“Nash, what’s wrong?” I gape at him. “What did I do?”

He shakes his head, avoiding my eyes as he moves to get up. “Nothing, Murph,” he grunts, brushing sand from the back of his shorts, which catches in the breeze and blows right into my face. “You and me, we’re just fine.” And, with that, he turns and leaves.

Bewildered, I watch him stalk back up the beach toward the house as I wipe the sand from my eyes, and a million confusing thoughts worry my mind. He’s angry with me. Me. What the hell did I do? Maybe he’s upset because I took him home early last night. Maybe I said something to him in my drunken state that I can’t remember. In our fifteen years of friendship, I can’t actually ever remember a time when Nash has been angry with me. Sure, we’ve had fights and arguments, but they were silly and quickly forgotten. Hell, even after we broke up he called me the next day to tell me about something hilarious that had happened to him on the subway.

I feel sick to my stomach. Pulling my knees up to my chest I press my lips together as I stare out over the water, and what was beautiful only moments ago now seems wild and dangerous, and threatening. The longer I watch the violent waves crashing to the shore, the more my heart sinks. I’ve never felt more alone. I just want to go home and pretend as if this stupid trip never happened.

I meet the guys back up at the house after collecting my emotions, but when I find my overnight bag dumped on the floor by the front door with the others, I can’t help but notice Harley’s absence.

“Where’s Harley?” I ask Seth.

He turns to me with a confused look. “He left …”

He what? I feel my face fall and I assume he notices.

“Something about stopping in Atlanta for something for the bar …” He quirks a dubious brow, looking closer. “Y-you didn’t know?”

I swallow the lump at the back of my throat, feeling tears prick my eyes. He left without me. He couldn’t even stand the drive back to Graceville with me in his truck. I want to cry but, instead, I manage somehow to force a smile onto my face, nodding quickly. “Oh, yeah.” I shrug. “I forgot all about that,” I lie as convincingly as I can manage.

“You’re riding with me in the Ferrari, Murph.” Kevin walks up behind me and I turn to see him twirling his keys around his finger, giving me a cocky grin.

“You mean your beat-up old Dodge?” I scoff.

He chuckles and rolls his eyes at my correction before reaching down and picking up my bag. Although I can manage it myself, I don’t bother stopping him. Instead, I follow him and Seth outside onto the front porch just in time to see Nash getting into his rental car without so much as a goodbye, and that only adds to the pain and suffering of the war of emotions stirring deep down inside of me.