The sun is starting to rise in the sky above my house, illuminating my green Jeep Cherokee in its golden warmth as I step out of the front door. Today is going to be a much-needed day of surfing because after the events that unfolded this weekend, and Brodie's showing up so unexpectedly, I need a sunrise and wave cocktail. Particularly, one strong enough to make me forget about the three-worded statement I almost heard fall from his lips, and more importantly one potent enough to convince me that he wasn't saying what my heart secretly wanted to hear. Because here's the thing about words, they're loud, but actions are so much louder and if I've learned anything from what's happened in the past, it's that I tend to trust words way too easily. I'm not doing that this time though because young and naive Lelani Kahale doesn't exist anymore and I'm done having my heart broken over insincere promises.

My hand reaches for the handle of the car door, but as soon as my skin meets against its metal, a voice calls out behind me. "Lela!"

I turn to my Momma, who's now sticking her head out of the front door, her arm waving a lunch box in her hands. "Can you run this by your Dad's work this morning, honey? He forgot to take it with him again."

"Seriously?!" I groan, throwing my head back in defeat and dropping my beach bag down onto the driveway. I don't want to be even 20-feet from that place because I know who will inevitably be there, and I'm not up for any more reunions, especially ones involving Brodie Dawson. "Can't you take it? That's practically on the other side of the island from where I'm headed."

"I can't, I don't have time to stop. I've gotta head straight into work after I drop your brother off. Wayne said one of the grills is acting up again and I have to call in maintenance to get someone to come and take a look at it. It'll only take a second for you to drop it off- in and out. Please, Lela."

But she doesn't understand that it won't be just an in and out for me because my mind is going to be stuck there all day. My mind is going to be stuck there with a handsome Marine, Brodie, all day rather than focusing on the waves, and at that point, I might as well not go surfing at all. My eyes cut to her's, skimming down the rest of her face and taking in her downward turned lips.

"Dammit," I mutter under my breath, giving in to her requests as I stomp back her way. My hands snatch the lunch box out of her hands and I pivot on my heel quickly, darting straight back to my car.

"Thanks, sweetie," she laughs at my annoyance, blowing me a kiss goodbye.

"Yeah, well, you owe me," I bite back, rolling my eyes as I clamber into the driver's seat, tossing my beach bag and the lunch box into the empty seat beside me. As soon as I'm in the car, I crank on the engine and turn up the radio as loud as I can because I need something to drown out the thoughts racing through my head right now. The chorus of Olivia Rodrigo's song Favorite Crime blares through the speakers, forcing my teeth to bite down hard against my bottom lip as my ears take on its conveniently fitting lyrics.

"All the things I did, just so I could call you mine. The things you did. Well, I hope I was your favorite crime."

Not being able to take the sting of the music anymore, I slam my palm against the volume dial, putting an abrupt stop to the song and deciding to ride in silence instead.

This is going to be a long freaking drive.

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I'm standing outside the double-door entrance of my Dad's work- correction: my Dad's, Uncle Robbie's, Brodie's, Hammond's, Delk's, and Murphy's work- my feet not wanting to progress forward another inch because of who I know is inside. My heart beats relentlessly inside of my chest and I spend the next minute convincing myself that this isn't as big of a deal as I'm making it out to be and I'm just overreacting.

You're just coming to bring your Dad his lunch, Lelani. It's not a big deal. In and out. In. And. Out.

Reluctantly, I sling open the metal barrier in front of me, opening it quickly so as to not make any more excuses for myself. My legs move fast, carrying me through the airplane hanger back towards my Dad's office. Sounds of drills and metal tools clinking together fill my ears, but I restrict my eyes from following the noise, keeping them planted on the steel beams lining the ceiling above me instead.

Suddenly, vicious whispering carries my way, followed by a few sets of whistles. My fingers clench hard onto the lunch box in my hands, anxiety rippling through me as I can't help but assume that the immediate racket is directed towards me.

"That's her," I hear a man's voice hush out from a distance. "That's Campbell's daughter."

"Damn."

"She looks better in person," another voice interjects, slightly louder this time. "Looks like she's matured a bit, huh, fellas?"

Despite the warmth I can feel rising to my face and the rapid pulse in my neck, I keep a firm stance, pretending their words aren't affecting me the way they actually are as I dart an indignant glare in their direction. My stare is met with several pairs of eyes, at least six or so, and the men chuckle and laugh to themselves, feeling entertained with their ability to grab my attention so easily.

"Hey there, pretty thing," one of them call out to me, wearing a smug smirk across his face. "We heard you've got a thing for older men. Is that true?"

"Yeah," another one interjects, nudging his friends with his elbow, "I've got a thing for younger ones, myself."

Knots twist through my stomach, making me feel sick as the muscles in my body start to go weak. I keep my feet moving towards the door and go to pull my stare away, but a dark set of irises catches my attention and makes me stop in my footsteps. Hammond wears an indifferent expression, shamefully darting his eyes to the floor as soon as I notice and find his presence. The group of men around him continues their harassing, shooting inappropriate comments my way, but now my head is too fuzzy to comprehend a single thing falling from their lips. It's not like he owes me anything, especially after the way I turned him down a few months back, but it still seems to sting watching him sit back so idle and silent through his friend's venomous words.

"Coward," I mutter quietly to myself, feeling a hard lump form in the back of my throat. He's just as bad as they are because being non-compliant in situations like these is just as bad as being compliant.

I bite back the sudden hurt now swimming through my veins, refusing to let their immature and misogynistic comments affect me anymore as I continue making my way back to my Dad's office. The door is already open and I rush through it, shutting it quickly in an effort to separate myself from the humiliation waiting for me outside.

My eyes land on the person behind the desk positioned in the middle of the room, and instantly I speak out, "Uncle Robbie?"

"Hey, kid," he smiles. "What brings you in here, huh? Don't you have a competition to be preparing for?"

Immediately, his warm and familiar voice puts my nerves at ease, and I settle into the plush chair situated in the corner of the office as I answer, "Dad forgot his lunch again."

My hands plop the lunchbox down against the desk and he chuckles, "Sounds about right."

"Where is he anyway?" I question, glancing around the room, my voice still coming out a little shaky from some residual anxiety.

"He had a retirement ceremony to attend at 12:00 today, so I'm in here handling some of his paperwork." Robbie looks me over, noticing my hands as they fidget in my lap. "Everything alright?"

"Uhh, y-yeah. Why wouldn't it be?" I stutter, rising from the chair because I want to get out of here before he can ask me another question. As much as I'd love every single one of those men outside to get in trouble, the last thing I want is to be stuck here any longer, trapped in their presence. I also don't want to rehash the memories I've tried so hard to leave in the past, so I quickly blurt out, "Can you just tell him that I stopped by?"

"Sure thing, kid. And hey," he mentions with a grin, "I told you things would work out, didn't I? He won't shut up about how well you did at that mock competition. He's so proud of you."

"Really?" I ask sheepishly, feeling my cheeks blush.

"Really," he smiles. "Your Momma, too."

Now I'm smiling so big my cheeks are hurting, forgetting about anything and everything that happened only minutes before those words left his lips because nothing compares to hearing that my parents are proud of me. Proud of me for doing something that I love, and trusting in me that I have the capability to do it. Trying to hide my overjoyment and keep my cool composure, my hand reaches for the door. I turn my head back one more time before heading out, joking, "Tell that old man to quit forgetting his lunch, will you?"

"You got it," he chuckles, returning his eyes to the computer in front of him and resuming his work.

I shut the door closed behind me, walking my way back through the airplane hanger once more as I make my way to my car. The walk back feels so much longer than the walk-in, and with every second I'm not back at my vehicle, my mind is more fearful that those men are going to try stopping me again.

Proving my assumptions right, boots clunk behind me, paired with sinister laughter, and the sudden noise puts my senses into overdrive. I turn quickly, putting my back to the exit as my eyes recognize the three men now approaching me.

"Don't be shy," one smirks, "You certainly didn't seem to be in those pictures."

My jaw tightens, and I take a step back as I spit out, "Fuck off. There aren't any pictures."

"Sure there are," another one interjects. "We've all seen them. Don't look so embarrassed. They were nice. You're practically a legend around here."

Now my heart is beating so hard in my chest that I'm afraid that they can hear it, and all I want to do is get the hell out of here. All I want to do is escape the trap of embarrassment that they've caught me in, so I fall silent and make my way towards the door again.

"Hey, hey hey! Wait," a voice requests, a tall body rushing in front of me and stopping me from taking another step more.

"Get the hell out of my way," I order, keeping a stern tone.

"We just wanted to talk," he assures me. "Because I have a theory. Well, I should say we have a theory," he motions back to his two friends.

"Just leave the girl alone dude." Immediately my ears recognize the voice and my eyes look past the three men.

"Buzz off, Hammond."

"Now, as I was saying," the main instigator continues, "We have a theory that you actually released those photos yourself. You know, maybe as a way to get back at your precious little boyfriend for breaking up with you."

"I broke up with him," I argue the truth, shaking my head feverishly because I can't believe this is actually happening right now. "Now, move the fuck out of my way."

"She said to move," Hammond repeats, stepping closer to the three men and I'm thankful that he's not choosing to sit silent through this one.

"Fuck off, dude." The stranger walks closer my way, pulling his phone from one of his camouflage pockets. His fingers tap on the screen a few times, and he pauses for a moment as his eyes take in the picture that's he has pulled up. "Maybe we could do a reshoot?" He smiles cockily.

I don't give myself time to think anything through as I leap for the cellphone, gripping onto the edge of it as I try my hardest to rip it free from his hands. "Give it to me!"

He pulls back, tearing it away from me with ease as he laughs, "I thought you said there weren't any pictures, pretty thing?"

"Give it to me, dammit!" I order, darting for the phone again but failing horribly. My stare goes to Hammond just as his gaze falls to the floor, refusing to watch the scene in front of him any longer and now I'm sure that I'm alone in this. "Give it to me now!"

My hand swipes at his and the phone begins to fall from his grasp, causing us both to rush after it as it crashes onto the floor. A set of arms wraps against my waist, pulling me back and putting me at a disadvantage as they yank me farther away from the phone.

"Get your hands off of me," I holler, the sudden attention making whoever's holding me free his grip on me instantaneously.

Everything is happening so fast that my mind barely has time to process it all, but my eyes fall back in the direction where the phone fell and my stomach drops as I watch a set of hands pick it up. My gaze stays pinned on the device as it rises off the floor, and my heart shatters as I watch Brodie skim over the picture I know is looming on its screen.

His lips straighten out and a look of disgust crosses his face. Brodie glances my way for a moment before his glare pins itself onto the man in front of him, who warns, "Dawson, if you know what's good for you, you'll give me that phone back."

"You're fucking sick," he spews back, his jaw tightening along with his palm's grip on the phone. "Do you understand that having this is illegal, you bastard? She was underage."

"I'm serious man, give it back." The man steps towards Brodie, trying to snatch it from his hands, but coming up short. "If she didn't want it to get out, then maybe she shouldn't have taken them in the first place."

The statement immediately triggers Brodie's anger, his face instantly turning red as his expression grows harder. After a couple of taps against the screen, I watch him toss the phone down onto the cement floor before stomping it relentlessly with his steel-toed boot until all that's left of the device is shards of glass.

"What the fuck!" The man practically screams, scrambling to the floor to somehow try and revive the shattered electronic.

My throat burns, mortification coursing through my veins because now Brodie knows everything- he's seen everything- and now he understands what happened with Jason. I feel humiliated, stuck in a spotlight of shame and the only thing I can seem to do is run. I sprint out of the hangar as fast as I can, trying to escape the nightmare I just left behind and convince myself that all of this is just a bad dream. My eyes burn with tears as I reach my car, but a gentle set of hands touches my waist, halting me as I reach for the handle of the driver-side door.

Naturally, I turn, and in an instant Brodie's arms embrace me as he hushes out, "I'm so sorry, Lani. I'm so sorry they did that to you."

My head falls against his chest, and I cry, unable to hold back my tears any longer. "I didn't know they still had them."

"Shhh," he comforts me, letting me know that I don't need to explain myself. His fingers intertwine into the hair on the back of my head, pulling me closer to him. "It's not your fault, okay?"

"But it is," I whimper, "I took those pictures, Brodie. Jason asked me to take them and I did willingly. I should've known better. He promised me he wouldn't show anybody, but he did. He showed everyone and I should've known better."

"Stop, Lani," he winces, pulling my head away from his chest with his hands and forcing me to look at him. "It's not your fault, alright? Nothing you did ever made it okay for him to ask that of you. It never made it okay for him to show them to anyone. He was an adult and you were a teenager. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I almost cost my dad his job," I snivel, pulling my eyes away from him onto the pavement. "If I wouldn't have taken them, none of this would have ever happened."

"Look at me," he says, but I can't seem to bring my gaze back to him. Gently his knuckles brush underneath my chin, his touch compelling me to meet my eyes to his despite how much I don't want to. "You didn't know any better. He took your innocence and used it to his advantage. It's not your fault, and I'm so fucking sorry that, that happened to you."

His fingers brush against my wet cheeks, ridding my face of my tears as he places a sweet kiss against the hair on the top of my head. Once more, I fall into his hold, feeling completely safe in the security of his arms.

He does care about me.

"You don't have to worry about it anymore, okay? I deleted them. They're gone for good."

"Thank you, Brodie," I hush out with a sniffle.

"Don't thank me," he mumbles back.

We're quiet for the next several minutes, Brodie leaning against my car as I lean against him. His fingers trickle down my back, and at this moment, I'm praying for them to never leave me. My eyes cut to the sky, now darkened with grey clouds. On cue, a raindrop falls against my skin and I look up to the handsome Marine holding me, afraid that this moment between us is about to end.

His brown eyes shift to the closed door of his work and then back down to me. "You want to get out of here?"

I contemplate the question for a moment, knowing how badly I want to say yes but also hesitant to so easily agree given our recent circumstances. "You've got work," I say reluctantly.

"It can wait."

"If my Dad finds out you left, he'll grill you."

"I can deal with it," he smirks. Again, he asks, "Do you want to get out of here, Lani?"

Shaky breaths leave my mouth, and the way he's looking at me right now makes them grow even heavier. More rain starts to pour from the sky, cooling my skin and making goosebumps rise against my arms.

Finally, I answer, "Where did you have in mind?"

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