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I make a show of sweeping her brown hair back off her face and brushing invisible lint from her shoulders. “You look like the kind of woman worth fighting for.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” she says.
And with that confidence, Naomi throws her shoulders back, marches across the lawn—somehow not sinking into the grass despite sky-high heels—and straight to Camden. I expect her to tug him onto the dance floor or maybe just hug him.
Instead, she reaches her hands behind his neck and pulls his mouth down to hers. Right in front of everyone. Practically the whole island. Frank is even filming for his famous TikTok channel, which I’ve yet to see.
“Go, Naomi,” I say, watching what might be in the running for longest PDA ever.
“Enjoying the show?”
For the second time tonight, I startle. This time, it’s Benedict sneaking up on me.
I swat at him. He doesn’t budge, coming to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with me. “I'm not into watching people make out. I'm just happy for Naomi. She deserves this.”
I see Ben nodding through my peripheral vision. Even though I refuse to turn toward him, it’s like the man is a beacon for my attention. I need to get that fixedquick.
“She does. And Cam seems like a good guy.”
“Cam? Y’all are on a nickname basis now?”
“Y’all?My, how the South has gotten to you.”
My sisters and I all grew up in the Midwest, with no strong accent, but every summer, without fail, a little Southern always slipped in. By the time we left Oakley, we were always y’alling along with everyone else. I guess it happened a little faster this time. Less than six hours and I’m dropping y’all’s.
Ignoring Ben’s ribbing, I ask, “Was that the Carolina shag you were doing with Harriett?”
I swear, I feel the force of his grin like a tidal pull. Still—I keep my eyes straight ahead. Naomi and Camden disappear, but now Merritt has pulled a reluctant Hunter onto the dance floor. Eloise and Jake aren’t far behind. That same stupid feeling of missing out rears its ugly head. I have a feeling it’s like a hydra—cut off one head and two more grow back in its place.
“Down here, we just call it the shag,” Ben says. “Wanna give it a whirl?”
I do. And it shocks me—the sudden pulse ofwantreverberating in my chest. It’s as though my heart is a chapel bell, and Ben’s question just yanked on the pull.
“No.” It comes out automatically. And doesn’t sound authentic at all.
Benedict chuckles and leans closer. “If it bothers you so much, you can tell everyone I forced you. Or that you lost a bet.”
“Still no.”
But I wantsobadly to say yes. Though I spend most of my waking hours with my butt parked in a chair, I love dancing. And it’s been way too long since I’ve done it. My limbs are practically screaming at me to get out there.
Leaning so close his breath tickles my neck, Ben says the only three words that could possibly make me cave. “You scared, Sadie?”
He’s barely finished the question before I’m dragging him under the lights. His laughter, a rich and throaty sound, makes me tighten my grip on his hand. As we step onto the dance floor, I ignore Merritt’s shocked then smug look and Eloise’s delighted one.
“Teach me,” I demand, spinning to face Ben.
His eyes gleam. With mirth, I think first, because of course the man is happy to be getting his way. But his expression is less amused and more … something else. Something that makes my cheeks hot. I can’t quite name it, but it’s genuine and makes me feel alive.
“See if you can keep up, Sadie girl,” he says.
And then we’re moving.
Ben is good at leading. But he still seems surprised—and happy—over how quickly I pick up the basic steps. I’m pretty good at imitation, and despite myself, I watched a good bit of Ben and Harriett while talking to Naomi.
“You sure you’ve never done this before?” Ben asks as we spin closer.
“What? Does it surprise you to know I have hidden talents?”
