shaking her head, voice quiet now, bitter and raw.

“You laughed,” she whispered.

Isaac swallowed hard.

“You laughed,” she repeated, staring right at him, like she wanted to fucking break him. “And then you said, ‘Fucking never. Not my type. Never. No way. Never ever.’”

Her voice mimicked his own, spitting the words like venom, shoving them between his ribs.

Isaac felt like the fucking wind had been knocked out of him.

“Rosie,” he rasped.

She shook her head, her breath coming fast and uneven.

“You said it like I was disgusting,” she whispered. “Like the idea of touching me was so fucking unthinkable that it was funny.”

Isaac’s chest felt tight.

Like something was cracking apart inside him.

“Jesus, I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what?” she snapped. “Mean it? Didn’t think I’d hear? Didn’t think it would matter? That I would matter?”

“That’s not what I fucking meant, Rosie!” he snapped back, his voice sharp, his hands gripping his hair.

“THEN WHAT DID YOU MEAN?” she screamed, every inch of her shaking.

He opened his mouth—

And nothing came out.

Because fuck, he didn’t know.

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