Page 51 of Plotting Summer

“Can I get it hand-delivered and put in one of those spiral bound notebooks like Tala got?”

“That’ll depend on how things go with Tristan Saturday and whether I’ll forever be banned from the island.”

“He’s not going to ban you from anything. As already stated, he’s way too nice for that. And he loves you.” Jane glances at her watch again. “But if you want to avoid having to text him or Tala for a ride home, we need to go.”

I stuff the remaining items on the bathroom counter into my bag, glance around the villa with one last longing look of all the things it could have been, and follow Jane outside.

“What do you mean he was in a hurry to leave?” Tala whispers. Heath and the older kids are a good distance ahead of us in the parking lot, making their way toward the Seaside Oasis entrance.

I readjust Lucas in my arms. For only being three months, the kid is a tank. “After dinner was over, he walked me back, grabbed his bag, and left. He did give me a hug, but it was one of those from the side kind—strictly platonic.” I release an unintentional sigh. “But in his defense, I totally get it. The private villa atmosphere really wasn’t conducive to two friends hanging out.” Co-ed friends, anyway. Jane and I had a blast until way too late, and I yawn at the reminder.

Tala gives a slight pout, obviously not thrilled with the platonic relationship Tristan and I have maintained despite all our time together. And I feel it. Deeply. Even though I shouldn’t. What I should be is relieved things are following my original plan perfectly. Tristan and I are friends, nothing more. It’ll still be awful to tell him the truth, and I’m dreading it with every fiber within me, but it’ll be easier now than if we weren’t friends at all. Or, honestly, if we were miraculously more than friends. So it really is good that I’ve remained strictly in the friend zone. And if I say it over and over again, it might quiet the little part of my brain that secretly hoped Tristan would fall in love with me during our time together.

“You slowpokes coming?” Heath stops on the threshold of the automatic door with his armful of towels. “We’re already twenty minutes late. At the rate you two are going, we’ll miss the whole swim party.” Serenity and Jack gesture for us to hurry, so Tala and I pick up our speed. When we step through the doors into the lobby, there’s only a handful of people inside, most of them heading in the direction of the courtyard where a din of voices can be heard. Heath glances over at me. “I forgot to tell you, but I had a good chat with Tristan on our run this morning.”

The spike of my heartbeat would likely show up on a seismograph. “What do you mean?” I ask, silently pleading that they spoke about baseball or football or even where to purchase a pink beach cruiser for Beau. But the satisfied grin on Heath’s face confirms my fears—he spoke to Tristan about me.

“Don’t look so panicked, Capri. It went really well.”

My gaze flicks to Tala, who looks as stunned to hear about Heath’s intervention as I am. “What’d you say?” I ask, and Tala takes Lucas from my arms as if she’s worried I might drop him in my current state of shock. Or maybe she knows I need my hands free to strangle her husband.

“We talked about how everything is going between the two of you.”

“There’s no between us, Heath,” I whisper even though there’s no one directly around us to overhear. “We’re friends. That’s it.”

“I’m aware.” How he says this makes me wonder if Tristan was forced to explain the same thing, and the thought causes my legs to feel as if they might give out. “I only meant we talked about how the outings were going and …” He shrugs. “… lots of stuff, really. I promise it was a great discussion.”

“Heath wouldn’t say anything you didn’t want him to,” Tala says, eyeing her husband. “Would you, sweetie?”

“Why are you two acting as if I did something wrong?” There’s a twinkle in Heath’s eye I don’t like. “I did Capri a real solid. Trust me.”

Serenity is standing in front of the open courtyard doors, pointing outside. “It’s Grandmama. Can I go see her?”

Tala nods and Serenity disappears through the door, followed closely by Jack.

“We’re not finished talking about this,” I say before Heath can escape. “When we get home, you’re going to tell me everything you said to him.”

“I’ll see what I can remember by then.” His gaze focuses behind me. “But speaking of the man himself …” Heath lifts a hand, and I follow his line of sight to Tristan walking toward us from the direction of his office, still in slacks and a Seaside Oasis polo, holding a paper in his hand. I'm suddenly lightheaded, and I’m not sure if it’s just seeing Tristan or the fact that I’m nervous he might have overheard us. Probably both.

He smiles at Tala and Heath, but his gaze settles on me when he nears. “I’m glad you made it.”

I smile, but with Heath’s knowing grin plastered to our profiles, I'm all sorts of self-conscious. “I told you snow cones were a weakness of mine.”

Tala grabs hold of Heath’s arm. “We’d better go make sure the kids don’t get in the pool without us there.” She pulls him toward the courtyard. “We’ll see you two outside.”

Heath shoots one last smile over his shoulder before I turn my attention back to Tristan. I try not to think about his and Heath’s conversation from earlier since I’m nervous enough with the prospect of being seen interacting together. At least the lobby is currently empty. “How’s the swim party going so far?”

“I actually haven’t been out there yet. I was just finishing up a few things, the last of which is pinning this”—he hands me the festive red and blue flyer—“to the bulletin board. It’s for the Sunset Harbor Fourth of July Bash. Jane emailed it over a few hours ago, but Sandra’s been so busy prepping for the swim party, I figured I’d print it and hang it up to save her the trouble.”

That’s so Tristan of him.

As we walk toward the front, I scan the advertisement—a pancake breakfast in the morning followed by the parade, games in the town square throughout the afternoon, and a dance that night with live music before fireworks. Same as always, but with the addition of food trucks. Which was Jane’s idea and is so brilliant. “This is one of my favorite Sunset Harbor traditions.”

Tristan reaches over the reception area for a stapler, then steps up to the bulletin board along the front wall beside the door. “Does that mean you’ll be here for it?”

I hold the flyer against a vacant spot on the board while he staples it. “I’ve never missed one. Even when we were little, we’d always come visit Grandma and Grandpa that first week in July. So I hope so.” My stomach twists a little, realizing this year is dependent on a few things—or one thing in particular now—namely Tristan’s reaction to my news. At this point, I honestly can’t see him getting too upset, but it still might be wise to give him some space to process it all. And with my Avoid Sunset Harbor Protocol, I’d already come to terms with this being the first year I’d miss.

“I haven’t been in quite a while.” Tristan closes the stapler and places it back behind the reception area desk.