Page 21 of Without a Trace
Scarlett
The sun glinted off the water in shards of silver, broken up by the ripples Kane made as he swam circles around Rhett like some kind of overgrown child. I floated farther out, letting the soft lull of the current carry me a few feet beyond them. Far enough that their laughter faded into background noise. Still close enough that I could still feel them—pulling at me, invisible, and unshakable.
Rhett had pulled Hemingway onto a warm flat rock, towel-drying his squashed little face with quiet patience. Kane was half-laughing, half-drowning, still trying to rile everyone up, incapable of sitting still.
And Alden—he was near the shore, standing half in the water, half out, arms crossed, watching everything and nothing all at once. There was something unreadable in his face, something I didn’t have the courage to look at too long.
I wiped water from my lips and squinted toward the rock wall at the far edge of the cove. A darker patch just beyond it catching my eye—like the edge of something hidden.
I swam toward it without thinking, arms slow, legs lazy, water cooling as I reached the shaded area, and that dark slit in the rock became clearer. Not a cave exactly. More of an overhang—a tiny stone grotto, half-hidden, only reachable from the water. Just big enough to tuck under and float in the silence.
Ducking beneath the overhang, I emerged into a hush so still it felt stolen. The air was cooler. The water darker, deeper. My heartbeat slowed, but only just.
Leaning against the stone, chest rising and falling, I forgot about all of it. The noise. The pressure. The way Trace looked at me when he thought I wouldn’t notice.
A splash behind me broke the solitude.
I turned just as he emerged through the narrow gap. Wet hair. Water dripping down his neck. His eyes locked on mine like he’d been swimming in a straight line toward me his whole life.
“You alright?” he asked, voice low, like the grotto itself was listening.
I nodded, breath catching. “Just needed a minute.”
He floated right by me, his chest moving up and down just like mine. We were both stuck, like we were connected by an invisible string.
“I used to find spots like this when I needed to disappear,” he said eventually. “Places nobody could reach me.”
I looked at him, really looked. His face was unguarded, the usual armor he wore around the others slipping just enough to show me something raw—something he wasn’t sure he wanted seen.
“Did it work?”
He hesitated. “Sometimes. Other times… I didn’t want to be alone as much as I thought I did.”
The water lapped quietly around us, urging us together, the shadows danced on the cave walls. Light drifted through the grotto, slow and deliberate.
“I’m not good at this,” I whispered. “Being seen. Letting people in.”
“Neither am I.”
And just like that, we were standing on the edge of something neither of us had language for. Not love. Not lust. Just… ache.
His hand moved—barely. Almost as if he thought about reaching for me but stopped himself. His fingers hovered between us in the water, a silent question hanging between us.
And I almost did it. I almost touched him back. Almost let myself fall forward into whatever this was.
“We should head back.” I sighed.
He didn’t argue. Just gave a single nod, clipped and tense. And we swam out from under the grotto in silence.
When we surfaced, the sun had shifted. The others were still messing around, blissfully unaware I had just floated at the edge of a cliff I didn’t even know existed.
Trace didn’t follow me back to shore.
And I didn’t turn around to see if he was watching.
But I felt it, a pulse I couldn’t quiet.
Something had shifted. And I didn’t know how to put it back.
