espite being open since before I was born, I have never seen the inside of the New Wave inn. It's pretty, if not exactly the kind of room I'd imagine Jordan to stay in.

Its four walls are coral, and the double bed in the middle is draped in fancy pink cushions and quilts, with a large bay window that overlooks a portion of the beach.

Rain pelts the windows, and when another crack of thunder sounds out, Jordan flinches. I hurry to the window and close shut the curtains, blocking out the storm. We're soaked to the bone and shivering like leaves. With the curtains blocking what was left of the light, the room is almost pitch black. Jordan moves to the light switch and gives it a flick, but the storm has cut off the power.

"This is like my worst nightmare," Jordan says. My mouth falls open. I'm truly offended. "I don't mean being stuck with you," he adds. "I just mean being trapped in a storm with no power."

I sigh and go to sit in the armchair before thinking better of it. I'm still dripping wet. "It's fine."

Jordan looks over, his eyebrows furrowed. "There's an unused nightgown in the bathroom. No point sitting in wet clothes." He disappears into the bathroom before coming back out with a white, fluffy gown.

I take it from his hands and ignore the little excited jump in my chest when our fingers brush. I've had more fun today than I have in a long time, but I need to remember what he's really on this island for. "Thanks," I say, and then I disappear into the bathroom and take off my wet clothes, letting them fall to the floor.

In the mirror opposite, I can just about make out the silhouette of my face and body. If I could see my expression, I imagine I'd look nervous at being here with Jordan. He's still a boy, after all–a handsome one.

Back in the main room, Jordan has already stripped off his clothes and is sitting in a black tee and sweatpants. He takes me in, too. "You don't look so good."

I smile and say, "We both know that's a lie." I hover awkwardly. If the power were on, I'd make us both some tea with the kettle, but instead, I stand nervously, not quite knowing what to do with myself. The room is small, just big enough to fit the table, armchair, and double bed, which means there's no escaping Jordan.

"How should we pass the time?" Jordan asks.

I look at him and see his eyes have darkened. He's thinking dirty things, I can tell, because I'm thinking them, too. "Not like that."

He grins and says, "Get your mind out of the gutter, Evvy. I wasn't thinking that."

I ignore him and sit on the bed opposite, trying to cross my legs in this ridiculously large gown. "So, what did you think of the sanctuary?"

"I liked it." He looks up now. "You know I always wanted to be a vet?"

This surprises me. "You did?" He doesn't strike me as the type to be cooing over animals.

He nods. "I was obsessed with animals growing up. I had this big dog called Bear, and we used to do everything together. Sit in my treehouse, go swimming, watch movies. While other kids had actual friends, I just had Bear."

I laugh a little, because I'm imagining him as a little kid, and it's so cute.

"Then he got sick," Jordan says. "There was nothing we could do for him, so we took him to the vet. I stayed with him while they put him to sleep. I guess it made me want to do something to help other animals."

My expression softens. "Well, do you still want to be a vet?"

"I did in high school," he admits, "but I was also a pretty bad kid. Got crappy grades, didn't make it to college. Not that I could have afforded it anyway. My construction job pays okay though, so it's not too bad."

He looks up now, and I look at him through my lashes. "You could always stay on the island," I suggest. "Run the Big Fish Cafe. Jordan–what's your last name?"

He grins. "Woods."

"Jordan Woods, owner of the Big Fish Cafe. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?"

He shakes his head, but the smile is still there. "You're devious, you know that? Always some ulterior motive with you."

I laugh a little. "I'm not scheming. What if I just like your company?"

His eyes grow wicked. "You like my company?"

"I said what if, not that I do."

He leans in closer. "Sounds like semantics to me."

I swallow hard. I want to kiss him so badly that if he leans in another inch, I'll be doing just that. So I pull back a little and look around the room, trying to think of ways to pass the time. "How about we play truth or dare?" I ask. It's a game we played all through middle school and high school, because when you live on an island, there's not a lot else to do.

A crack of lightning sounds through the room, and bright white flashes leak through the edges of the curtains. Jordan tenses and looks back at me before nodding. "I'll go first," he says, his voice low. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." I don't have to be able to see his face clearly to know he's disappointed by my choice. I think I've gotten away with it, too, that he'll ask me something I can easily answer, but he clearly has other ideas.

"Who's been your best kiss?" His gaze looks boyish and innocent, but I can see the wickedness underneath. Somehow, he knows that it's him, and I hate it.

"They've all been pretty sub-par."

His voice drops a note or two. "You're a terrible liar."

"I'm not lying. Who's been your best kiss?"

The corner of his mouth twitches. "It's not my turn."

"It is," I say. This is what I get for choosing truth. "I just answered."

He leans in closer until his face is near mine. "Your answer wasn't satisfactory."

My breath hitches in my throat. I've been desperate to taste his lips since that kiss, and now they're just in my reach. "Tell me," I say, searching his face. "Who was your best kiss?" I can't help it, my ego is on the line.

His eyes flit to mine, dark and suggestive. "No one stands out."

I scowl and he laughs like I'm too damn predictable. "Fine. Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

I look at his lips, which are pink and full, and demand to be kissed. "I dare you to kiss me."

For about a second, he is still. His eyes meet mine, trying to determine whether or not I'm playing with him, and some part of me is, but the other part of me also just really wants to be kissed. Not just kissed, but kissed by him.

He brings his hands to either side of my face and kisses me. Everything about him is fiery and warm: his skin, his mouth, his touch; my body is on fire and we've only just begun.

He lowers me onto the bed before moving on top of me. I pull off his t-shirt, exposing his hard, muscled stomach in the dark. His mouth lands on mine again while his hands slip beneath my robe.

I know I should stop this, know it's going to end badly if he sells the cafe, but right now, I can't think straight. All I can think about is how this boy has fallen into my lap out of nowhere. I'd been miserable before he arrived, reeling from a breakup and dreading starting college, and now I'm excited, happy, even if I know it might not last.

My arms wrap around him, pulling him closer. He nibbles my lip before parting my mouth with his tongue. I have never been kissed like this, not even by Ryan. I don't know if it's because Jordan is just an exceptionally good kisser, or if it's the chemistry between us, but this feels different from anything I've experienced. I can't get enough.

His hands trail my body, moving up the length of my stomach before brushing my chest. I close my eyes, shivering at the touch. Locked away in this dark room together, it almost feels like nothing else exists, like we're the only two people left in the world. My hands explore the rest of his body. The storm has cast a dark, cold haze across the room, but the feel of his skin on mine keeps me warm.

When he kisses my neck, I lose all restraint. I take his face in my hands and move his mouth back to mine, desperate to kiss him again. After a minute or two, I can't help but ask, "Am I your best kiss yet?"

I feel him smile against my mouth. "Yes."

I smile back, just as my stomach explodes into butterflies.

❤️