at him.
“You're such a caveman.”
He bends down and kisses her quickly. “You love it.”
“Ugh,” I groan. “You two make me sick.”
Turning around, I go to head back outside when Tessa stops me.
“All right, this is the only time I'll take pity on you,” she says, and I turn back around to face her. “She's more affected by you than you think, and judging by the way seeing her with Bryce has you, I'd say it goes both ways.”
I cross my arms over my chest, unsure if I should deny it or just let it go unmentioned. “What's your point?”
“My point is that you shouldn't let fuckboys take your girl—even if he is your best friend.”
“She's not my girl.”
Tessa snorts and holds Asher's hand as she slips past me. “Sure she's not.”
The two of them leave me alone in the house, and in an instant, I'm completely on edge. Since when do I let some chick get to me like this? She's nothing but a stuck-up, spoiled, trust fund brat with a serious attitude problem. She just also happens to be one that sets my soul on fire.
It means nothing.
It's harmless.
I should ignore it.
However, all of that goes flying out the window the second I step outside to see Bryce tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. A light blush coats Lennon's cheeks as she smiles down at the sand, and I see red.
I storm over to the two of them, grabbing Bryce by the back of his shirt and pull him away. He makes a noise like I'm choking him, but I honestly don't give a shit. Not about that, and not about the fact that Lennon is calling me an asshole as I drag him toward the water.
The second I let Bryce go, he falls to the ground.
“The fuck was that for?” he shouts as he pushes himself back up.
“You fucking know what.”
“You said you were cool with it!”
I get up in his face. “Yeah, well, I changed my mind.”
The two of us stand chest to chest, staring each other down, until he finally snickers and shakes his head while taking a step back. I didn't just fall for his trap; I fucking threw myself into it. Still, I couldn't stand seeing Lennon with him for one more second.
“You're so screwed,” he tells me.
“Fuck off. I am not.”
“Sure, bruh.”
He walks away and back over to Jayden, leaving me to process what the fuck just happened.
Fucking bruh.
THIS BED VERY WELL may be an actual cloud, but I still can't seem to get comfortable. Thoughts of Lennon have plagued my mind since the bonfire. Even after my very public outrage, she has refused to say a single word to me. I wish it didn't get to me, and I could just let it go, but it does and I can't.
Giving in, I slip out of bed and make my way across the house. Maybe if I can just see her, get close enough to admire her cheekbones and the way her hair falls around her face, maybe then I can get some sleep.
I quietly open the door to her room, but her bed is empty. My first thought is Bryce, but I know he would never do that to me. Colby Hendrix flashes into my mind, and I'm about to lose my shit, until a figure on the balcony catches my eye.
Lennon is looking out at the ocean, with the breeze blowing through her hair, despite it being three in the morning. The way the moonlight hits her just right has me wishing I could commit this sight to memory—lock it away for a day when I don't get the privilege of seeing how breathtakingly beautiful she is.
“It's not nice to stare,” she tells me, not even needing to turn around to see that it's me stepping outside behind her.
I can't help but laugh. “Who said I was nice?”
Turning around, she looks me up and down. “You play hard, but I think you're secretly a softie.”
“Are you always this wrong?”
She sighs. “Potentially. I thought Kellan was a good guy.”
That manages to cut right through me. I don't know if it's the pain in her voice, or the fact that he is even on her mind—because that prick doesn't deserve even an ounce of her attention—but I instantly want to find Kellan and pummel his face in.
“Lennon, that wasn't your fault.”
“I know. Or at least I think I know.” She runs her fingers through her hair. “Still, it doesn't make it