Second Dive (Kings of the Water #3) - Jasmin Miller Page 0,10

nasties during my meltdown.

Even Francesco’s stink-eye couldn’t keep me from doing it, or his reassurance that of course, his tiki bar was spotless.

My motto: better safe than sorry.

Always.

“Yup, not that I can blame him.” My answer is muffled, just like my ego is bruised, and my brain is a bit wishy-washy at the moment, still not a hundred percent sure what’s going on. “I basically cornered him, making him feel like a freaked-out animal.”

“More wild animal. Rawr.”

His roar sounds more like a cute kitten than a wild animal, and I smile against my warm skin before I peek up at him just as he smiles at someone behind me.

“Oh hey, babe.”

I turn around at the approaching footsteps, my mood instantly lighter when I see my uncle’s face.

“Hey.” He leans over the bar to give Francesco a kiss.

They are so dang cute together.

Francesco immediately fusses over him, his gaze roaming over his face, his hand fluttering along his cheek. “Stressful day at work?”

“Yeah.”

“Want me to make you your special drink?”

“Yes, please.”

Francesco smiles widely at him. “You got it.”

“Thanks.”

“Always for you.” Then he nods into my direction. “You take care of this one while I make your drinks.”

Cody plops down on the wicker barstool next to me and gives me a solemn look. “Your date didn’t go well, huh?”

“You know it wasn’t a date.” I let out a long breath, trying to get rid of all these mixed emotions that have been pestering me ever since Noah left me at the restaurant. Who am I kidding? This roller-coaster ride of feelings has been an ever-present shadow since my mom’s announcement about moving back to Berkeley. “And no, it didn’t go well.”

I really didn’t have any expectations when it came to the dinner. My mission was clear and simple: apologize to Noah. And that’s exactly what I did.

So why do I feel like it didn’t go well? Why don’t I feel relieved like I thought I would? Wasn’t that the whole point of meeting up with him? To not carry around this crazy amount of guilt and regret that has been with me for so long, it’s become a part of me? A living, breathing fragment of myself that feeds off me, happily dancing along with a smile on its face while I succumb to its darkness a little more each day.

I groan and plop my head back on my arms.

Talk about being melodramatic.

That’s what Noah Winters does to my heart. My poor, poor heart that didn’t know what to do when it saw that vision of a man. With his short, slightly wavy light brown hair, his five-o’clock shadow, and those eyes . . . the stunning blue gray I remember so much, the ones I dreamed of so often. There was an instant reconnection with a part inside of me that no one and nothing else has ever reached.

I’m officially screwed. So, so screwed.

My uncles’ voices are muffled as Francesco fills in Cody on what happened while I try to drown out the noise. And my thoughts. Not sure what’s louder right now, but it’s exhausting.

Where’s that off-switch button when you need it?

“Give him some time, Scribbles,” Cody says.

It’s impossible to keep the corners of my mouth from tilting up at the use of his nickname for me. He gave it to me when I was little because I was always drawing, scribbling on whatever surface or material was available.

Today, I choose my surfaces wisely, but I still don’t shy away from a napkin or other unusual material if nothing else is available and inspiration hits.

I look at him, at his adoring smile and my mood lifts. Slightly. Maybe by one-ninetieth.

Let’s yank that up a notch because Francesco has perfect timing, finishing up our colorful drinks while swinging his hips to the exotic music coming from the hidden speakers.

“A zombie for you, babe.” He places one of the orange-red drinks in front of Cody, and the other one in front of me. “And a hurricane for you. Virgin, of course.”

“Thanks,” Cody and I say in unison before taking a sip.

The sugary taste hits my taste buds immediately, and I sigh in pure fruity appreciation when the passion fruit flavor hits my tongue. There’s nothing quite like it, and it will be worth having to drink about five green juices to counteract all these calories and sugar. Even though Francesco already makes me a healthier version.

Cody bumps my knee with his. “I bet it’s a lot for him to process. You’re like