CHAPTER 3:

Emma woke to sunlight streaming through the gauze curtains, the sound of waves a gentle rhythm beneath the cry of seagulls. For a moment, she forgot where she was, then it all came rushing back.

The beach house. Marcus. That moment on the deck when she'd said too much.

Maybe I'm not interested in boys my own age.

She groaned and pulled the pillow over her face. What had she been thinking? He probably thought she was some silly teenager with a crush. Which, to be fair, she was. But she didn't want him to know that.

Her phone showed 8:47 AM. A text from Lily had come in at 2:13 AM: staying at Jake's cousin's place, dad knows, back for lunch tomorrow, sorry!!! love you

So much for midnight curfew. Emma smiled despite herself. At least Lily was having fun.

Which meant Emma was alone in the house with Marcus for another day.

Her stomach flipped, and anxiety and anticipation tangled together.

She showered and dressed carefully, choosing a sundress that was pretty but not trying-too-hard, then ventured out into the house. It was quiet except for the distant sound of the ocean and... typing? She followed the sound to an open door off the living room.

Marcus sat at a large desk surrounded by blueprints and architectural drawings, his laptop open in front of him. He wore reading glasses she'd never seen before, and his hair was slightly mussed, as if he'd been running his hands through it. He looked younger somehow, or maybe just more approachable.

"Morning," she said from the doorway.

He looked up, and for a split second before he caught himself, she saw something in his expression, pleasure? Relief? Before it smoothed into a polite welcome.

"Good morning. I hope the typing didn't wake you."

"Not at all. I'm usually up early anyway." She gestured to the blueprints. "Is this the project Lily mentioned?"

"Yeah. Community arts center downtown. It's been consuming most of my time lately." He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "I'm supposed to be on vacation, but..."

"But you can't quite turn it off," Emma finished. "My mom's the same way with her café. She's physically present on vacation but mentally still making menu plans."

He smiled, a real smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. "Exactly that."

"Can I see?" Emma stepped into the office before she could second-guess herself.

Marcus hesitated, then gestured to the drawings spread across his desk. "It's still rough. The client keeps changing their mind about the main entrance."

Emma moved closer, genuinely interested. Architecture had always fascinated her, the way buildings could shape how people moved and felt and interacted.

She studied the elevation drawings, the floor plans, and the 3D renderings on his computer screen.

"It's beautiful," she said softly. "I love how you've incorporated natural light everywhere. And the way the performance space flows into the gallery..."

"You can read blueprints?" There was surprise in his voice.

"A little. I took a drafting class junior year, and I've always been interested in design." She traced a line on one of the drawings. "What if you did the entrance here instead? It would give people a view straight through to that courtyard you've designed. Make them want to explore."

Marcus leaned forward, studying where she was pointing. His arm brushed hers, and Emma's breath caught. She could smell his cologne, could feel the warmth radiating from his skin.

"That's... actually a really good idea," he said slowly. "It would require reworking some of the structural support, but it might solve the flow problem the client's been worried about." He looked at her with something like respect. "You've got a good eye."

Their faces were close now, closer than Emma had realized. She could see the silver threaded through his dark hair, the faint lines around his eyes, the shadow of stubble on his jaw. His gaze dropped to her lips for just a moment before he pulled back abruptly.

"I should make coffee," he said, his voice slightly rough. "Have you eaten?"

"Not yet."

"Come on. I'll make breakfast."

In the kitchen, they fell into an easy rhythm, Marcus scrambling eggs while Emma sliced fruit and made toast. It felt domestic in a way that made Emma's chest ache.

She could imagine mornings like this, the two of them moving around each other with comfortable familiarity.

Stop it, she told herself. You're torturing yourself.

They ate on the deck, the morning sun warm on Emma's shoulders. The ocean was calm today, glittering like scattered diamonds.

"So," Marcus said, setting down his coffee mug. "About last night. What did you say?"

"I shouldn't have said that," Emma interrupted, her face heating. "I was being…"

"Honest?" He held her gaze. "Emma, I need you to understand something. You're eighteen. You're Lily's best friend. You're a guest in my home. Whatever you're feeling, or think you're feeling…"

"I know what I'm feeling," she said quietly. "And I know all the reasons it's wrong. You don't have to list them for me. I've already listed them for myself about a thousand times."

Marcus was quiet for a long moment. "This summer," he finally said, "let's just... let's just try to have a good time. As friends. Can we do that?"

It wasn't what Emma wanted to hear, but she understood what he was really saying: I can't go there with you. Don't push this.

"Friends," she agreed, even though the word tasted bitter. "Sure."

The tension between them eased slightly, though it didn't disappear entirely. They spent the morning at the beach, and Marcus brought down his laptop to work under an umbrella while Emma swam and read.

It should have been peaceful, but Emma was hyper aware of him nearby, of the way his eyes followed her when she came out of the water, of how he quickly looked away when she caught him watching.

Around noon, Marcus's phone rang. Emma watched his expression shift from neutral to concerned as he answered.

"When?" A pause. "No, no, it's fine. I understand. Yeah, tomorrow's better anyway." Another pause. "Tell her I said to have fun. Okay. Bye."

He lowered the phone and sighed.

"Let me guess," Emma said. "Lily's not coming back until tomorrow?"

"Jake's family invited her to stay another night. She sounded so excited, I couldn't say no." He ran a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry, Emma. This isn't the vacation you signed up for."

"It's okay. Really." And strangely, it was. Despite the tension, despite the impossibility of what she wanted, she was enjoying this time with Marcus. Getting to know him as a person, not just as her best friend's father.

"How about this?" Marcus said. "There's a great seafood place in town. Let me take you to dinner tonight. Make up for Lily abandoning you."

Emma's heart skipped. "You don't have to…"

"I want to." His blue eyes were warm. "Besides, I could use a break from the house. And the company."

It wasn't a date, Emma reminded herself firmly. It was just dinner. Two friends are having dinner.