Gravel crunched under the tires of Dylan’s Hummer as we coasted to a stop. He knocked my foot from its perch on the back of his seat to get my attention. “Want anything?”

I sat up and glanced around the parking lot of the bait and tackle shop, smiling when I spotted Pedro, the guy who had run the place since we were kids, greeting customers from his spot on the redwood deck.

“Skittles, Red Vines, and Starburst,” I said. “Make it two.”

Dylan reached over and pulled an earbud from Tori’s ear. “You want anything?”

She sat up with a start, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Huh? Oh … cookies.”

Dylan jumped out of the truck and sauntered toward the shack, oblivious to the girls who stopped mid stride to gawk at his rock-hard abs and broad shoulders.

Amused, Tori shook her head at the spectacle. “Hope he doesn’t pick up a girl in there.”

“He won’t.”

With you around.

Tori tugged off her oversized I’m With The Band T-shirt and then adjusted her bikini top. “When’s Beckett coming up? Tonight or tomorrow?”

Averting my gaze from the scars on her back, I sighed. “I don’t know. I’m not his keeper.”

She snorted. “Since when? You might not be riding the boy anymore, but you two are still up in each other’s business.”

Annoyed, I plucked one of the three remaining Starburst from the package. “Beckett does what he pleases.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not telling you where he’s at and what he’s doing.” She turned in her seat. “Especially after what happened with …”

My glare stopped her from finishing the thought. In the six days since I’d walked out of the Parish, I’d spent my time planning the float and tending to business. Twin Souls business. At the moment that didn’t include Chase Noble.

Tori swiped her sunglasses from the dashboard. “Have you talked to him?”

“I’ll talk to him when there’s a reason to talk to him.”

A business reason.

“Fair enough,” she said.

We sat in companionable silence until Dylan climbed into the truck.

“Don’t go into a sugar coma, T-Rex,” he warned as he pitched a small bag at me.

Dumping the contents on the seat, I gleefully examined the assortment of Fireballs, Laffy Taffy, Lemon Drops, and other non-chocolate items. I’d learned the chocolate lesson the hard way when I was fourteen and my Hershey bar melted in the pocket of my cut-offs. I’d walked around all day looking like I had a serious case of Irritable Bowel Syndrome. Rhenn was forced to defend my honor, holding some kid’s head under the murky water until he apologized for insulting me.

My lips tugged into a smile at the memory.

Tearing open a Butterfinger, Dylan popped a piece into his mouth and then fired up the engine. When he looked over his shoulder to maneuver the big truck from the parking space, he caught sight of the longing in my eyes.

“Don’t get this all over.” He tossed the remainder of the candy into my waiting hands. “I’m not kicking someone’s ass if they dredge up your old pet name, Shitty Kitty.”

Tori fused her lips around the straw of her Big Gulp, her eyes widening as she tried to choke down the mouthful of soda. Giving up, she let loose, spewing Dr. Pepper all over Dylan’s pristine dashboard.

“Damn it!” she screeched, pulling long strands of raven hair off her chest.

“That’s what you get.” I smirked, popping in my ear buds to block out Tori’s grumbling and Dylan’s laughter.

We got back on the highway, and moments later, my stomach fluttered at the first sight of the Guadeloupe, peeking through the trees lining the road.

On days like this, none of us wore the personas we donned for the outside world. We were just us. The same group of kids that had climbed these rocks and floated this river since we were old enough to convince our parents to let us navigate it alone.

“What the hell is he doing here?” I shrieked as Dylan pulled to a stop in front of the campground.

Chase glanced our way as he lifted an ice chest from the bed of the Dodge Ram truck.

“Fuck, Taryn, don’t kill me,” Dylan pleaded.

I slapped the back of his head. “Why would you invite him?” I growled.

Dylan’s eyes darted to Tori. “It was her idea. I mentioned the float trip to Logan the night of the show, and she said to invite them.”

He jerked when I kicked the back of his seat. “And you didn’t think to tell me? What the hell were you talking to Logan for anyway?”

Dylan squeezed the back of his neck. “I called them,” he admitted. “I didn’t want them to think we didn’t want them.”

“We?” I challenged. “Did you suddenly decide to leave the stage and start managing talent?”

“You know what I mean,” Dylan said.

Dropping my head into my hands, I sighed. “Yes, Dylan, I know what you mean. Now drive me home. This isn’t my idea of a good time.”

A light tap pinged off the glass, and I lifted my gaze, a handful of my hair still clutched in my fists. A smiling blonde stood at the side of the truck.

“Who’s that?” Tori asked, teeth clenched into a smile.

“How the hell would I know?” I replied as I hit the button to lower the window.

“Hey y’all. I’m Lily. Cameron’s girlfriend,” she said. “Which of you is Taryn?”

Lifting a hand as if she’d just called roll, I mumbled, “Here.”

Her smile grew, if that were possible. The girl was downright perky. “Chase sent me over to ask if you have a mallet.”

“Why?” My stone-cold gaze shifted to Chase, leaning against his truck and sipping a beer. “Does he want me to bury it in his head? That could be arranged.”

Lily frowned.

“That was a joke.” I showed some teeth to prove the point.

“No,” Tori deadpanned. “It really wasn’t. But I know we’ve got a mallet in the back somewhere.”

Lily gathered her long, blond hair in a pile at the top of her head. “Glad to hear it. We need to set up the tent so I can change. It’s hot as balls out here.”

Hot as balls? I snorted a laugh despite myself.

Dylan jumped out of the truck. “Nice to meet you, Lily. I’m Dylan, and that’s Tori.” He stuck a thumb over his shoulder. “And you’ve already met Taryn. She’s our own little ray of sunshine.” He cocked a brow at me as he turned Lily toward the back of the Hummer. “Let me get you that mallet before Taryn finds it and gives it to Chase herself.”

As soon as the liftgate closed, I crawled over the seat. “Get your shit out of the back, I’m going home,” I declared. “You guys can catch a ride with one of the other guys.”

Tori shook her head vehemently. “No way. I’m not getting stuck out here with these idiots. Do you know what can happen in three days on the river?”

Nothing was going to happen, and Tori knew it. It was one of the few places the boys could go without being accosted. Everyone was too interested in making sure their inner tubes didn’t spring a leak to worry about our group of rock stars.

“Look at Chase!” Tori exclaimed. “He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He keeps looking over here like you’re going to climb out of the window any second.”

She craned her neck to get a better view, so I slapped her arm.

“Quit looking over there.” I dropped my forehead to the steering wheel. “This isn’t high school, Belle. And Chase isn’t Beckett. I don’t have to have him in my life.”

When I turned to peer at Tori, she looked very much her age. “You’re right. Chase isn’t Beckett. So maybe you shouldn’t treat him like he is.” When I blinked first, she swung the door open. “Come on. You know you’re staying.”

“Debatable.”

“Suit yourself.” She hopped to her feet. “But if you take the truck I’ll have Dylan report it stolen.”

As soon as Tori joined the group, Chase broke away and walked right over. Reluctantly, I hit the button, and the glass slid down.

Lifting the bottle of beer to his upturned lips, he said, “Why are you hiding over here?”

“I’m not hiding. I’m probably not going to stay.”

His tongue swept his bottom lip. “Don’t let me run you off.”

Glaring, I pushed open the door, knocking him backward. “You couldn’t run me anywhere,” I called over my shoulder as I headed down the path.

He fell into step beside me, suddenly serious. “Why won’t you talk to me. I’ve called and—”

“There’s nothing to say. You lied to me and I—”

“I didn’t fucking lie.” Gathering his composure, Chase blew out a breath. “I just didn’t tell you everything. There’s a difference.”

Tori was right. Chase wasn’t Beckett. But the excuses were the same. “No, there isn’t,” I said, unshed tears burning my throat. “And if you were me, you’d know that.”

Rather than embarrass myself, I turned away and trotted down the path. And when Chase called my name, I broke into a run and didn’t stop until my side ached and I couldn’t breathe.