Episode 3

For two full days, Lucas Ward refused to tell Eden what he meant.

That should have been illegal.

There were laws for fraud, trespassing, and stealing tiny shampoo bottles from resort bathrooms. Surely there should have been one for smiling like a man with blackmail material and then walking away with an iced coffee.

Eden tried to corner him after the beach tour. He vanished into a donor lunch.

She tried again outside the tennis courts. He pointed at a fake emergency text and disappeared behind a hedge.

By the third afternoon, Eden had moved past embarrassment and into a state of spiritual exhaustion.

"Maybe it's better not knowing," Sophie said as they walked through one of Cypress Cove's covered corridors, where white curtains moved in the ocean breeze and everything smelled faintly of sunscreen and expensive flowers.

"That is something people say right before finding out they joined a cult."

"You did not join a cult."

"Did I sign anything?"

"No."

"Did I sing?"

Sophie hesitated.

Eden stopped walking. "Sophie."

"You hummed. Briefly."

"I need a new identity."

"You need lunch."

"I need Lucas."

"You need to stop saying that like you're hunting him for sport."

Eden spotted him twenty seconds later near the lobby doors, talking to Harper Quinn with the relaxed posture of a boy who had never once worried about a bank account, a bad haircut, or public humiliation becoming his brand.

She pointed. "There."

Sophie sighed. "Try not to tackle this one too."

Lucas saw Eden coming and had the audacity to look amused.

"Callahan."

"Ward."

Harper glanced between them. "Should I leave?"

"Only if you object to justice," Eden said.

Lucas lifted one brow. "Dramatic."

"Tell me what happened after the pool."

"You fell in. Hutton helped you out. I escorted you away."

"That is the brochure version."

"It's a tasteful brochure."

"Lucas."

Something in her voice must have worked, because his amusement softened. He looked past her, toward the training path that ran behind the resort, where a few Fairhaven players were cutting across the lawn in practice gear.

Hutton was with them.

Cap low. Shoulders broad. Moving like he was conserving energy for something more important than walking.

Eden tried not to look.

She looked.

Lucas noticed. Of course he did.

"Fine," he said. "But you asked."

Her stomach tightened.

"After the pool," Lucas said, "you insisted you were perfectly fine. You were not. You kept slipping. Hutton picked you up because you nearly tripped over a lounge chair."

Eden's mouth went dry.

"Picked me up how?"

"Like a person carries someone who is wet, drunk, and too stubborn to admit she cannot walk straight."

"That is not a measurement."

"Bridal style, if you insist on suffering."

Harper made a soft, delighted sound.

Eden closed her eyes.

"Keep going," she said, because apparently she hated herself.

"You thanked him for being alive."

"I knew that part."

"You told him he had very serious eyes."

"I did not."

"You did."

"Did he respond?"

"He said, 'Do I?'"

That sounded like Hutton. Dry. Impossible. Annoyingly calm while Eden turned her life into a cautionary tale.

Lucas continued, "Then you touched his face."

Eden's eyes flew open.

"I what?"

"You touched his cheek. Very gently, actually. Then you said, 'Don't be sad in pretty places.'"

The corridor went strangely quiet.

Even Harper stopped smiling.

Eden looked toward the training path again.

Hutton had stopped near the edge of the lawn while Simon Jonas talked animatedly beside him. For one second, Hutton's head turned, and his gaze met hers across the distance.

Heat rushed up Eden's neck.

"Anything else?" she asked weakly.

Lucas gave her a look that suggested he was deciding whether mercy suited him.

It did not.

"You kissed him."

Harper gasped.

"I did not," Eden said.

"Not his mouth," Lucas said quickly. "His cheek. More of an accidental face collision with intent."

"That sentence should not exist."

"You asked."

Eden pressed both hands to her face. Behind her palms, the world was dark and survivable.

Then Harper whispered, "Honestly, I'd die, but in a good way."

"Harper."

"Sorry."

Eden dropped her hands.

Across the lawn, Simon had noticed them. He elbowed Hutton, said something, and grinned.

Hutton did not grin back.

He was still looking at Eden.

Not mocking. Not irritated. Just steady, and that made it worse. If he had laughed, she could have hated him for five minutes and recovered. But he watched her as if the memory belonged to him too.

Eden turned on Lucas. "I need to apologize."

"Probably."

"You could have led with that."

"And deprive you of personal growth?"

"I am going to grow into violence."

Harper laughed, and even Lucas smiled.

Eden did not wait for more commentary. She crossed the lawn before she could lose her nerve.

The Fairhaven players slowed when she approached. A few looked her over with open curiosity. Simon's grin widened.

"Pool girl," he said.

Hutton's gaze cut to him.

Simon lifted both hands. "Respectfully. Heroically."

Eden stopped in front of Hutton. Up close, he was even taller than memory had allowed. The cap shaded his eyes, but she could feel them on her.

"Hi," she said.

"Eden."

One word. Her name. It should not have been able to do anything to her pulse.

It did.

"I need to apologize."

Simon leaned toward one of the players. "This is already my favorite day."

Hutton ignored him. "For the pool?"

"For the pool, for the tackling, for being carried, for touching your face, and for any face-adjacent contact that may have occurred during a period of impaired judgment."

A beat passed.

Hutton's mouth twitched.

"Face-adjacent."

"It's a legal category."

"Is it?"

"It is now."

Simon made a sound like he was choking.

Hutton looked down at her for a long second. The wind tugged at the brim of his cap, flashing the blue of his eyes.

"You were trying to help," he said.

"Very badly."

"Still help."

The simple generosity of that landed harder than Eden expected. She had prepared for teasing. Irritation. A cold dismissal. She had not prepared for him to give her back the best version of herself.

Her fingers tightened around the folded paper in her hand.

She had written it that morning after waking up at five and staring at the ceiling in horror. A ridiculous note. Too small for the size of the apology, but something in her had wanted to give him proof that she could be normal. Or at least sincere.

"I also brought you this," she said.

Hutton looked at the paper.

"What is it?"

"A note. Obviously."

"Why?"

"Because I heard there's a scrimmage thing later, and apparently people say good luck before sports happen."

"A scrimmage thing."

"I am new to the culture."

Simon put a hand over his heart. "She wounds us."

Eden ignored him and held out the folded paper.

Hutton did not take it right away.

For one breath, she wondered if she had misread everything. Maybe he had only been polite. Maybe he did not want reminders of the strange girl who had mistaken his bad mood for a tragedy and dragged him into a pool.

Then his fingers closed around the note.

They brushed hers.

Barely.

Still, Eden felt it all the way up her arm.

"Good luck, Hutton," she said, quieter than she meant to.

He unfolded the note.

Eden's handwriting looked too round, too earnest, suddenly childish against his big hand.

Don't be sad in pretty places.

Win your scrimmage thing.

- Eden

Hutton read it once.

Then again.

His face did not change much, but something in him went very still.

"It's stupid," Eden said quickly. "You can throw it away."

His eyes lifted.

"No."

The word was quiet.

Final.

He folded the note carefully, once, then again along the same crease she had made. Instead of handing it back, he slipped it into the worn leather wallet he pulled from his pocket.

Eden stared.

"You're keeping it?"

"You gave it to me."

As if that explained everything.

As if it should.

A whistle blew somewhere near the practice field. Coach Cole, Eden assumed, though she did not know him yet. The players started moving.

Simon fell into step beside Hutton, then looked at the wallet in Hutton's hand, then at Hutton's face.

He stopped smiling.

Not all at once. Slowly, like he had noticed the joke had teeth.

"Man," Simon said under his breath. "Are you serious?"

Hutton slid the wallet back into his pocket.

His gaze stayed on Eden for one more second.