[BOOK2]
*****
I want her.
I want her more than I've ever wanted anything.
But I can't have her. Because the moment I admit that out loud, the moment I risk everything we've built, I could lose her.
And losing Isla? That's not an option.
*******
Is...
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The beach house is just as it's always been—warm, familiar, the cozy scent of the ocean mixed with old wood and sunscreen lingering in the air. But with Theo beside me, it feels different. There's an undercurrent I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try. I'm sitting cross-legged on the worn couch while Theo's sprawled out next to me, his arm casually draped across the backrest, fingers just inches from my shoulder.
Lewis and Becca are across from us, lost in a debate about which snacks are "bonfire essentials." But my focus is elsewhere, pulled into every small movement Theo makes, the way his knee keeps brushing mine, his soft chuckles filling the room. I'm trying so hard to ignore him, but it's nearly impossible with his gaze cutting my way every few seconds.
"So, Isla," Theo says, his voice carrying that mischievous lilt that always gets to me, "what's got you so deep in thought over there?"
I roll my eyes, looking down at my hands. "Oh, you know, just mentally preparing for another night of Lewis burning marshmallows. And probably myself, too."
He snickers, nudging me with his elbow. "Come on, I know there's more going on in that head of yours. You're practically zoned out."
"Well, I wouldn't have to zone out if you weren't sitting here bothering me," I quip, giving him a pointed look.
He grins, leaning in slightly, his face just close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating off of him. "Is that what I am to you? A bother?"
I scoff, leaning back. "Always have been, Dwyers."
"Oh, I don't buy that for a second," he says, a lazy smile spreading across his face. "You love having me around. Admit it."
I tilt my head, pretending to think it over. "Hmm, let me think... Nope. I'd say you're more like an annoying fly I can't get rid of."
Theo laughs, his eyes lighting up. "An annoying fly? Brutal." He pauses, clearly fighting back a smirk. "Maybe I'm the charming type of fly. You know, the one you secretly find endearing?"
I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile. "You wish."
Before I can say anything else, he casually stretches his arm over the back of the couch, his fingers brushing my shoulder in a way that feels all too intentional. I try to ignore the way it sends a rush of warmth through me, but he notices my reaction, his smirk widening.
"Relax, I'm just getting comfortable," he says, his tone innocent but his eyes anything but. "You're acting like I'm plotting something over here."
"Maybe you are," I say, giving him a challenging look. "You do have that scheming face."
He laughs, dropping his hand to his lap and shaking his head. "You know, you really do wound me, Isla."
"Somehow, I think you'll survive," I reply, unable to help the grin tugging at my lips.
