Page 95 of Without a Trace
“It’s giving me whiplash,” I whispered back. “But like… rich girl whiplash.”
He grinned.
Kane raised his glass. “To hiding in style.”
We all toasted.
Even Trace. His glass tapping against mine with a quiet clink.
Alden rolled his eyes. “You’re all idiots.”
“I’d rather be an idiot than a buzzkill,” I said, flashing him a sugar-sweet smile that dared him to challenge me.
Trace leaned back in his chair, muscles tense beneath his linen shirt “You always act like nothing gets to you.”
“Maybe nothing does.”
A pause.
Then Alden snorted. “Except tequila.”
The table cracked up.
It was stupid.
Warm.
Easy.
Trace reached for the wine, pouring another glass without looking up. Alden stole another bite of my dessert when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. Rhett drummed his fingers against the stem of his glass in rhythm with the waves lapping the shore. Kane leaned back with a lazy grin, kicking at Alden’s ankle under the table, calling him out without a word.
This was supposed to be dinner.
But it was a countdown.
And we were all pretending we didn’t feel the timer ticking.
Scarlett
Islipped off my heels at the edge of the deck and carried them in one hand as we followed the lantern-lit path down to the firepit. The sand was cool under my feet, soft and grounding after too much wine and too many things unsaid.
We sprawled into a lazy circle—me with a drink in one hand, my toes buried in the grainy hush of the beach, the fire crackling low and steady. The waves kept time behind us, slow and endless.
No one was trying to impress anymore. Not really.
Kane passed me the bottle, and I nodded my thanks.
The waves licked the shore behind us, steady and slow, the ocean pretending it wasn’t in on whatever we were becoming out here.
“You ever think about what you’d be doing if all this shit hadn’t happened?” I asked, voice loose, a little slurred.
“Dead probably,” Kane muttered.
Rhett laughed. “Jesus.”
“I mean it,” Kane said. “I wasn’t built for anything else. Not really.”
I tilted my head, studying him through the firelight. “You’re smarter than you pretend to be.”
