“Beach.” Jake nods his head in the direction of the ocean.

At that, my brow furrows in confusion as I narrow my eyes to see through the glare, finding a lone figure sitting on the white sand staring out at the water, his shoulders slumped as if he has the weight of the world resting upon them.

“What’s he doing out there?”

“I don’t know,” Kevin says with a mouthful of food. “He’s been a pissy little bitch all morning. Especially after he and Har—”

“Kevin!” Harley suddenly pipes up, his booming voice echoing throughout the morning, causing everything to stop.

I gape at him but he doesn’t say anything as he stands up from his chair, storming into the house. I look at the rest of the guys, seeking some semblance of an answer as to what the heck is even going on. But I get nothing more than a few awkward glances and a shrug from Seth before the guys begin talking more about last night, laughing and joking among themselves over something stupid one of them did, but I’m no longer listening. I try to eat my breakfast, at least what I can stomach of it, but my mind is elsewhere. I’m worried about Nash, and Harley, and I can’t stop thinking about what I was stupid enough to do last night with Harley, only for him to leave me in the morning like some kind of sleazy one-night stand.

And, at that thought, my mind wanders back to my ex-boyfriend, the once love of my life, and I begin to think how he would never walk out on a girl the morning after a night like the one I had shared with Harley last night. I silently chastise myself at those thoughts, shaking my head to dismiss them.

***

After breakfast, which was really just me pretending to eat bacon while trying to laugh along with the guys, avoiding Harley’s end of the table at all costs, I head down to the beach. Treading the hot sand, wincing as my feet burn, I stop just shy of Nash, looking down at him as he continues staring out at the waves.

“Hey.”

He doesn’t acknowledge me, but I take a seat beside him anyway, offering a sideways glance before looking out over the sparkling blue water.

“Is everything okay?”

Again, silence. I turn to him with a furrowed brow, shielding my eyes from the sun overhead, finding his face hard yet emotionless, and my confusion only grows. What the hell is up with him? I try not to roll my eyes at his mood.

“Hangover, or is it something more?” I press, nudging him playfully with my shoulder, and at that, I receive something similar to a scoff, and I expect him to be smiling, but instead he looks annoyed. I continue, despite his obvious attitude. “I know it’s something,” I begin. “You know you can talk to me.”

“I’m fine!” He looks at me this time, but his eyes contain something I hadn’t been expecting. He’s pissed. With me.