t's not until the next day that I finally gather the courage to tell Jordan. What with the hurricane watch and the weather picking up, I figure there isn't much time before there's full-blown warning, making leaving the house impossible.

I shower and change, slipping into a tank top and shorts before grabbing my bike. As much as I want to avoid this conversation, I need to tell Jordan about the fundraiser and just get it over with.

Jordan isn't at the New Wave inn, so I head to the cafe next. Overhead, the sky has turned an ominous gray, and there's a warm, gentle static in the air – a storm is coming. I pedal faster, trying to get to the cafe before the first raindrops fall, but I'm not quick enough. By the time I pull up, the sky has opened up and released its fury on the island, soaking me to the bone.

For a second, despite being soaked, I just stare at those same cracked shutters and pastel blue walls. My eyes shift to the peeling paint around the window frame, then drop to the wilting Frangipani flowers. They might not look as zestful as they did when I was little, but the thought of them not being here, even in their current state, feels like a knife to the chest. Dad's right though, as much as I love this cafe, it isn't my mother.

Shoulders back, I head into the cafe and hover in the door, surprised to see it so busy. I'm not sure if it's a lingering buzz from the recent scavenger hunt or the upcoming storm that has caused the surge in business, but either way, both Lina and the other waitresses are running around, trying to keep up. Kali is busy boarding up one of the windows, but he stops when he sees me, blows a curly tendril from his face, then grabs an apron from the counter and throws it at me.

"I don't care," he says when I raise my eyebrows. "Let that city boy come after me. We need your help. Go dry up and help out, will you?"

My hands fasten the apron faster than humanly possible. It seems absurd that anyone would want to work, but God, I've missed this. I grab a towel and head into the bathroom, squeezing out the excess from my hair. When I'm finished, I still look like I've been for a swim, but at least I'm not leaving a puddle in my wake. Straightening up, I head back onto the floor and grab Kali's arm, forcing him to look at me.

"Where's Jordan?" I ask. There's a nervousness behind my voice that isn't like me.

"Not here," Kali says. "Said he had some errands to run and would be back in a little while. Come on, come on, get a move on." He starts hurrying me toward a table, so I roll my eyes, still smiling, and serve the nearest customers.

In some ways, I'm relieved that I get to postpone my talk with Jordan. I get to pretend a little longer that everything is fine, that we didn't just lose our last chance at saving the cafe. I get to pretend that Jordan and I could happen for real and not just in my head.

I'm busy serving tables, having forgotten how demanding some of the customers can be, but I don't mind really. It's nice to be back in my element, to work here one last time before it's sold. It's almost like closure.

When Jordan walks in, time stops. He's wearing a black hoodie with the hood pulled up, shielding his face, but as soon as he yanks it down, my heart flips. It doesn't seem to matter what the weather, he always looks effortlessly handsome.

As though he can feel me watching, he looks over. He smiles like it's the first thing he thinks of to do around me, but it drops just as quickly, something dark clouding his features.

"He knows," Lina says as she walks to her table.

Of course he does, because there's no such thing as a secret on the island. I straighten out my apron, take a deep breath, and start my walk over. He's already over to the counter when I get to him, pretending to clean an invisible mark on the wood.

"You here to tell me we can't talk anymore?" he asks.

I watch as his biceps flex beneath the pressure of his scrubbing. He's concentrating hard, eyebrows furrowed, refusing to look up. "It's the logical thing to do," I say.

He nods curtly. "Your call. As always."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said."

"God, not again," Kali groans as he walks past. "Is there ever a moment when you two aren't arguing? Take it outside, will you?"

I narrow my eyes, but Jordan grabs my hand before leading me out back. It feels so natural and comforting to be holding his hand that as soon as we're outside, I drop it.

"Look," he says, turning to face me, "you should know that there's a couple from the mainland who want to buy the cafe. That's what I was doing this morning."

My eyebrows fly up. "That was quick."

He shrugs and says, "They came to me a few days ago. I didn't know what would happen with the fundraiser, so I told them I'd get back to them."

I nod. It's about all I can do. "Did they mention what they have in mind for the place?" My heart is racing. I'm bracing myself for impact.

"They want to keep it as a cafe," he says.

The relief that floods through me is unmistakable. "Really?"

He nods. "I can't promise that they won't turn it into something besides a seafood place, but at least it's not a Tiki bar."

I smile a little. It's not exactly the miracle I'd been praying for, but it's better than what could have happened. Maybe I've just got to realize that things don't always work out the way I want them to. Sometimes, the things I love must be sacrificed.

"If you give me your bank details, I can transfer the money from the scavenger hunt," I say. "You can still use it to help your mom."

He shakes his head. "People donated that money to help the cafe, not to pay my bills – I wouldn't feel right about keeping it. You should donate it to charity or something."

"Oh, okay." I let a moment pass. "So, does this mean you're leaving?" Even though I know it's ridiculous, a part of me hopes he'll say no.

"Next week," he says. "I need to get back to my mom. The sale of the cafe can be finalized without me here." Even though it shouldn't, even though going our separate ways was my idea, hearing he's leaving still hurts. His eyes soften now. "But it doesn't mean–"

"It does," I say. An army of raindrops are pounding the patio roof, but I'm certain from the way his eyes darken that he's heard me. I realize how abrupt it had sounded, how cold, so I add, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." He steps forward until we're dangerously close. "Be honest." He shakes his head, and I can see he's trying hard to understand. "I don't get it, Evvy. What are you afraid of? What happened to that fearless girl who jumped off the top of a yacht?"

His gaze is so intense that my heart is pounding into overdrive. I never get this way around boys, I never feel like this. But somehow, Jordan has caused the impossible.

"She lost her mom," I say, "and she was forced to get a reality check. We both know the moment you move back to Chicago, we'll stop talking. At least this way, it's something we both agree on. Something we see coming."

Because that's what I'm scared of, I realize. Not the possibility that it might happen, but the not knowing either way. I hadn't known the day my mom died that it would be the last time I'd see her. I'd been blindsided, and the pain of losing someone so suddenly was unbearable. I don't ever want to feel like that again.

"Why would we just stop talking?" he asks.

"Because that's how life goes, Jordan. Do you know how hard it is to keep up with someone living in a different state? People try their best at first, but after a few weeks or months of talking long distance, it catches up with you. Hell, even when Lexi went to the mainland for college we hardly spoke, and she lived an hour away. It's just impossible, and I'd rather we just avoided the whole thing, okay?"

Jordan's still looking at me like he thinks I'm insane, but I can tell he's tired of arguing. Finally, he says, "Look, I need to go. The inn is talking about possibly evacuating people, and I need to pack just in case." He stops and bites his lip like he wants to say more, but he doesn't.

Instead, he turns, about to step into the torrent of rain, when I say, "Wait." He turns just as quickly, eyes cautious. "You can't stay in a shelter," I say. "Come and stay with us until the storm passes. As friends, I mean."

He pauses for a moment. He didn't see this coming. With a brief look at my lips, he says, "I don't think that's such a good idea."

He's one hundred percent right, but the thought of him riding out a possible hurricane alone makes my heart hurt. "Come on, Jordan. The locals always ride out hurricanes at home, and you shouldn't be alone when you're, you know."

He grins now, eyebrow raised. "Terrified of storms?"

I smile despite myself. "Exactly."

He slowly runs a hand down his jaw, deep in contemplation. Everything is so messy right now, and him staying at our house only complicates things further, but at least I'll know he'll be okay.

"All right," he says. "I'll grab my stuff and meet you back here."

I nod and watch him retreat into the rain, suddenly feeling weary. Between the cafe being sold and the upcoming storm, it feels like everything is about to implode – I just hope I can avoid the fallout.

❤️