Page 44 of Oh, Puck!
"Not weird at all. Come on."
I spend the next ten minutes showing her through the mansion, watching her eyes widen at the many bedrooms, thehuge main bathroom with a clawfoot tub she declares 'her dream' and the study I've barely ever stepped in.
Eventually, we make our way back out into the main foyer, her fingers trailing along the driftwood banister as we move. Then, as we reach the bottom step, I catch the soft intake of breath when she sees the infinity pool glowing against the sunset.
"You wanna see the deck?" I ask, enjoying this more than I thought I would.
She smiles with a nod. "Yeah. Then I'd better get going."
The scent of Diego's dinner still lingers in the air, but they have all moved inside to the dining table. Beck and Mason give me a wink as we step through the kitchen, and Diego tops up Josie's glass.
The moment we step outside, the noise of the house fades.
The deck stretches out before us, a sprawling wooden paradise that overlooks the pool and, beyond that, the dark, endless expanse of the Pacific. The sound of waves crashing against the shore fills the silence as Josie lets out a slow breath, her shoulders dropping as she takes it all in.
"Okay," she says, her voice quiet. "I get it now."
"Get what?"
"The whole'I don't want to work'thing." She turns to me, a small, almost wistful smile playing on her lips. "If I had a place like this to come home to every day, I wouldn't want to do any work either."
I lean against the railing, folding my arms over my chest.
"It's not bad."
"Not bad?" She laughs, a soft, surprised sound. "Declan, this is insane. You have a private beach. An infinity pool. Ahouse managerwho makes margaritas appear out of thin air."
We stand there for a moment, the silence oddlycomfortable. This can't be the same person I've been butting heads with all week. This feels too easy.
"Can I ask you something?" she says, sipping her drink.
"Depends on the question."
The fairy lights swinging between the palms shine across her face, and I watch her tongue dart out to collect the droplets of margarita on her lips.
Damn. She's pretty.
"Why did you come to Beachside? I mean, really. You could have gone anywhere. All three of you could have played for any team. But you chose a brand-new franchise that was basically a gamble from day one."
I'm quiet for a moment, weighing my options.
"Because it was easy," I finally say. "Just hockey and the beach and… nothing else."
"Nothing else?"
"Yeah." I roll my shoulders and move to stand beside her, looking out to the ocean. "I've spent my whole life being responsible. Being the one everyone leans on. So… I thought if I came here, it could be my turn to just… coast.Me.Not anyone else. For once, I wanted to put myself first."
She studies me, her gaze searching. "And has it worked?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "You tell me. You're the one who's been trying to get me to care."
"I'm not trying to get you to care. I'm trying to get you totry."
"What's the difference?"
She steps closer, and my heart starts hammering again.
"The difference," she says, her eyes burning into the side of my face, "is that caring means you're afraid of losing something. Trying means you're willing to fight for it."
