Sailing West

43 • Homes

Chapter Song: Home by Phillip Phillips

In the weeks following Easton's wedding, Spencer and I were inseparable—spending time with my grandparents, Leona and Graham, and his extended family. I'd met more Fredericksen relatives at dinner parties than I could remember.

Each day seemed better than the one before. There were more overnight trips on Nordic Storm and more sunny days on the beach.

Even though I loved this amazing man, West Tenney was never far from my thoughts. I was worried about him. Some nights, I'd have nightmares of finding him with his lip bloodied and his father's hands around his throat.

I feared the invisible shard of his heart would always be buried inside of mine. Painful and sharp.

West and Spencer still talked, but I knew their relationship had taken a major hit after Easton's wedding. Spencer told me West was going back to the Naval Academy in the fall.

I don't know what was worse—having a taste of your dream before having it snatched away or living a lie forever.

West might be headed back to the Naval Academy, but he was still playing Lumière in Beauty and the Beast. Word from Marcus was that West had been getting messages from talent agents after the video of him playing piano and singing in New York went viral.

It made me wish West would take the opportunity and run. I wanted him to be happy.

I didn't dare say as much to Spencer. As honest and upfront as he was, West was the one subject Spencer carefully avoided. I wondered what West had told him that night. How much he divulged about our dance at Castle Hill, or the audition, or the fact that he was in love with me and had asked me to move to New York.

I didn't ask, and Spencer didn't say.

Losing West's friendship and light in my life wasn't easy, but it was a sacrifice I wanted to make for Spencer.

One warm night in August, just before Leona and I were preparing to tow our camper back to San Diego, Spencer and I sat down for a fancy meal with his parents at the yacht club in downtown Newport.

Before our meal came, Spencer took my hand in his. He was wearing an impish smile that I noticed was mirrored on his father's face. Chantal was sipping a glass of champagne, smiling too.

Suspicion prickled.

"So, Stella," Spencer began. "I was wondering if you knew of any nice places in San Diego?"

I gave him a confused look. "You'll have to be more specific. What kind of places? Restaurants? Bars?"

"Homes."

I took a sip of champagne, trying to avoid staring at his open collar and the suntanned skin beneath. He knew I liked it when he wore his shirt open like that.