Jaxon keeps his eyes on the road, but his smirk pops through, flashing me a side view of his dimple. "Of course, I do."
Something in my chest tightens. I study him carefully before asking, "Do you ever actually listen to it?"
His exhale is steady, like he doesn’t even have to think about it. "All the time."
I pause, caught off guard by his honesty.
I don’t know why it surprises me. ThisisJaxon. He doesn’t lie, doesn’t deflect—you ask a question, you get the truth. He says exactly what he means and means what he says.
We fall into a comfortable silence, the music filling the space between us. Familiar lyrics thread through the car, wrapping around old memories, ones I’m not sure either of us are ready to name.
And as I stare out the window, watching the world blur past, I realize something.
We’re not just driving to his parents’ house.
We’re headingbackto something.
Something that feels a lot like home.
The drive winds down as we pull off the highway, the familiar coastal air thick with salt and the scent of sea spray. I roll my window down slightly, letting the breeze rush in, my heart picking up speed as Jaxon turns down a quiet road lined with towering palm trees and sprawling beach homes.
And then, we’re there.
The Montgomery house sits just above the dunes, its pale blue siding crisp against the backdrop of the ocean. White shutters frame the windows, and the wraparound porch—one I’ve spentcountlessafternoons on—stretches out, leading to the wide deck that overlooks the sand. The smell of something warm and familiar drifts from inside, mixing with the salty air, and for a second, it’s like I’ve stepped back in time.
Jaxon throws the car into park, glancing at me. "Ready?"
I inhale slowly, then nod. "Yeah."
Before I can even get my seatbelt off, the front door swings open, and Jaxon’s mom rushes out, her face splitting into a wide grin. "Madison Blake, is that you?"
I barely have time to get out of the car before she pulls me into a hug, squeezing me so tight, I think I hear my ribs crack.
"Hi, Mama Montgomery," I laugh, wrapping my arms around her.
She pulls back just enough to cup my face, studying me like she’s making sure I’mreal. "Oh, sweetheart, it has beenwaytoo long. Look at you—still gorgeous as ever, but you’re not eating enough, are you?"
I snort, shaking my head. "Well, I have missed your cooking."
"Of course," she says matter-of-factly, looping her arm through mine as she drags me toward the house. "I haveso muchto catchup on with you, but first, you’re staying for dinner. Non-negotiable."
"That’s kind of why we’re here, Mom," Jaxon drawls, following behind us.
His mom gives him a look. "Oh, hush. You don’t get any credit for this. If I had waited onyouto bring her back, I’d be old and gray before it happened."
I grin as we step inside, my stomach immediately twisting with nostalgia. Everything isexactlythe same—the wide open kitchen, the massive windows letting in the golden glow of the setting sun, the sound of waves crashing just beyond the back deck.
Jaxon’s dad rounds the corner from the dining room, his easy smile settling something deep inside me. "Maddy, sweetheart, welcome back."
I smile, stepping into his hug. "Hi, Mr. Montgomery."
"How many times do I have to tell you to call me David?" he teases, squeezing my shoulder before stepping back.
I laugh. "Old habits die hard."
His mom pats my arm, already bustling back into the kitchen. "Alright, Jaxon, take her out back and get some fresh air while I finish up dinner."
I perk up. "I can help?—"
