I glance at his face, just inches away. I can see every freckle on his forehead. The edge in his voice when he was talking to Noah and Harrison has smoothed. Flattened. Some switch has flipped. I can’t tell if it was an act before or if it’s an act now or if neither is genuine.

It bothers me.

It shouldn’t.

“You should put something on it,” I tell him.

“I’d feel better if a doctor did it.” He manages to make the sentence sound normal while adding hidden meaning.

I narrow my eyes in response.

“There’s a huge swell coming in.” Emmett appears, gulps some water, then looks at me and Gray. I’m still crouched down beside his leg. “Sup, Evie?”

“Hey, Emmett.”

“What happened?” He nods toward Gray’s leg.

“Gray versus a rock. The rock escaped unharmed,” Noah summarizes.

Gray flips him off.

Emmett laughs. “I’m headed back out.”

“Me too.” Harrison stands.

Noah shoves himself up last. “You coming, Phillips?”

“Maybe in a bit.”

“Okay.”

All three guys disappear, leaving me and Gray. Alone.

I sit back on my heels. “I can put some Neosporin on it.”

He nods. I rifle through my bag and pull out the small plastic box.

“You travel with your own medical kit?” He sounds amused.

“Yep.” I squeeze some ointment out of the tube, dab the cut, and then wipe my fingers on my towel. A laughable use of my medical skills, but better than nothing. I figure a Band-Aid will just litter the ocean if he decides to surf again, so I leave the wound uncovered.

“Thanks,” he says quietly.

“Yep,” I repeat.

I’m silent. He’s silent. The waves are crashing and seagulls are cawing and people are laughing, but between us? There’s so much silence.

“I got promoted. From second lieutenant to captain.”

I look over; he’s still staring straight ahead. “Congrats.”

“Thanks.”

“Was it a big deal?”

I don’t know why I ask him the same question he basically just refused to answer. But then he does, and I realize why I asked it—because I wanted to know if he would answer me.

“I guess so. There was cake.”

“Most big deals have cake.”

He smiles, a small tug in one corner of his mouth that makes my stomach feel like it’s getting turned inside out. “True.”

“Your parents didn’t go…” It’s not a question. I’m still living next door. I know they didn’t.

“I didn’t tell them about it.”