Page 27 of The Fight

Focusing on the ice swirling in my glass, I try and push it all away. It doesn’t even feel important anymore, not like it used to. The patio door swinging open catches my attention from the corner of my eye, and then I see her.

Blair.

The evening light catches her hair briefly as she moves down the steps. She’s wearing a dark green dress that fits her perfectly, simple but still elegant. And even from this distance, I can still see the discoloration on her face from when she was hit. Sure, it’s covered with makeup, but I can still make it out, and it makes my fists clench.

For a brief second, her gaze flickers across the crowd, but it doesn’t land on me. I shouldn’t care, but as she moves toward the edge of the patio, standing apart from the group of people in front of her, something shifts. She’s not mingling, not laughing or pretending to enjoy herself. She’s just there. A little isolated and alone, and I hate how that may make her feel.

I down the rest of my drink, then cut across to where she’s standing. I’m not sure what I’ll say once I make it to her since we haven’t spoken much since the fight, but I don’t want her alone.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

BLAIR

Clear View is an entirely new world tonight. The space is decked out like some sort of fever dream, all pristine white linens, fresh flowers, and champagne. It’s like every section of the place has been plucked from a wedding magazine. It’s hard to believe it’s even real.

People are mingling, glasses of expensive liquor in hand, talking in those soft, polite tones that only come out at places like this. The whole thing feels staged with no warmth, nothing real, just appearances. I glance around, trying to find something familiar, someone I can talk to, but all I see are people I’ve never met.

I walk to the edge of the patio and stare out again. I know I’m supposed to be here to support my mom, but honestly, it’s not my vibe. As I’m about to turn around and hide inside, someone steps beside me from the corner of my eye. When I turn to look, it’s Shay.

He looks over me with those impossibly blue eyes and that same broody, intense look he always has. For a split second, I feel that familiar knot in my stomach, but then he does something that surprises me. He doesn’t say anything—no snarky comment. He just stands there, and for some reason, itfeels different. Like he’s not trying to make me uncomfortable or make me feel small like he normally does.

His eyes flicker, but there’s no judgment, no typical sneer that usually follows when he’s in my orbit. It makes me feel a little less on edge. A little more grounded, somehow.

“Hey.” His voice is low and rough, but with an edge of something softer I’m not used to.

It’s strange. He’s the last person I’d expect to offer me any kind of peace, but at this moment, I find myself—oddly enough—relieved.

“Hey.”

“Wanna say fuck it and get out of here?”

My brows raise a touch. “Is it that obvious I don’t wanna be here?”

Shay shrugs. “Can’t say I blame you. It’s kind of a circus but with fewer lights and fewer acts.”

I laugh and extend my hand in front of me. “Lead the way. I don’t know this place like you.”

He chuckles, then tips his head. “Say less.”

As he starts stepping, I follow. We weave in between all of the tables and people until we reach the end of the engagement party chaos. My heels sink into the grass once we’re off the wooden dance floor that was transformed for all the guests, but I keep moving. Shay does too.

To my left, there’s a tennis and basketball court, and just beyond that is a boat dock, but Shay doesn’t lead us that way. Instead, we navigate right until the grass eventually turns to sand and we’re positioned on the club’s private beachfront. It isn’t insanely massive, but it is blocked from the public with huge, man-placed rocks. It gives us the smallest bit of privacy.

I slip off my heels and hang them on my thumb as we move closer to the water. The sand feels cool beneath my feet as we walk along the shore. The further we get from the party, themore the world seems to quiet down, like everything is slowing and giving me room to think. I take a deep breath, and for the first time since stepping inside Clear View, I feel calm.

I glance at Shay walking beside me silently with his hands shoved in his pockets. His jaw is tight, but there’s something softer in the way he carries himself here.

We walk in silence for a few moments, neither of us in a hurry, with the sound of waves filling the space between us. But then, out of nowhere, I find myself speaking.

“You know,” I start, pausing before I lower myself into the sand. “Everything feels different between us now.”

Shay doesn’t say anything at first, but his gaze stays locked on me as he sits down beside me. There is no surprise on his face, no confusion. Just something like acknowledgment.

“Yeah. I think we both knew it always would be. Between all the shit-talking and fighting, we were never really going to stay the same, were we?”

I shake my head, not trusting myself to say much more because I know he’s right. Thingsaredifferent now. For a while, I thought maybe I could keep pretending—pretending things would stay the exact same way they had been. Me hating him, him hating me. But I knew it wouldn’t last. Between the way my body engulfed in flames when he touched me or the way I would almost seek him out in any form—bad or good—I knew I was doomed. And I guess he felt the same too. The locker room the other night and everything that followed proved that.

“Where do we go from here, then?” I ask, looking into the distance of the waves on the surface of the ocean.

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