Just like that, she rose out of her chair, too.
When I turned back to look at Phoebe, I understood why. Rhea had her in her arms, holding her tightly, and it looked like Phoebe might be... crying?
Fuck.
My fingers curled around the arms of the chair. I wanted to go to her, to find out what had gone wrong so I could try make it right, but I couldn't be that guy for her. Not here. Not now. Not with everyone around us this way. All I could do was watch on, white knuckling the chair while I waited.
Both girls had their arms wrapped around Phoebe now, while Jace and Andy muttered to each other about chicks and their theatrics, which only made my jaw tighten, but then Phoebe pushed the girls away and wiped at her eyes, looking down at the sand before she gestured back to the bar with a wave of her hand.
The three of them had a little back and forth, but Phoebe said something that had the other two nodding softly, their postures changing from fight mode to letting her go far too quickly formy liking. Not long after, Bailey and Rhea were walking back up the steps to the bar, while Phoebe quickly turned and walked away without so much as a glance in my direction, never mind a goodbye.
“What happened?” Andy asked when Bailey took her seat again. “Is Phoebe okay?”
“Not really.”
“It’s shit is what it is,” Rhea said, plonking into her seat next to me with a thud.
“What is?” Andy said.
“She has a lot of crap going on back home. I'm not sure she'd want us to talk about it without her consent?—”
“Her grandpa is sick,” Bailey said, draining her cocktail glass completely.
“Bailey! Christ!” Rhea shot back.
“What? It's hardly a secret, Rhea.”
“Yeah, but...” Her brows rose at her friend.
Bailey just rolled her eyes and turned to Andy. “She wants to be alone. Whenever anything gets hard, Phoebealwayswants to be alone. Do you know how frustrating that is? To love someone and want what's best for them only for them to shut you out every time life gets hard?”
Andy's eyes rose to mine. “I have an idea, yeah.”
I looked away, not in the mood for any more of his digs when all I could think about was Phoebe finding her own way back to her apartment while out of her mind with worry.
I more than anyone knew that when you wanted to be alone that way, it usually meant life had become too overwhelming to carry on pretending to an audience.
The four of them continued the conversation, which I no longer wanted to be a part of. All I could think about was that look of sadness on Phoebe's face after I'd finally, finally managed to make her smile again. That challenging glare in her eyes whenshe'd stood on the opposite side of the volleyball net from me had made even me feel alive. Her spark excited me. That cute fighting talk mixed with the way she'd wiped the sweat from her brow, not knowing what a turn on it had been to watch those beads of water running down over her skin.
How had she gone from that to crying in her friends’ arms so quickly?
“I think I'm gonna take off.” I pushed my chair back and rose to stand, not even looking down at the rest of them.
“Wait, we've ordered you a beer,” Jace reminded me.
“Consider it yours.”
I tossed a few euros his way, then made my way down the steps and onto the beach, following the same direction Phoebe had just taken.
It wasn't unlike me to walk away from a group setting that way, so I didn’t worry about them suspecting my true intentions. It had always been in my nature to leave a party when I wanted to go, not when everyone else expected me to. When my parents first died, I'd been allowed a lot of grace by the people around me in that respect, and maybe I still used that to my advantage now, but I didn't care. Whatever worked, worked.
The need to make sure Phoebe was okay charged through me, a foreign feeling in my chest that almost bordered on panic—an emotion I'd never really had when dating Lillie, or anyone else for that matter. But Phoebe hadn’t left me alone the night before, and I’d be damned if I left her alone now, no matter how much she wanted it. We were too alike that way, and I saw straight through her now. The fire hid an isolated soul, always depending on herself and no one else. Always running from support instead of to it.
Stubborn. So stubborn.
As soon as I’d walked far enough away from the bar to be out of sight, I picked up my pace and began jogging down the pathI assumed she'd taken. When I came to the end of it, there she stood in all her glory, wearing that sheer shirt again as though it could somehow protect her from whatever news had turned her cold, despite the heat.
The sun didn't matter when it felt like your soul had started freezing over.
