She whirls around, waving me off. "Absolutely not. You’re a guest tonight. Go enjoy the view."
“You heard her.” Jaxon smirks, nodding toward the back door. "Come on, Mads. Let’s go."
I hesitate, but there’s no arguing with Mama Montgomery. Laura is a lot of things, and stubborn is one, so I follow her son through the sliding glass doors onto the back deck, the warmth of the setting sun wrapping around me as my gaze sweeps over the view.
It’s stunning. Italwayshas been. The waves stretch endlessly toward the horizon, the tide rolling in soft and rhythmic, the sand below pristine and untouched this late in the day. The salty breezebrushes against my skin, and I close my eyes for a second, breathing it in.
"When’s the last time you hit the beach?" Jaxon asks suddenly, leaning against the railing beside me.
I blink, opening my eyes. I swallow, my fingers tightening around the wooden railing. "The last time I was here."
Jaxon’s head jerks toward me, his brows pulling together. "Wait. You’re telling me…you haven’t been back to the beach in three years? Not once?"
I shake my head.
His frown deepens, confusion flickering across his face. "But it’s your spot, Mads. You love it here. Why the hell would you stay away?"
I exhale slowly, looking down at my fingers against the railing. "Because…" My voice catches slightly. "Because it reminded me too much of what I lost."What I made myself lose too.
The words hang heavy between us, carried on the ocean breeze.
Jaxon doesn’t speak right away. He just watches me, something unreadable in his gaze. And then—softly, carefully—he reaches out, his fingers brushing against mine where they rest on the railing.
For the first time in a long time, the feelings the ocean brings me don’t feel so far away anymore.
Maybe it wasn’t just the sound of the ocean that brought me calmness all those years ago.
Maybe it had something to do with the boy standing next to me too.
21
JAXON
Laughter rings through the dining room, loud and familiar, as Mom wipes at the corner of her eye.
"Oh, I forgot just how much I missed having you around, Madison."
Mads shakes her head, grinning as she spears a piece of fajita chicken with her fork. The way her eyes crinkle at the corners when she's trying not to laugh makes something warm unfurl in my chest.
"I still don't think it was that funny."
Dad chuckles, setting his glass down. "Madison, you just admitted you thought turtles were a type of fish until you were twelve. That's absolutely hilarious."
I smirk, nudging her knee under the table. "Is that why you kept asking if they needed gills to breathe? Thought you were about to try CPR on a sea turtle, Mads."
She groans, covering her face with her hands. "I said basically a fish. That's different."
"It's really not." I smirk, nudging her knee under the table. "Have you tried that bridge to Hawaii yet?"
She peeks at me through her fingers before throwing a tortilla at mychest.
Mom gasps, my dad trying his best not to choke on his drink through another laugh. "Madison Blake! Not at my table."
“Yeah, Madison. Where are your manners?” I snicker as Mads groans, sinking deeper into her seat. I grin as I toss the tortilla back onto my plate, completely unbothered. "Some things never change."
The conversation flows effortlessly from there, bouncing between old memories, food, and childhood horror stories, courtesy of my parents.
I watch Madison relax more with each passing minute. The tension she carried when we first arrived has melted away, that little dimple appearing in her left cheek when she smiles too wide.
