Isla

28.

2 8 | l u c k y  b a y

SUMMER WAS ENDING QUICKLY. It was barely 7PM, and the sky had already turned a milky purple, blending into darkness. A smattering of pale stars poked through grey clouds, the moon shining large and yellow high above the horizon.

The ocean sang to the moon, pushing and pulling in sync, waves reaching for the constellations. I smiled at the sound, drawing the shutters of the Shack down and locking them in place.

We'd had a group booking that ended late today, so I'd stayed back to help Tom lock up and store the kayaks. Everett had gone off with River and Connor a few hours ago and still hadn't returned. I glanced at the time on my phone, wondering if I should wait for him here, when footsteps crunched on the sand behind me.

I spun, meeting Austin's soft brown eyes.

"Austin," I sputtered, blinking in surprise. What was he doing here at this time?

Reading my mind, he sent me a half-smile, his eyes darting around unsurely. "Hey, Isla. River told me you were working late today."

"Oh." He wrung his fingers together and I furrowed my brow at him – at the way his smile faltered and didn't quite reach his eyes. He was never like this. I stepped forward, worry suddenly clawing at me. "Are you okay?"

He avoided my eyes, offering a shrug. My lips thinned and I rested a hand on his shoulder, unsure.

"Austin," I said, my voice firm and cutting through the slowly darkening beach. His eyes snapped up to meet mine and I arched a gentle brow at him. "What happened?"

I watched as he took his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing on it for a moment in thought before shaking his head. His eyes dropped to the sand and he released a quiet sigh.

"I broke up with Mia."

His voice had gone so quiet, it was difficult to hear him over the rising waves lapping at the shore. I shuddered to a stop at his words, my worry silencing and my hands growing still.

His eyes remained steady on mine, dark brown in the fading light and full of questioning – barely a flicker of hurt within them.

"What?" I couldn't help but ask. "Why?"

He shook his head again, his brow wrinkling and lips twisting.

"I don't know. We weren't good together. I..." He paused, lifting a hand to rest over mine. "I missed you, Isla."

"Missed me?" I repeated, my eyes growing wide. Something deep in my chest stirred at the words.

He nodded, stepping closer, his fingers tightening around mine. "I missed hanging out with you every day. I missed going to Isla with you and picking you up for work. I missed driving home with you, sunburnt and exhausted."

"But, Austin," I shook my head, confusion clouding my eyes, "she was your girlfriend. Us... We're just friends."

"But you want to be more than that."

My heart sunk into my stomach, lodging firmly and sending a wave of nausea through me. My vision blurred and I was sure I had swayed at the impact of his words. I rested a hand on the wall of the Shack, steadying myself.

"What do you mean?" I croaked, my voice coming out weak.

"Isla," he said, my name a breath on his lips – a whisper of wind over gushing waves. "I know you like me. As more than a friend. That you've liked me since primary school."

"What?" I sputtered, blinking. My face flushed, warm with embarrassment. "You've known this entire time? Why didn't you ever say anything?"

"I wasn't sure, Isla," he said, nonchalantly. He stepped closer and I felt trapped, suffocated by his presence. Our bodies were an inch from each other, his heat radiating onto me. When had I stopped craving that warmth?