Beckett’s POV
Thoughts of Elodie’s love life, brings Murphy to mind, easy and charming, clearly enjoying whatever rapport he'd built with her over that ruined batch of dough, and something tightens uncomfortably again, my hands tightening around the guard rail instinctively. He's better positioned for this than I am, in every way that matters. No history. No wreckage between them. No six years of abandonment hanging over every conversation like a shadow neither of them can quite outrun.
He’s obviously interested, I could see it in the way he interacted with both Elodi and Callie, a thought that bothers me way more than I have the right to admit.
The ocean keeps churning below, indifferent to any of it, and eventually I give up entirely on the idea of sleep, stepping back inside and pull
