Honestly, I was glad to have the excuse not to linger and chat. With my kiss with Chad still branded on my memory—and my lips—it was impossible not to feel the scorch of guilt. Yes, they were broken up, but I doubted she would see it that way. It wouldn’t matter that I didn’t want to be with Chad, or take something that was hers, but it still felt like a betrayal. And I knew that.

I pulled the door shut behind me and pretended not to see Penny’s face fall.

She touched the neck of one of the ginger-beer bottles. “I was thinking we could hang out. I just wanted to say thanks for handling…” Her hand fluttered between us. “You know, everything with Chad.”

“Yeah, no, absolutely.”

“You said he took it okay?” Penny paused, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. “He’s cool still being friends?”

After he kissed me, the only thing I was concerned with was pretending it hadn’t happened. We hadn’t talked about what the breakup would mean for him and Penny. We’d parted ways, both flustered and reeling from the mistake, and I’d beat a retreat back to my lighthouse. But under her scrutiny, I could only give a tense, jerky nod. What else could I do?

In the twinkling twilight, it had been so easy to let the world fade away. I could still see the recklessness in his eyes, feel the warm breeze against my neck. The chatter on the beach and the crashing of the waves. I could remember what it felt like to be a kid again and to want Chad to want me the way he wanted Penny. But I’d known, even before we kissed, that I wasn’t that girl anymore. That was what no one told you about the road not taken. You can’t go back to the start of something that was never yours to begin with. Sometimes you just had to deal with taking the wrong exit ramp.

Penny exhaled. “Well, thanks. It was pretty cool of you to help me out.”

I remembered the bite in her voice as she’d hustled me off her houseboat. My chest tightened. She was mistaken if she thought I’d had a choice in the matter. I didn’t want her to be fucking grateful now.

“Yeah,” I said, bringing my hand to my forehead to shade against the brilliant glare of the morning sun. “No problem.” I grabbed my bike from where it leaned against the candy-cane-striped lighthouse wall.

“We can bike down together?” Penny offered. Without waiting, she got back on her bike and used her heel to push back the kickstand.

The descent from my clifftop lighthouse wasn’t steep, but the road was narrow and winding. The breeze carried traces of azaleas and roses, tickling my nostrils and kissing my cheeks.