Chapter 8 Chapter Eight

Chapter 8 Chapter Eight

Ari groaned as she rolled out of bed, hair sticking up in every direction, head pounding. The morning light streamed through the curtains, and she squinted, trying to remember anything from last night. Bits of the party flickered through her mind—the fire, the laughter, The too friendly stranger and Maddy—but the walk home was a complete blank.
She stumbled toward the kitchen, still woozy, grabbing a glass of water and downing half of it. Ugh… note to self: never drink that much again, she muttered, swaying slightly on her feet.
Her phone buzzed. Gavin. She squinted at the screen. “Hey… made it home okay?”
She blinked at the message, trying to steady herself. Yeah… I guess… she typed back. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… hungover lol.”
She chuckled softly to herself, shaking her head. He probably thinks I’m so dramatic. And he has no idea… She felt that familiar flutter in her chest—the one she’d been trying to ignore. Secret, hidden, and complicated. She could never let him know how she felt, not yet.
On the other side, Gavin read her reply and frowned slightly. The casual tone, the little laugh at the end… it all made him more alert than he wanted to admit. He knew she didn’t remember anything from last night. But the way she was behaving—still flustered, still slightly unsteady, still… her—it made his chest tighten.
He typed back, careful, neutral, trying to keep the tone light:
“Good. Drink some water and try to eat something. Don’t overdo it.”
He set his phone down and leaned on the porch railing, scanning the faint movement inside her house. She had no idea, none at all. And yet, just seeing her—even like this, hungover and clumsy—made him want to do more than just watch.
Gavin exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. For now, he’d stay put. He’d keep his distance, keep his cool… and wait.
But the slow pull between them, unspoken and simmering, made it impossible for him to completely turn away.
Gavin’s phone buzzed, pulling him from his watchful perch on the porch. He frowned at the screen. Mara.
He hesitated, then swiped to answer. “Hey,” he said, trying to keep his tone neutral.
“Gavin,” her voice was sharp, tinged with frustration. “We need to talk.”
He ran a hand through his damp hair. “Uh… sure. What’s up?”
There was a pause on the other end, a quiet tension that made his chest tighten. “I just… I need to know where we stand. And, um… I want to ask something. Do you… have feelings for Ari?”
Gavin froze, caught between the truth and keeping the fragile boundaries Mara thought they had. He let out a slow breath. “Mara… it’s complicated.”
“Complicated?” she snapped, the irritation clear now. “You were with me last night, and yet—”
“I know,” Gavin interrupted, keeping his voice calm. “Look, I’m not going to lie or make excuses. But right now… I need to focus on things my way. Can we talk later? Not about this, okay?”
Mara’s sigh was sharp and frustrated. “Fine. But you better not be hiding anything from me.”
Gavin rubbed his forehead, trying to suppress the tension rising in his chest. “I’m not. Just… give me some time. I’ll figure it out.”
The call ended, leaving him staring at Ari’s house next door. Mara’s voice still echoed faintly in his mind, but he pushed it aside. His focus was on Ari—for now, keeping her safe, keeping the tension between them simmering without letting anything explode.
He set the phone down, jaw tight. He wouldn’t lie forever, but he also wouldn’t let Mara complicate what was already… delicate. Not yet.
And as he leaned back against the porch railing, eyes flicking toward Ari moving slowly in her kitchen, he reminded himself: she didn’t know. She didn’t remember. And he had to keep it that way, at least for now.
Josh stepped out onto the deck of their beach house, squinting against the morning sun. Across the way, Gavin was leaning casually against the railing of his porch, eyes subtly flicking toward Ari’s house.
Josh grinned, raising a hand in a mock salute. “Morning, Miller,” he called out. “Keeping tabs on my sister, huh? You know, I’m gonna have to be the watchdog around here.”
Gavin glanced over, smirking faintly. “Morning,” he replied casually. “Just… enjoying the view.”
Josh laughed, leaning against the railing. “Sure, sure. I see how it is. You think you can sneak glances at Ari and get away with it, huh? Well, consider me the official neighborhood surveillance.”
Gavin’s smirk deepened, though his eyes returned quickly to Ari’s house. “Noted,” he said lightly. “I’ll… try to stay out of trouble.”
Josh waved a hand, pretending to look serious. “I’ll be keeping an eye on both of you, Miller. Don’t make me regret it.”
Gavin chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Understood, watchdog.”
Josh laughed again, tossing his head back before heading inside. He had no idea about last night—the walk, the tension, the confession. All he saw was his sister moving around the house, still a little clumsy from the party, and Gavin quietly keeping watch next door.
Gavin’s jaw tightened slightly, watching Ari stumble through the kitchen. Josh’s joke lightened the moment outwardly, but the slow-burn tension simmering between him and Ari was still very real—and entirely unobserved by anyone else.
I groaned as I stumbled into the kitchen, head pounding and mouth dry. The sunlight streaming through the curtains felt sharper than it should, and I squinted, trying to make sense of anything from last night. Bits and pieces floated in my mind—the bonfire, the drinks, laughter—but the walk home? Totally blank.
I grabbed a glass of water and chugged half of it, wobbling slightly on my feet. “Ugh… never again,” I muttered to myself, though I knew I’d say that every time after drinking too much.
Josh was already in the kitchen, flipping through a magazine. He glanced up and grinned. “Morning, Ari. You okay? Or do I need to start my watchdog duties over here?”
I blinked at him, swaying slightly. “Uh… yeah, I think I’m fine,” I mumbled, trying to focus. The thought of last night was fuzzy, but there was this weird flutter in my chest that I couldn’t place. It’s nothing, I told myself, brushing it off.
Josh leaned casually against the counter, smirking knowingly. “Don’t worry, I’m watching you. Can’t let you make any… questionable decisions today.”
I laughed weakly, ignoring the small, lingering feeling in my chest. “Thanks, watchdog,” I said, swaying a little as I tried to pour myself another glass of water.
From the corner of my eye, I caught movement across the way. Gavin. He was leaning on his porch railing, eyes subtly on me, but acting like he wasn’t. I froze for a second, feeling my stomach tighten. Why is he even awake this early?
He gave a small nod when he noticed me looking, and I quickly looked away, trying to act nonchalant. My heart was doing something weird, but I chalked it up to leftover dizziness from last night.
I stumbled toward the fridge for some juice, feeling clumsy and fragile. Every movement reminded me that I was still recovering, and yet… I couldn’t help sneaking glances at him, even if I didn’t want to admit it.
Gavin’s figure stayed there, quiet, almost watchful. And somewhere deep down, I had this feeling that he wasn’t just being neighborly. But I told myself I was imagining things. It had to be nothing.
I was about to take another sip of water when my phone buzzed on the counter. Groaning, I wiped my hands on my shorts and picked it up.
It was Gemma.
“Hey… sooo… about last night… the walk home with Gavin… how’d that go? 😏”
I blinked at the message, my brain still fuzzy from the hangover. I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the keyboard. What am I supposed to say? I didn’t remember much after the beach, and the details of the walk home were completely hazy.
I typed back cautiously:
“Uh… it was fine, I guess? I don’t really remember much lol. Why do you ask?”
A few seconds later, her reply came through:
“Just curious 😅 You seemed… different? Like he was looking out for you or something.”
I frowned, trying to piece it together. “Looking out for me? Huh… maybe. He probably just didn’t want me falling on my face again.”
Her next message made me snort softly, even with my throbbing head:
“Yeah… that’s probably it. But you know, he’s Gavin. Always has a way of… being Gavin 😏”
I laughed weakly, shaking my head. “Right… always Gavin. Got it.”
I glanced toward his porch again, half-expecting him to be watching, though I tried not to think about it too much. Something about the way Gemma was teasing me made my chest flutter, but I pushed it aside. It’s nothing. Just my hangover talking.

I shifted uncomfortably, still clutching the dish towel like it could somehow protect me. Gavin’s eyes didn’t leave me, calm and teasing, and every glance made my chest tighten. I cleared my throat, trying to sound casual, but my voice came out a little higher than intended.
“So… uh… breakfast?” I offered weakly, gesturing toward the counter.
Gavin tilted his head, smirk tugging at his lips. “Breakfast, huh? Or just an excuse to avoid answering my question?”
I blinked, heart skipping. “I—no! I just… uh…” My words tangled, and I waved vaguely at the counter like it would explain everything.
He leaned closer, resting an elbow on the counter, letting the smirk linger. “Hmm. Sure. You don’t have to tell me. I can tell when someone’s flustered.”
I froze, cheeks flaming. “I’m not flustered!” I insisted, though my wobbling stance and quickened heartbeat betrayed me.
Gavin chuckled softly, a sound that made my stomach do that weird flutter again. “Right. Not flustered at all,” he said, letting the teasing linger in the silence.
I fumbled with a glass, trying to pour water without spilling, hands shaking slightly. “I—I need to drink more water,” I muttered, taking a long sip to hide the heat rising in my face.
He leaned back, eyes still on me, the smirk never fading. “Yeah, hydration. Very responsible,” he said, voice low enough that it sent a shiver through me. “I like responsible.”
I swallowed hard, heart hammering, and mumbled something incoherent, too embarrassed to even form a proper sentence.
And Gavin just watched, calm,
teasing, letting me unravel just enough to make the tension between us impossible to ignore.