Chapter 5 Starlight and secrets

The evening air in Saltwater Cove was soft, laced with the scent of jasmine and the ocean's briny kiss. Lila stood on the deck of the Harper house, her fingers curled around a glass of sparkling cider, the bubbles catching the glow of string lights strung above. It was her twenty-third birthday, and the backyard was alive with Claire's version of a celebration-white tablecloths, a catered spread of crab cakes and bruschetta, and a handful of neighbors mingling with forced smiles.

Claire had insisted on a "proper party" to show off the house before tomorrow's open house, but Lila would've preferred pizza with Mia at The Salty Bean. Still, the ocean's steady hum and the stars peeking through the dusk made it bearable.

Lila wore a simple sundress, pale blue like the tide pools she loved, her auburn curls loose and wild. She felt out of place among Claire's polished guests, her sneakers scuffing the deck as she scanned the crowd. Mia was late, probably wrestling with a canvas or her ancient car, and Claire was holding court by the buffet, her laughter sharp and practiced. But Evan-Evan was impossible to ignore. He stood near the railing, a beer in hand, his white button-down open at the collar, his dark hair catching the light. He was talking to old Mr. Callahan from the bakery, but his eyes kept finding Lila, quick and fleeting, like waves brushing the shore.

Since their moment painting the boat yesterday, when his thumb had grazed her cheek and set her heart alight, Lila had been caught in a whirlpool of feeling. Every glance, every word from him felt like a secret only they shared. She'd told herself to stop-Mia's warning still rang in her ears-but her heart wasn't listening. It was reckless, dangerous, and so achingly sweet she could barely breathe.

"Lila, sweetheart!" Claire's voice cut through her thoughts, bright and commanding. She swept over, her blonde hair sleek, her dress a tailored cream that screamed success. "Mrs. Ellison wants to hear about your internship. Come charm her-she's got connections at the marine institute."

Lila forced a smile, her grip tightening on her glass. "Sure, Mom."

Claire's eyes flicked over her, assessing. "You look nice, but maybe next time wear heels. Makes a better impression." She turned to Evan, her smile tightening. "Evan, keep an eye on the caterers. They're slacking on the appetizers."

Evan nodded, his expression neutral, but Lila caught the flicker of tension in his jaw. "Got it," he said, his voice even, but his eyes met Lila's for a brief, searing moment before he turned away.

Lila followed Claire to Mrs. Ellison, a silver-haired woman with a penchant for loud jewelry and louder opinions. She listened politely as Lila mumbled about her tide pool research, but her mind was on Evan-on the way he'd called the boat sturdy, like her, on the way his presence felt like the only steady thing in this sea of strangers. When Mrs. Ellison finally drifted off, Lila slipped away, her heart pounding as she headed for the edge of the deck, where the crowd thinned and the ocean sang louder.

She leaned against the railing, staring at the waves, their silver tips glinting under the rising moon. The party's hum faded, and for a moment, she was alone with the sea, her oldest friend. But then she felt him-Evan-before she saw him, his warmth a quiet presence at her side.

"Escaping already?" he said, his voice low, teasing, but with a gentleness that made her chest ache.

She glanced at him, her lips curving despite herself. "You caught me. I'm not exactly the party type."

He leaned on the railing beside her, close enough that she could smell his cedar-and-salt scent, feel the heat of his arm near hers. "Could've fooled me. You look like you belong out here, under the stars."

Her breath hitched, and she looked away, her cheeks warming. "Flatterer. You're just trying to avoid the caterers."

He chuckled, the sound soft and unguarded. "Guilty. But I'd rather be here with you than refereeing shrimp skewers."

Her heart did that infuriating skip, and she clutched her glass tighter, the cider's bubbles fizzing against her fingers. "Careful," she said, her voice light but trembling. "Claire might notice you're slacking."

His smile faded, and he looked out at the sea, his jaw tight. "Claire notices a lot of things," he said, his tone quieter now, laced with something heavy-regret, maybe, or resignation.

Lila wanted to ask what he meant, to peel back the layers of his marriage to her mother, but the words felt too big, too risky. Instead, she followed his gaze to the ocean, the waves a mirror of her own restless heart. "What do you see out there?" she asked, her voice soft. "When you look at the water."

He was quiet for a moment, his fingers tracing the railing's edge. "Possibility," he said finally. "Like anything could happen if you just let it. What about you?"

She swallowed, her throat tight. "Home. But also... freedom. Like it's calling me to be something more."

His eyes met hers, and there it was again-that current, electric and undeniable, pulling them closer. "You're already something more, Lila," he said, his voice so soft it was almost lost in the waves. "You don't need the ocean to tell you that."

Her heart pounded, and she felt the weight of his words, sweet and heavy, like a shell pressed into her palm. She wanted to say something, to bridge the gap between them, but the sound of laughter broke the spell-Mia, finally arriving, her paint-splattered jeans a stark contrast to the party's polish.

"There you are!" Mia called, weaving through the crowd, a gift bag swinging from her hand. "Happy birthday, mermaid. Sorry I'm late-my car's a diva."

Lila laughed, relief washing over her as she hugged Mia. "You made it. I was about to send a rescue party."

Mia grinned, handing her the bag. "Open it later. It's a sketchbook for your starfish obsession. Figured you could use it." Her eyes flicked to Evan, sharp and knowing. "Hey, Caldwell. Not stealing my best friend on her birthday, are you?"

Evan raised his hands, his smile easy but his eyes guarded. "Wouldn't dream of it. Just keeping her company till you showed up."

Mia's eyebrow arched, but she didn't push. "Good. Lila, come dance with me. This party needs some actual fun."

Lila hesitated, glancing at Evan, who nodded, his expression unreadable. "Go on," he said. "I'll survive without you for a song or two."

The words were light, but they landed heavy, and Lila felt a pang as she followed Mia to the makeshift dance floor near the buffet. The music was some upbeat pop Claire had chosen, and Mia pulled Lila into a goofy twirl, her laughter infectious. For a moment, Lila let herself get lost in it, spinning under the string lights, the ocean a steady backdrop. But her eyes kept drifting to Evan, now talking to a neighbor, his posture stiff, like he was holding himself together.

"Earth to Lila," Mia said, snapping her fingers. "You're a million miles away. What's up?"

Lila shook her head, forcing a smile. "Just... birthday overload. Too many people."

Mia's eyes softened, but her voice was firm. "Or too many feelings. I saw you with Evan. Be careful, okay? That's a storm you don't want to sail into."

Lila's stomach twisted, Mia's words echoing her own fears. "I know," she whispered, but her heart wasn't so sure.

As the song ended, Claire's voice rang out, calling everyone to gather for a toast. Lila joined the crowd, Mia at her side, and felt Evan's presence nearby, a quiet anchor. Claire raised a glass, her smile radiant but practiced. "To my beautiful daughter, Lila, on her twenty-third birthday," she said, her eyes on Lila but her tone performative. "May this year bring you success, love, and everything you dream of."

The guests clapped, and Lila forced a smile, her glass raised. But as her eyes met Evan's across the crowd, his gaze soft and unguarded, she felt the weight of Claire's words-love, dreams, everything she couldn't have. The moment stretched, starlit and fragile, until Claire's hand on Evan's arm broke it, pulling him into a conversation with a client.

Lila turned away, her heart aching with a sweetness she couldn't name. Mia squeezed her shoulder, whispering, "You've got this," but Lila wasn't so sure. As the party swirled around her, the ocean's call grew louder, and she knew one thing for certain: Evan was her storm, her starlight, and she was already caught in his tide.