Page 6 of Until Forever Falls

A frown shadows her expression, but with a reluctant nod, she acknowledges it. “Alright. Don’t keep me waiting too long.” She bites her lip, as if debating whether to stay, then finally gives me one last look before retreating to find her friends.

Colt bursts into laughter as soon as she’s out of earshot. “Dude, she’s still got it bad. You know she’s not giving up anytime soon, right?”

I sigh, shaking my head. “Yeah, well, I learned my lesson the first time.”

Colt claps me on the shoulder. “You dodged a bullet if you ask me,” he says before spotting someone across the beach and jogging off without another word.

I barely acknowledge it, my focus drifting as Miles steps up beside me.

“Tell me that wasn’t as painful as it looked,” he mutters.

I huff out a laugh. “Trust me, it was worse.”

Miles shakes his head, but before he can say anything else, my attention snags on two figures beyond the edge of the sand. Beckett has just shown up—and he’s not alone. I zone in on the girl beside him. Even in the low light, I recognize her from the diner—black curls framing light blue eyes that make it impossible to tell what she’s thinking. Then it clicks. The resemblance between her and Beckett is undeniable. Their shared features, the way they move—it’s obvious. They’re siblings.

I elbow Miles, signaling toward them. “Yo, Beckett is here—and he brought someone along.”

Miles casts a quick glance, intrigue lighting up his expression. “Oh shit, didn’t expect that.”

“Yeah…she was at Ruby’s earlier.” I try to sound indifferent, but the longer I look, the harder it is to ignore the feeling creeping under my skin.

Graham steps up beside us, catching the tail end of the conversation. “Who are we talking about?”

I gesture subtly toward Beckett and his sister, and the three of us weave through the crowd, dodging groups of people sprawled out on blankets and huddled around coolers. Beckett spots us approaching and raises a hand in greeting, a grin spreading across his face. His sister, however, seems a little more reserved. She scans me, then the others, as if she’s already sizing us up.

And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping to pass the test.

4

Dylan

Then

The bonfire crackles, sending flickering shadows over the beach as Beckett and I arrive. The soft glow highlights clusters of people, their laughter and easy conversation making it feel like everyone here has known each other forever. I trail after my brother, willing away the nerves that crept in the moment we hit the sand. Maybe enduring an evening with Mom and her new boyfriend would’ve been the easier choice.

Beckett catches my hesitation and nudges me forward, grinning. He knows me too well. I’d rather be alone, sketching or painting, than stuck making small talk with strangers.

“Yo, appreciate the invite,” he calls out as a few guys approach. “Figured I’d bring my twin sister along. Hope that’s cool.”

I glance up just as one of the guys looks over, and my breath catches. It’s him—the boy from the diner. He barely acknowledged me then, but somehow, it was enough to set my nerves alight.

His gaze locks onto mine, and for a moment, the noise, the fire, the entire beach fades away.

Beckett gestures loosely to the group. “Dylan, this is Graham and Miles,” he says, but the names barely register. “And that’s Brooks—”

There’s an intensity in his stare, a natural self-assurance that sends my heart racing. He’s tall, effortlessly magnetic, and the way he carries himself—laid-back yet commanding—sets him apart, even in a crowd.

Brooks narrows his eyes slightly, as if he’s trying to place me, and suddenly, it feels like the whole world is watching us.

“Not a problem at all,” he comments, a dimpled smile spreading slowly across his face—one that feels meant just for me. Rosy pink blooms across my cheeks, and I pray the blush isn’t as obvious as it feels.

The moment unfortunately breaks when one of the other guys—Miles, I think Becks said—speaks up. “You two thirsty?”

“Hell yeah,” Beckett drawls, pulling me in with a relaxed arm around my shoulder. “What do you have?”

“Not much—just beer, beer, and…” Miles snorts, rummaging through the cooler before tossing two cans our way with a chuckle. “More beer. But don’t worry, it’s good stuff.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, accepting the drink and forcing a smile. My eyes immediately flick up to Beckett. “Becks, promise me you won’t overdo it tonight. You know I can’t drive your truck home.”

---