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As we all shrug on our coats and head out to my car, Joy gives me a reassuring smile, and I try to relax. If Lane’s not worried about him losing his shit, maybe I shouldn’t be.

Doug doesn’t ask before getting into the front passenger seat, but neither Joy nor Lane miss a beat, climbing into the back. I open my mouth to speak, but Doug reaches forward and turns on the radio, and I press my lips together.Message received.

It’s the strangest thing. Ninety percent of the time, Doug McMann is as friendly as a thunderstorm, but every now and again, a glimpse of sunshine manages to break through the clouds; and it’s so warm and glorious, it makes the storm worth weathering. It makes you believe that if you can just hold out long enough, the sun might come out for good. It’s that hope that pulls me toward Doug, despite his thundery exterior, and it’s what keeps my mouth closed as we drive in silence to Lincoln City. Well, almost silence. Joy and Lane sit, talking quietly and giggling in the back while my fingers tighten on the steering wheel.

It's the longest two and a half hours of my life and by the time I park up, I’m in the worst mood I’ve been in all year. Doug gets out of the car without so much as a thank you, stalking toward the path that leads down to the sand without a backwards glance.

I try not to slam my door as I climb out, watching his retreating figure disappear between the dunes. A gentle hand against my cheek pulls my attention, Joy’s thumb stroking the tensed muscle of my jaw.

“Give him time,” she says, sliding her other arm around my waist, under my coat. “Don’t let him get to you.”

“Too late,” I mutter.

Joy frowns then rises onto her toes and presses a kiss to my lips. “Can I try and cheer you up?”

I give her a half smile. “Thanks for trying, but I think I’m a lost cause.”

Lane rounds the Jeep with the cooler of food and beer and gives me an apologetic smile. “We’ll get through to him. His shell is thicker from being home with his shitty family. We’ll have it cracked before long between the three of us.”

I frown at the mention of Doug’s family, and as Lane heads off down the path toward the beach, I’m left wondering. I thought he and Doug hated each other. How the hell does Lane know about his family? Joy doesn’t seem to notice my hesitation, and she grabs my hand, tugging me away from the car.

The sound of the sea and the bright blue sky push and pull at my mood as we pass through the low dunes, and when the vast expanse of the Pacific finally comes into view, I think that maybe, Lane might be right.

DOUG

Standing on the beach, the cold air whipping off the waves as I stare at the never-ending horizon, my problems seem to shrink by the second. Sitting at home, stewing in my own filth, it was easy to think that my world was slowly crawling to a halt—finally reaching its pitiful demise. But out here, as I breathe the salt air into my lungs, I can almost taste the hope and possibility.

Voices carry to me on the wind and I try to ignore the uncomfortable twinge in my gut. I hadn’t expected anyone to come looking for me. Drew and Mika have called and messaged a few times, but I’ve blown them off. I didn’t tell them when I’d be back from the UK, so I’m assuming they think I’m still there.

I’m not sure whose idea it was to drag me out of the house today, but it fills me with an uncomfortable warmth, and my nose wrinkles at the unfamiliar feeling. I’m someone people tolerate. I always have been. Drew and Mika keep me around, but only when it’s all three of us and only when we’re drinking. I’m not saying they don’t care about me, but we have a different kind of friendship. They wouldn’t come to me with their problems any more than I’d go to them with mine. I know Drew and Mika have lunch together often and no one invites me. Maybe they did at the beginning. I can’t remember. So, these three tossers turning up, wanting to spend time with me,by choice?Quite honestly, it’s thrown me for a loop.

“McMann!” Masters shouts. “Get your ass over here.”

I bite back a smile, schooling my features into a scowl before turning and heading over to the huge plaid blanket they’ve laid out. The section of beach we’re on is completely deserted. Which isn’t surprising at midday on a Friday in early February.

“Great weather for a fucking picnic,” I say as I sit down, pulling my collar up around my neck against the wind.

Masters cracks open a can of beer and shoves it at me. “Shut up and drink.”

I accept the can and watch as Joy opens the cooler, pulling out flasks and bags of crisps.

“What’s with all the flasks?” I ask when she’s balanced four of them on the blanket. “Are we playing a drinking game?”

“It’s soup, you idiot,” she says. “We knew it would be cold. Not exactly bread and cheese weather.”

That’s actually really smart, and I nod appreciatively. “In that case, maybe spirits would have been better than beer.”

Masters reaches into the cooler and pulls out a bottle of rum. “There’s only one beer each, then we’re on to the hard stuff. Well. Except for Mr. Grump over there.”

I follow his line of sight to where Aldo is sitting, his arms wrapped around his knees as he stares out at the ocean. “Why are you grumpy?”

Aldo just glances at me out of the side of his eye then returns his attention to the waves. I look back at Masters, but he just shrugs and twists his beer into the sand before reaching for his flask of soup.

“He’s pissed because you ignored him the whole way here,” Joy says, blowing through the small hole in the lid of her soup flask.

I frown at Aldo even as guilt yanks at my gut. “I wasn’t ignoring you. I just wasn’t ready to talk.”

“I know,” he says.

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