Rogue Wave by Isabel Jolie (reading eggs books txt) 📕

shoulder for a better view. He looked between the two of them, then back at me with disgust painted across his face. Judgment.

“What’re you doing?” he asked Gabe.

“Discussing business with Poppy. That’s all.”

He pulled out his wallet and dropped two twenties on the bar.

“Later.”

Gabe called out, “Man, our food isn’t even here yet.”

He pounded the few steps back to us and dropped a golf cart key onto the bar. “I’ll leave you the cart.”

“Man, just wait. We’ll be done in twenty.”

“I need to get out of here,” he grunted. “Walk will do me good.”

The lightning had abated, but the rain still poured down.

“What did he see that got him upset?” I asked as we all watched him disappear down the hallway.

Poppy’s entire face, neck, and chest flamed magenta.

“Poppy?” I asked.

“He saw my OnlyFans account. But why would that upset him? Is he religious?” she asked Gabe.

Gabe scratched his head, flummoxed. “Nah. I mean, he wasn’t. But who knows now? He’s a different guy, like night and day. The old Tate, he’d know everyone’s name, be laughing with everyone. He was everyone’s friend. Laidback. Loose. Now, he’s, like, I guess…he’s aged. We are older now,” he rambled to himself.

I leaned over to see his screen. It had gone into screensaver mode. It didn’t matter, anyway.

I pulled out my credit card and handed it to Poppy. “Here, use this to pay for me. I’ll get it back from you later. I’m going to go give him a lift home.”

Gabe’s hand engulfed mine. “Nah. I got it. Don’t worry about it. Tell him I’ll be home later.”

It didn’t take me long to catch up with Tate on Wynd Road. His lone, dark figure trudging down the right side of the asphalt wasn’t hard to pick out, given he was the only one walking in the downpour.

I pulled up beside him and shouted, “Get in. I’ll take you home.”

He waved his arm and shook his head.

“It’s pouring. Get in,” I repeated.

“I need the walk. Go home.”

He took the steps to an access point to the beach two at a time, then disappeared down the boardwalk into the darkness, as the rain hammered down and the pampas grass whipped in the wind.

I drove back to my tiny cottage, flustered. It wasn’t like Tate would melt in the rain. He wasn’t in danger walking home along the beach. But his reaction to whatever was on Poppy’s phone confused me. I picked up my phone to research OnlyFans, and it rang in my hand. The photo of Brandon and me lit the screen. I hesitated but answered. I promised him we’d still be friends.

“Hey, there. How goes it?”

“Good. Well, not good.”

“What’s wrong?” I propped a pillow up on the headboard of my bed and settled in, pulling a blanket around my legs.

“Tory’s pushing for us to move in together.”

“Wow. That’s fast.”

“Tell me about it.”

“But if you’re happy, why not? Isn’t that what you want?”

“I thought so. But I wanted it with the right girl.”

Heavy guilt weighed down on my chest. My mom had told me the feeling was similar to grieving, and maybe she’d been right. I did mourn the loss of the relationship Brandon and I had. But I suspected guilt played a much bigger part of this crushing sensation. I fell out of love. The silence across the line threatened to strangle me.

“You don’t think Tory is right for you? Nova said you were happy.”

“And hearing about me dating someone, that didn’t bother you at all?”

“Brandon…did—”

“You really are over me, aren’t you?”

“Brandon, I still love you—”

“But you’re not in love with me. I know. You’ve told me. Maybe one day I’ll fall in love with Tory. She’s definitely way more into sex than you ever were.”

“So, are you dating Tory?” I rubbed my forehead, confused. These weird games were part of the reason I didn’t always pick up when he called.

“Yes, I am. Does it bother you?”

“No! I told you, I want you to be happy.”

“Are you dating anyone?” A vision of Tate working on the loose screen came to mind, and my annoyance at Brandon evaporated.

“No.”

“You hesitated.”

“I’m not dating anyone. There is a guy that I kind of—”

“I don’t want to hear about it.”

I breathed in and exhaled loudly. Brandon and I had been around and around and around. But he still needed more time. Life would have been so much easier if I’d been happy with him. Regardless, he deserved someone who would make him happy. It occurred to me sitting in my dark room, listening to him breathe, that maybe my picking up the phone when he called wasn’t a kind thing to do. Not when he still hurt.

“Maybe I should let you go.”

“You already did that.”

“I mean—”

“I know what you mean. I’ll always love you, Luna Rey, you know that, right? Always.” His words faltered, and the guilt pressed down around my chest so hard it hurt to breathe.

“Bye, Brandon.” A better person could have come up with a better way to say goodbye. God knew I’d tried over the last two years. I curled up in my bed and traced my inked skin. One with the sea.

Chapter 9

Tate

As I was pouring my second cup of coffee, the door to the cottage creaked open. Gabe tiptoed in, head down, in stealth mode, until he saw me and straightened. He kicked off his flip-flops by the door and stepped around me for a mug with a conceited smirk plastered on his face.

“Have a good night?” I asked. Although I really didn’t need to. The answer was written all over his face.

“It was good.” He exhaled relief as he sipped his steaming black coffee.

“Awesome.” I tapped the counter with my fist then headed back out to the porch to drink my cup of joe and read more of the news. I had no desire to pry into his prior night’s experience. Back in college, sure, I would’ve been all over him, goading him on to tell all. Things changed.

He followed