Page 84 of Island Girl

They stood there for a moment, the silence stretching between them like a rubber band pulled too tight. Merritt could still feel the ghost of his lips on hers, the way he'd pulled back, the apology tumbling out of his mouth as he'd fled into the night.

“I wasn't sure you'd come in today,” he said finally.

“I'm on the schedule.”

“I know. I just thought maybe you'd want more time.”

“I've had enough time.” She grabbed an apron from the hook by the door and tied it around her waist. “I need to work. I need to feel normal.”

“Okay.” He stepped aside to give her room behind the bar. “I'll be in the back if you need anything.”

“Justin, wait.”

He stopped, his hand on the kitchen door. His shoulders were tense, his jaw tight. He looked like a man bracing for impact.

“We should talk,” she said. “About what happened.”

“We don't have to.”

“I think we do.”

He turned around slowly. The bar was empty, the chairs still stacked on the tables, the string lights not yet turned on. It felt like standing in a theater before the show, everything waiting, everything still.

“I'm sorry,” he said. “I shouldn't have kissed you. It was wrong. You were grieving, you were vulnerable, and I took advantage of that.”

“You didn't take advantage of anything.”

“I did. You were crying, and instead of just being there for you, I made it about something else. That wasn't fair to you.”

Merritt leaned against the bar, her arms crossed over her chest. “You make it sound like you forced yourself on me. You didn't. It just happened.”

“It shouldn't have happened.”

“Maybe not. But it did.” She took a breath. “And for what it's worth, I didn't mind. In the moment, I mean. It felt nice.”

Something shifted in his expression. A crack in the armor he'd been wearing since she walked in. “It did?”

“Yeah. But that doesn't mean it was a good idea.”

“No. It wasn't.”

They stood there, looking at each other across the empty bar. The morning light was coming through the windows, catching the dust motes in the air, making everything look soft and slightly unreal.

“I'm not in a place for anything romantic,” Merritt said. “You know that. My life is a mess right now. Gregory just died. Ray is missing because of something I did. I'm still figuring out who I am and what I want. The last thing I need is to complicate things with a relationship.”

“I know.”

“And you're my boss. Kind of. It would be weird.”

“It would be weird,” he agreed.

“So we should just be friends. That's the smart thing to do.”

“It is.”

“Good.” She nodded firmly. “So we're agreed. Friends. Nothing more.”

“Friends. Nothing more.”