As I make my way through the crowd, I’m stopped right and left by everyone I pass. I’ve missed this place. The Beach Bar is full of energy workers who are searching for inner peace. The guys do flirt, but it’s got a harmless feel to it. I’ve always felt at home in this crowd.

When I get to Adam, he hands me a hard cider. We clink bottles and take our first sips just as “Feeling Irie” by Gregory Isaacs comes on. Adam grins and pulls me in. I’m wearing his chosen bikini. The gold shimmery material doesn’t hide much, but it covers enough that I’m unlikely to get arrested, at least. Among this crowd, my teeny bikini is acceptable, and I revel in the freedom of letting go and being comfortable.

Pressed seductively against me, Adam sways me front and back. He’s an incredible dancer. I opt to enjoy the flirtatious moment instead of feeling bad about it. I won’t let this go to a place that winds up causing guilt and conflict, but a little flirting with my soulmate is allowed on occasion. That’s when it occurs to me that we still haven’t had a chance to discuss the pregnancy news one on one.

“How are you holding up, Adam? About the whole becoming a father thing, I mean.”

He smirks as he looks over my shoulder and evades the question. “Look who decided to haul his ass down here,” he calls out.

I glance over my shoulder to find Demitri and his dad striding our way. I sigh and brace myself for the confrontation, but I don’t get a chance to even greet them before I hear behind me, “Holy crap! If it isn’t ba-by girl!”

I know the voice without having to look. I giggle bawdily and then announce with a hint of flirtation, “Rocco Rutelle.”

He crinkles his nose and grins down at me as I turn to face him. He’s six foot four, and I’m tiny in comparison. Rocco is something of a big dog among the surf crowd—boisterous and charming, and with a whole lot of swagger. He’s harmless, though. Well . . . he’s harmless with me. I wouldn’t ever want to find myself on the receiving end of his fist-fighting tendencies.

Rocco says with an edge of amusement, “We miss your bitty ass around here. Goddamn, baby girl. You’re looking good!”

Demitri clearly doesn’t enjoy hearing someone else use one of his nicknames for me, but Rocco’s been calling me that longer than Demitri has.

“You too, Rocco.”

He picks me up and hugs me. “I forget how teeny she is,” he says over my shoulder to Adam. He sets me down and asks, “Will you do the thing? Just one more time?”

I laugh. “You ask that every time I see you. I always say yes.” I place my hands on his chest and put my head on him with my eyes closed. A moment later, I’ve topped off his energy reserves.

He groans softly. “That’s intoxicating.”

I open my eyes and smile up at him.

Rocco hands me his lit joint and says to Adam, “This girl. I’ve never felt anything like that.”

Adam smiles, but his energy is laced with remorse and nostalgia. “I know.”

Rocco gestures for me to pass the joint around our group. “How are things with Val?”

After a dismissive shrug, Adam takes a hit from the joint before passing it to Mr. Cantrell. Adam doesn’t enthusiastically share his baby news, and it worries me. I don’t think he’s handling it well.

Rocco’s gaze shifts back to me. “Good to see you, Wildcat.” He rubs his nose on mine before sliding through the crowd to the other side of the porch.

Adam puts his arm around me and hands me my cider. “You and your surfer boys.” He chuckles.

The silence hangs for a moment as Adam and I stare at Demitri and his dad.

“What’s up, Peter Pan?” Adam says, jutting his chin D’s way.

Demitri looks me up and down, seeming to disapprove of my swimsuit. He takes off his shirt and hands it to me. “Please put this on.”

I take the shirt and scrunch up my face. “Tempting. It smells like your cologne, and if I wear it, you’ll be shirtless, so hooray. On the other hand, I’m among old friends, this is what all the girls here wear, and I’m safe, so eh.” I tuck the shirt into his waistband, leaving it hanging. “There. Now you fit in.” I polish off my hard cider just as the waitress walks by and exchanges a fresh one for my empty.

Delroy Wilson’s “Dancing Mood” bounces cheerfully from the speakers, and Adam spins me around before pulling me in and dancing with me to the reggae song. I slide my knee up Adam’s side, and he holds my leg suggestively as I backbend.

An old friend of ours named Pepe sidles up. No one has ever told me Pepe’s last name, but I do know he’s a rascal. Always laughing and cutting up. He does nothing but surf. I have no clue how he affords rent. He’s usually disheveled, and I’ve never seen him in anything but board shorts. I don’t think the guy even owns a shirt. “Think I can steal Wildcat for a dance?” he asks Adam.

Adam shakes his head. “She promised me her dance card spots this roll around. Sorry, Pepe. You never give her back.”

Pepe laughs. “Can you blame me?”

As he walks away, Adam chuckles.

“Grant me a convo, Meley?” Demitri requests.

“There goes my happy buzz,” I say with a sigh.

Adam rolls his eyes. “Why can’t we ever just have fun? It’s always something.” He drops my hand and leans on the railing with Mr. Cantrell.

They strike up a chat while Demitri hauls me to the other side of the patio. Along the way, I’m stopped by several people who want to say hi.

We make it to a spot that seems to please Demitri, who turns to me. “You’re apparently popular around here.”

I shrug. “I like this place. They don’t card me, and it’s chill.”

Demitri stares out at the ocean, his vibe tense. He doesn’t say anything for a long stretch.

“We’re standing in a beach bar,” I say finally. “There’s reggae music playing, and you need to lighten up. If your dad’s cool with it, grab a beer. Catch some sun now that your shirt’s off.”

Demitri exhales loudly. “Melanie, we both know we do better when we don’t get things confused between us.”

I shrug. “Okay. It’s not confused. Now what?”

“It is confused because you confuse it. Why can’t we just do the best-friend thing?”

I scrunch up my forehead and give him a slightly arrogant gaze. “I’m fine. I left, totally in best-friend mode. You followed me, were uncomfortable with my bikini, and now you’re bringing up all this serious stuff while . . .” I listen for a second to figure out the new song that just started. “While Peter Tosh is playing.”

“We’re confusing, and you know it.”

I rattle my head, baffled. “Then discuss what confuses you.”

A local named Luis walks up and interrupts us. “Wanna dance instead of looking miserable?” he asks me as he gives Demitri a judgmental once-over.

“No,” Demitri snaps back. “She doesn’t.” He turns me and puts my back against the railing. Then, he steps in front of me, effectively blocking anyone from coming up to talk to me.

I gesture in the direction of my retreating acquaintance, Luis. I don’t know him well, and didn’t want to dance with him, but that’s not the point. “What’s your deal? You’re acting like a jealous boyfriend.”

Demitri rubs his face. “I just don’t like all these guys hovering. It’s weird.”

I scoff. “Coming from you, that’s rich! You’re constantly accosted by flirtatious girls. I never give a shit about that, do I?”

Demitri looks uncomfortable. “I’m just not used to it. People are always so standoffish around you.”

I shrug. “Here, they’re not. Maybe that’s why I like it so much.”

“You never wear stuff this revealing.”

“Last time I checked, you don’t mind revealing outfits. You’re dating a girl who wears practically nothing on the daily.”

Demitri nods. “It works for her.”

Did I just hear him right? “I work my ass off in the studio and gym,” I snap, “yet you treat me like your dumpy sidekick. It’s offensive.”

“I don’t think you’re dumpy,” Demitri snarls. “Don’t put unfounded accusations on me. The problem is that you’re better than dressing like this.” He looks around pensively. “The last thing we need is for Jet to see you wearing that!”

As our voices rise, Adam and Mr. Cantrell cross to us.

Adam gives Demitri a menacing glare. “One of the reasons I brought Melanie here is that these Beach Bar guys will kill Jet if he shows up and harasses her. I can keep her safe here.” He gives Demitri a pointed look. “That’s not the issue you have with the bikini, though. You give Melanie a morality check again, and I’ll have you launched on your ass.”

“What’s the problem?” Rocco hollers to Adam.

Every guy on the patio turns and stares at us, all silently asking if I need help.

I wave my hand casually. “We’re fine, guys. Sorry to disturb you.”

Everyone goes back to their chatter, but I can sense that they’re keeping one eye on me in case I change my mind.

“You’re playing with fire, riling these guys up,” I warn Adam. “Everyone needs to chill.” I turn to Demitri. “Keep it down and let’s deal with this. I’m sick of dancing around the issue. You don’t get to have it both ways, Demitri. You can’t be my happy-go-lucky best friend, but then also hit me with boyfriend judgment and jealousy. I’ve got Trey for that.”

Mr. Cantrell puts his hands up as a peace gesture. “I think the problem is there’s more between you two than gets discussed.”

Adam hands me my drink, and I take a swig.

“Discuss it, then,” I snap at Demitri.

“I can’t,” Demitri snaps back. “It’ll be overstepping where Victoria’s concerned. The conversation I need to have would hurt her feelings.”

I look around the bar and yell comically, “Victoria? Has anyone seen Victoria? Ohhh, Victoooria.”

No one answers, although I earn a few amused looks from the other patrons.

I turn back to Demitri and make a Fraggle face at him. “No Victoria. I guarantee she wouldn’t make it five minutes in this place. This crowd hates fake flotation devices.”

“Obviously she’s not here,” Demitri says with a dead tone. “It’s the principle of the thing that bothers me.”

I nod with over-the-top sarcasm. “Lovely. You go worry about your principles while I enjoy my day.”

When I start to walk away, Demitri grabs my arm, stopping me.

I glare up at him. “Say it.”

He just stares back.

“Your issue is that there’s blazing attraction between us,” I say. “Yes, I’m with Trey, but let me tell you, a fairy tale it’s not. You”—I point to him—“are dating a waste of air, but God forbid you ditch her. I mean, how could you dump someone who looks like she’s worthy of your Greek god ass? I’ll tell you this, she’s not even close to worthy of you, Demitri. She’s rude and self-centered. You’ve finally discovered your flaw, and it bugs the shit out of you. Turns out you’re shallow.” I nod enthusiastically at his shocked expression. “So, Mr. Perfect, you’re going to go on your merry way and worship Victoria. I’m going to drink another cider and dance with Adam.” I turn to Adam and joke, “Unless you’d rather call Victoria and haul her vapid ass down here to see what all the fuss is about.”

Adam smolders down at me as he swigs from his beer. “I would rather die.” He gives Demitri a snide look. “D, you’re just bugged because you think you’ve got everything you want in Victoria, but you don’t. Melanie’s everything you want. She comes with problematic baggage you don’t want to suffer through, though, which I guess I can respect.”

Demitri’s jaw is tense.

Adam grins down at me. “You need a new backup plan, because you and Trey are going to implode. That motherfucker parks his car in other garages, and you know it.”

I shake my head. “Coming from you, Adam? Really?”

He shrugs. “I’m not faithful. That’s no secret.”

Silently, I wonder if any of that will change with a baby on the way. I think about asking him, but then decide against it because it’ll kill what’s left of the mood.

My gaze catches Rocco’s from across the patio. He’s tanned and gorgeous, with the top of his wet suit draped around his waist.

“Maybe Rocco’s my next conquest.”

Adam chokes on his beer, then quickly collects himself. “A capital plan, my dear. You could move right into the filthy beachfront shack Rocco shares with six other surf bums.” He gives me a sarcastic look. “He sells weed.”

I bite my lip and take on a vampy expression. “I don’t want to marry him, silly. I just thought I’d play with him for a while.”

“I’ll call in an order for penicillin so you’re all prepped and ready.”

Demitri glares down at me, and Mr. Cantrell sighs.

I grin and hold a hand Rocco’s way.

Rocco cuts his chat off mid conversation and strides through the crowd to me. “Wanna dance, baby girl?”

I nod happily, and he picks me up and scoots through the gap between Demitri and Adam.

“Excuse me, pardon me, Prince Charming,” Rocco says to Demitri.

Demitri glowers as Rocco sets me down and starts dancing with me. Adam chuckles, then swigs from his bottle.

“That seriously doesn’t bother you?” Demitri asks Adam, loudly enough for me to hear.

Adam and Rocco exchange an amused look. Rocco spins me around.

“Isn’t he cute?” Rocco says of Demitri.

“The guy she’s dating is too busy for her,” Adam says with a roll of his eyes.

Rocco dips me flirtatiously. “So here you are, back to your roots with her, huh, Adam?”

“Nope.” Adam tips his beer bottle. “Just friends. I won’t lower Melanie to being my sidepiece. She’s better than that.”

“Does that make her your sugar baby then?” Rocco says, looking to Mr. Cantrell.

“Seriously, Roc?” I say, offended. “You know damn well that I would never be with someone for money!”

Mr. Cantrell looks both shocked and amused. “I’m trying to hook her up with my son, who’s dating a waste of air. Unfortunately, my son isn’t cooperating.”

Rocco turns me around and drapes his arms over my shoulders while he surveys Demitri. “Nope. He won’t work. You need someone real, and that guy”—he points at Demitri—“isn’t going to ring your reality bells.”

I cover a laugh with a fake cough and look away.

“Hey!” Demitri snaps. “Wait just a damn minute!”

Rocco looks mischievously at him. “You’re used to being the most perfect God in every crowd, I suspect.” He stops, and his expression morphs curiously before he says to no one in particular, “I wonder . . .” He turns and bellows, “Yo, Riptide. Come here.”

A stunning—I’m talking holy-crap gorgeous—guy wades through the crowd to us. I swear I’ve never seen anyone more captivating. My heart nearly hammers out of my chest, and my head spins. I reach up and steady myself with a hand on Rocco’s arm.

He grins.

As Riptide approaches, Demitri gapes at my reaction.

Riptide’s perfect surfer body is deeply tanned. My brain liquifies as I survey his curly hair, still wet with ocean water. As he gets to us, he looks down at me with deep-brown eyes I get lost in. He glances at Rocco as he touches my arm and smiles, but it’s not naughty. Instead, it holds an edge of wonder. “Hel-lo. Who, and what, is this? Oh my God.”

I blush, suddenly shy.

Riptide melts a little. “Ohhh! You’re adorable.” He pulls me in, hugging me.

I giggle happily.

“This is Melanie, but she’s known as Wildcat around here. She’s currently unhappily taken. She used to date Adam and is apparently stuck in an unreciprocated mesmerization with that guy.” He waves his hand flippantly at Demitri. “He’s new around here, and no one gives a fuck.”

Riptide chuckles at Rocco’s dismissiveness as he looks Demitri’s way and tips his head right, then left, unimpressed. Demitri seems shocked.

Adam snorts. “Good times, huh, Peter Pan? You’re hot shit, but Riptide’s hotter shit.” Clearly elated, he looks at me and says, “Melanie appears to like the other Greek god more.”

I giggle, still wrapped around the Greek god in question.

Riptide studies me with his captivating gaze. I smile the slightest bit.

He smiles back flirtatiously, reaches down, and laces his fingers with mine. Eyes closed, he examines my energy, a sweet expression on his face. He opens his eyes and says to Rocco, “She’s amazing.” Shaking his head slowly while he studies me, Riptide breathes out, “Damn. I’d sell my soul to the devil for a soulmate connection with you. I have an ability that allows me to study the heart of relationships. I’ve looked over you and pretty boy. You’re perfect just the way you are, and to hell with anyone who can’t see that.” He gently puts his hand around the back of my neck and sends a wave of this calm, capable, soul-bending energy into me.

I gasp and close my eyes. My back bows. Riptide holds me while I lie limp in his hand. I come back to my senses and look up at him.

He guides me upright as he says with a tone that holds great weight, “You, my wildcat, don’t settle.”

I smile and rattle my head, trying to clear it.

“I teach surf lessons,” he says, lightening the mood. “Any interest?”

“Actually, yes.” I nod appreciatively.

A baffled Demitri barks out, “I’ve been trying to talk you into letting me teach you to surf for months! It’s always no.”

“Any excuse to see him again,” I say, still gazing up at Riptide.

“I’d have you ripping and curling in a day,” Riptide says, as he flirtatiously winks at me. “Hit me up.” At his request, the waitress gives him her order pad and a pen so he can jot down his number for me. “I found an excuse to give her my number,” he says to Mr. Cantrell and Demitri. “Smooth, right?”

I laugh lightly at his candor and read the paper he hands me. “Pierre?”

He grins. “You deserve my actual name.”

“Thank you, Pierre.”

He nods, and I watch, starry-eyed, as he melts into the crowd.

“Holy crap,” I say to Rocco. “I can die happy now.”

Rocco laughs, squeezes my arm, and winks at me before walking away.

“We need to talk,” Demitri insists. “Will you come back to my house with me?”

“Not in the mood,” I say with a shrug. “I want to eat and stare at Riptide.”

“Yo, Rocco!” Adam yells. “Melanie wants to gaze at Riptide while she eats.”

Adam and I laugh as Riptide wheels around comically. “Food’s on me,” Riptide calls.

Turning to Mr. Cantrell and Demitri, Adam says, “Nice to see you. Have a good one.”

He puts his arm around my shoulders, and Rocco and Riptide wave us over to a four-person booth they’ve just commandeered. Demitri follows like a lost puppy. Adam slides in next to Rocco, leaving me with the spot next to Riptide. I sit, and Riptide looks over the menu I’m holding, intentionally pressing against my shoulder. We banter about the crappy choice I was apparently about to make.

“Melanie, it’s fish-and-chips. End of story. They’re insane here.”

“Eh.”

“Trust me,” Riptide says flirtatiously.

“All right. Fish-and-chips, it is.”

“What the . . . ,” Demitri says, throwing his hands up. “Am I hallucinating? She’s never turned down a chance to hang out with me.”

“Maybe you need to switch gears,” Mr. Cantrell says, shaking his head at his son.

Riptide smirks at Demitri. “Your problem is solved, pretty boy. Melanie’s out of your league anyway.” His arm glides around my shoulders, and my eyes widen. No one has ever told Demitri he’s not good enough.

Rendered speechless, Demitri looks from his dad to me. He gestures wordlessly from me to Riptide, and I giggle and wiggle my shoulders.

“Happy girl,” I chirp.

Demitri gives me a hurt look. “Meley, you can’t be serious.”

“Meley, huh?” Riptide grins. “I like that. I’m going to steal it.”

Adam cracks up, slapping the table. As he looks up at Demitri, he gasps out, “Watching you reduced to ‘ain’t shit’ is fucking hilarious.”

“You’re still the bestest best friend,” I assure Demitri cheerfully. “All that confliction you were bitching about is over. You’re in the friend zone, just like you wanted.” I purr at Riptide, “You’re not in the friend zone. Sorry.”

He crinkles his nose charmingly at me. “I don’t want to be in your friend zone.”

I bounce like a happy Fraggle. “Problem solved.”

Demitri snarls, clearly not happy.

Riptide hits him with sparkling eyes. “You’re welcome. I got your problem off your jock, and I’ve decided she’s welcome to adore me instead.” After a moment, he asks me, “Does that wound hurt?”

I nod sheepishly. “Gunshot,” I inform him before he can ask.

Riptide winces. “I don’t even want to know.” He rotates me and puts a hand lightly over the wound. I feel an odd energy waft, and then my head drops as all the tension leaves my body. Something is shifting in my shoulder, and then, all at once, it stops hurting.

“I’ve been at energy work a long time,” he informs. “I’ve developed a healing ability.”

He switches to rubbing out knots in my sore back. He grips my good shoulder gently and holds a moment while he sends calming energy into a knot, forcing it to release.

“Ohhh,” I groan. “You’re magic.”

His energy swirls through me as he shifts to another knot.

I slump over the table. “Best back rub ever.”

Demitri glares at Riptide, then narrows his eyes at me as I look at him from my flopped-over position. My eyes roll into the back of my head as Riptide hits the perfect spot.

When I can coherently think again, I side-eye Adam. “I hate modern-society rules about age. I’d drag his ass out of here and have him moaning a three-thousand-year-old deity’s name in five minutes flat if I didn’t think it would get him arrested.”

Rocco breathes out, “Holy turn-on, Batman.”

Riptide freezes. “Adam, how old is she?”

“Sixteen, but she’s on at least her two hundredth lifetime.” Adam shrugs, blasé.

Riptide’s voice is suddenly gravelly with heat as he says to Adam, “Please tell me it wouldn’t be worth it.”

Adam grins at me. “Unleash the beast, Mel.”

I drop my shields, and my dark-water seduction thrums from me in blisteringly sensual waves. Riptide has me revved.

His head droops, and he whispers, “Holy shit.”

As I turn my face a touch, I find him staring at me. “My seductive dark-water side is a lot,” I murmur.

When I sit up, Riptide slides a hand along my jaw and puts his forehead on mine, squeezing his eyes closed. His hand is trembling as he gasps out, “I’m only eighteen. Think statutory laws still apply?”

“Yes, moron,” Demitri says.

I toss my shields back up and cut off the dark-water energy flow. Riptide throws his head back and exhales hard.

After a moment, he comes back to his senses. “That’s what you specialize in?”

“That’s the fun one.” I crinkle my nose and give him a cute, big-eyed look.

Riptide grins and holds my gaze.

“I’ll deal with your back, Melanie,” Demitri offers. “You don’t need this guy all over you.”

I rattle my head and look Demitri’s way, having forgotten he was there.

Riptide squeezes my shoulders seductively just to irritate Demitri.

“I really do need him all over me.” My whole body goose-bumps.

“I hate you for introducing me to her, Rocco,” Riptide says. “I swear I’m in love, and I’ve known her ten minutes. This girl is pearl worthy.”

Rocco fist-bumps him. “Damn right she is. You’re welcome.”

Demitri rubs his face before snapping at his dad, “Let’s go.”

Mr. Cantrell and Demitri leave to the sounds of Rocco’s, Adam’s, and Riptide’s laughter.

After Demitri’s out of earshot, I inform Riptide, “You just destroyed him. For the record, he’s a nice guy.”

“I know he is,” Riptide says with a nod, “but he’s been put on a pedestal for too long. I saw his feelings about his girlfriend when I searched his intent. He needed a reality check. You’re a catch, and he’s an idiot for dismissing you.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m over it. Whatever.”

“You aren’t over it, Melanie,” Riptide says, shaking his head. “You’re quite thoroughly in love with three guys: your boyfriend, Adam, and Demitri.”

I sigh in frustration.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that in front of Adam.”

“He knows,” I groan. “He and I don’t have secrets.”

“All true,” Adam says. “Thank you for helping her, Rip.”

“My pleasure,” Riptide says, smiling down at me.

“So, eighteen huh?” I say curiously.

“In this lifetime.” Pierre smiles, his eyes sparkling.

Younger than I thought. I smile and blush at the potential this raises. “Thank you for being nice to me.”

Riptide looks baffled. “You don’t have to thank me for that. You aren’t a charity case, Meley.”

We all sit in silence thinking about this for a moment.

Finally, I break the lull. “We need to head out after we eat,” I say to Adam. “We’re meeting the Hellhounds so we can deal with the picture mess.”

“What picture mess?” Rocco asks.

My cheeks instantly burn with embarrassment, and I duck my head.

“Whoa,” Riptide says. “What’s happening?”

Adam leans in and quietly explains the situation.

“We’re going with you,” Riptide says. “We might be useful.”

Rocco nods.

Blazingly embarrassed, I tell Adam, “I don’t want these guys to see the pictures.”

Riptide tips up my chin to look in my eyes. “Then we don’t see them. This isn’t about that. This is about us making sure you’re safe.”

“Now Mr. Perfect is taking Trey’s job,” I say to Adam. I look up at Riptide. “Keeping me ‘safe’ is my boyfriend’s big contribution.”

The grin on Riptide’s face is a touch sadistic. “Ah, now I’m definitely in. Meeting the boyfriend sounds like a great plan.”

I crack up.