Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Jess never expected to work at Scoops By The Sea for this long.

When she first got the job there, she figured it would be a summer gig. Freshly sixteen, working at Scoops was going to be her way of making a little extra cash. Never did she think she'd still be working here seven years later, or that it would've graduated from being "a little extra cash" to one of her main sources of income.

All of the people she worked with that first and second summer were gone. Some graduated college, some had bought houses, some had already birthed humans and now walked around town with strollers and diaper bags. But she was still here, scooping ice cream and making cakes and pulling apart horny teenagers who loved to make out in the bathroom or closet.

At least Calvin wasn't planning on leaving. He was in line to be the new manager; Ron announced at their employee meeting last week that Calvin Ball would officially be taking over next summer. He'd always been close with Ron, the only father figure in his life.

Thinking about her own father made Jess sick to her stomach, so she pushed the feeling down like she always did and focused all of her attention on the pile of dishes in front of her, scrubbing the metal cups and utensils aggressively until they gleamed.

Calvin walked through the open doorway that led to The War Room, the tiny room in the back where the real action happened. The front of the shop was for scooping ice cream and serving customers, but The War Room was her domain. The place where she pressed ice cream and chocolate crispies and cold fudge into steel molds, piped colorful frosting, swirled curly letters. Despite spending hours leaning over cake after cake, the work grueling as the busy summer months flew by, she loved it. Whenever she took her deep breaths and counted down from three, her mind drifted to the methodical action of dolloping frosting on cake edges, the soothing motion making her feel a little more at peace.

She dried off the dishes with a rag, placing them on the counter as Calvin unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a safety box. Jess feigned disinterest as Calvin counted the bills before tying them off and stacking them in neat piles on the desk. He marked something on a notepad from the safety box then nodded, stepping away from the desk and walking toward the front.

Jess froze, staring at the piles as she listened to the sounds of Calvin opening up the registers, emptying out the bills. She should keep working, keep going through the motions of closing up the shop so they could get out of there. But she couldn't tear her gaze away from the piles of money.

He wouldn't notice if one went missing , she thought to herself. He's young, he could have miscounted.

And she needed the money—desperately. Charlie may have offered to pay rent this month, but what about next month? Would she have enough to afford her portion of rent and pay for groceries and gas and all the other tedious expenses that came with being an adult? It would be nice to have a little extra, just once. It would be nice to replace some of the clothes she had in her closet, the same ones she's worn since high school, now a little tight and uncomfortable. She made it work, but god , it would be nice to buy a few new pairs of jeans that fit her curves rather than her boyish figure from high school. Or even a jacket that actually kept her warm.

"Everything okay?"

Jess looked up, noticing Calvin had stepped back into The War Room. He was standing there stiff as a board, his hands clutching the money from the registers. The way he was looking at her felt like half warning, half worry. That maybe Jess was capable of swiping a few stacks of bills and bolting.

Embarrassment built up in her throat. She shook her head and waved him off. "Yep, all good."

She could tell Calvin was still watching her warily as she returned to putting the dishes away. She did a final check that everything was locked and sealed, making sure all ice cream freezers were properly closed so there weren't any literal meltdowns in the morning.

Jess stepped up to the desk as Calvin locked the safety box back in the desk drawer. He handed over her tip money for the night and she mumbled a thank-you, stuffing it in the back pocket of her khaki pants as she turned to leave.

"Jess, wait."

She turned, looking over at Calvin who was still sitting at the desk, his elbows propped up casually as opposed to his usual posture of arms crossed tightly around his chest. The way he was looking at her also wasn't his usual tight-ass, militant personality, but one of sorrow. She wanted to throttle him for it.

"Calvin, I've had a long day."

"I heard, working here and Post Road this morning."

She rolled her eyes. Besides Charlie—who never had any need to talk to Calvin—there was only one other person who knew about her pulling a double today. "Let me guess, a certain hippie bike boy texted you."

"He's worried about you."

Jess felt like steam was coming out of her ears. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep, centering breath before continuing. It was the only way she was able to control her anger from spewing everywhere these days. "I don't need his worry, or your worry," she replied, eyes still tightly shut. She didn't want to look at his pitying face. "Everything is fine."

"Jess, I've known you a long time. I know everything isn't fine. You look like shit."

She huffed, daring to open her eyes so she could glare at him. "That's what every girl wants to hear."

"How bad is it?"

She shook her head, looking down at her sneakers. They were the same ones she'd worn on her first day at Scoops, and she realized the frayed canvas near her right big toe had finally ripped into a small, mortifying hole.

The sight of it drained all of her anger, all of her energy, all of her will to try to fight her way out of this conversation. Like soapy water disappearing down the sink. "It's not great," she grumbled. "We're scraping by each month. I'm going to have to work both jobs this summer, and Cory just said he's closing the bakery."

Calvin's eyebrows bent. "Why would he do that? He makes a killing from it, that's the dumbest move."

"I don't think it has to do with money. From the sounds of it, he doesn't want to be competing with Grampy's or even Scoops this summer."

He huffed. "What an idiot."

"But now with Charlie living at home full time, things keep getting more expensive. More food, more gas money, more everything. I feel like…I feel like—"

She looked away, feeling her throat close up. Calvin may be the only true friend she had in this town, but that didn't give him the right to see her break down. She spent so long pushing away the tears and the emotions that she grew accustomed to that numb, hollowed-out feeling in her heart. She almost forgot what the sensation of crying felt like; that stinging feeling in your cheeks and your nose and eyes as tears began to form.

She took another deep breath before continuing, not looking him in the eyes as she finished. "I feel like I'm stuck. Like this is my life forever. That it will never get better."

"Have you told him this?"

"Charlie? God no. He's always so chill about money. He grew up spending it freely, and it never seems to be a problem with him."

"And that bothers you," he said. Not a question.

Irritation pricked her chest as she slammed her hand on the counter. " Of course it bothers me, Calvin. I'm the one constantly trying to budget and keep things afloat, eating fucking grilled cheese for breakfast because there's nothing else in the fridge, and he's off still using daddy's money buying video games and not even offering to pay for stuff unless I beg for it."

"Grilled cheese for breakfast actually sounds kind of good," he mumbled.

She glared at him.

"Is he still working for his father?" he asked.

She nodded, circling her wrist, realizing how hard she slammed it on the counter. She forced herself to relax a little. "Yes, but he's taken on a bigger role since graduating. He's basically his second-in-command now."

"Sounds like he should be making more…" Calvin started, then hesitated. Almost like he was waiting for her to explain the rest of it. To make sense of it.

But there wasn't more to it, and none of it made sense. Charlie was making more money at the boatyard these days, managing their books and their important client relationships. But he was stingy with how much of it he actually spent. His new paycheck was enough for him to split the cost of rent, which did put Jess somewhat at ease after five years of paying it all herself. But then her car broke down in January and needed serious repairs, draining all of her savings from working extra shifts at Post Road, and set her back to living month-to-month. Without any kind of cushion to fall back on this summer, she'd be spending a lot more time in the chip aisle.

She tried relaxing her shoulders as she looked at Calvin. "We'll figure it out, because that's what you do for the person you love. You figure it out."

"And you do? Love him, I mean?"

Jess barked out a laugh. Unbelievable.

"Do you really still want to be with him?" Calvin pressed. "Because by the sounds of it…"

"What, so you fell in love last summer and think you're now the expert here?" Jess snipped at him. She was happy for Calvin, for meeting Melanie and letting his hard edges soften around her, for allowing her to see the dark parts of him that not many people did. Melanie was one of the good ones; one of the only ones Jess felt she could trust with assisting her on ice cream cakes, which wasn't an easy job for her to share. But he was still so young— they were still so young. He had no idea what being in a long-term relationship really looked like.

"I've been with Charlie for almost nine years," she continued. "And in that time, I've learned a lot about what it means to sacrifice and care for someone else. Because that's what you do when you're in a relationship—you sacrifice."

"You don't have to lecture me about sacrifice and caring," he rumbled. "You know better than anyone the shit I've been through. The shit Mel has been through."

Jess rubbed her neck, looking past the windows at the front of the shop, the parking lot outside blanketed in darkness. She knew she was being unfair. Calvin and Melanie both dealt with family members that suffered from addiction. The disease had taken Melanie's brother last summer, and Calvin lost his mother years ago in mind and spirit—lost to the power of pills and her need to constantly have more. He was right—she shouldn't be lecturing him about sacrifice.

"You said you've been in a relationship for nine years," he said, skipping over the fact that Jess was being a complete dick to him. "But you still haven't answered my question."

Her body trembled in panic. Saying "I love you" to Charlie was the equivalent of saying "pass the remote" or "what's the weather." It didn't mean anything, at least not as much as it used to. Their love transformed from a thing of passion and urgency to a thing of sobering calm. No heat. No fireworks. She "loved" Charlie for so long, she forgot what it really meant to be in love anymore. What it felt like.

She figured that was how it went in a relationship—that the intensity softened over the years, that the relationship simply moved into a new phase. You changed. You grew.

Jess brushed him off, trying to make it look casual. "Of course I am, that's a stupid question."

Calvin shook his head slightly, looking defeated. He reached for his phone on the desk. She watched as he read the text that was lighting his screen, a smile curling on his lips. "Kevin says hi."

She wanted to throttle him again. "Tell him to lay off and mind his own business."

Calvin chuckled. "You know that will only entice him."

Jess rolled her eyes. She watched as Calvin began typing.

"Calvin…how bad is it?"

He looked up from his screen, confused.

"The bike shop, his finances," she clarified. "He said he sold his car. It…it can't be good."

Calvin sighed, placing his phone back down on the desk as he leaned back in the chair. "He's doing his best to keep his expenses low, but he's still not bringing in enough business. The car was able to buy him another month or so. But the boost he gets from summer people might not be enough this year."

Summers in Haverport were known as the busy season—the town population tripled with tourists (or "summer people" as they called them) between May and September. Small businesses in town made enough during that short summer season to last them through the dead of winter. But not all of them could survive it, including a charming little bike shop.

"Does he have a plan?" she pried. "Is he going to try to switch things up?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out."

Her brow furrowed. There had to be another way. There had to be. "What would happen if the shop closed? Do you think he'll stay in town?"

Calvin shrugged. "It depends on how broke he is. If things don't turn around, he might move back in with his parents in Vermont."

Jess felt that panic rising again in her chest. Kevin was annoying as hell, but having him around was a constant. Kevin was one of the few people from their graduating class who had done what she did. Knowing he'd chosen to stay and work rather than head off to college had made her feel a little less lonely in this tiny, suffocating town. Even if he drove her nuts.

Calvin stood up, sliding his phone in his pocket. "One more thing before you go."

She looked up at him, his face stern.

"If you ever need money, talk to me," he said.

Jess glared. "I would never ask—"

"I would know if you swiped it from the box," he said matter-of-factly. "So do yourself a favor and avoid that mess. I'm your friend, Jess, come talk to me first."

She huffed.

"Promise me?"

She gave him the finger, heading for the metal back door to exit the shop. "I can handle myself, Ball. Stay out of it."

Charlie was already asleep when Jess got home, so she didn't bother making the trip upstairs. She kicked off her sneakers and tiptoed toward the bathroom, flicking on lights as she went. She glanced over at the table on her way, noticing a pizza box from Penny's sitting on top of her tax papers and receipts from earlier. Her stomach growled as she stopped and flipped the box open, only to find a few crumbs left. She swore softly and discarded it in the recycling bin, trying to not get too angry at the small grease stain that'd leaked onto their bills.

She tugged off her Scoops uniform and tossed it in the laundry basket, then slipped on the sweats she'd left in the corner of the bathroom that morning. As she brushed her teeth, she stared at her reflection in their tiny mirror.

Calvin was right—she did look like shit. The bags under her eyes were more pronounced than they'd ever been. Her lips were cracked, and her face was ghostly pale, like she hadn't seen sunshine in ages. She sighed and spit out the toothpaste, rinsing off her toothbrush. She should probably add ChapStick to her list of groceries to pick up tomorrow, maybe a small bottle of concealer to mask the dark circles around her eyes. Buying makeup wasn't a priority in the budget anymore—it felt a little frivolous. She shook her head and scrapped the idea.

Jess removed her glasses and popped them into her case, then climbed into bed next to Charlie, not feeling the least bit tired despite how long she'd spent on her feet that day. Instinctively, Charlie rolled over, swinging an arm around Jess and curling her close, nuzzling his face into her neck.

During their first few months of sleeping in the same apartment, in the same bed, this small moment each night made Jess's skin prickle with excitement. The way he cuddled her and wanted her close after months of sneaking around. At the time, his neediness was sweet, because she was head over heels. But now? His hot breath smelled like pizza and it kind of made her want to punch him in the face, and she wished for space more than anything.

What changed so much for her to feel this way?

Deep down, she knew. She thought back to the moment when Charlie Sullivan IV went from being a family friend to something far greater, from a boy she used to play with to one she couldn't help but fall for.

It was the summer before their freshman year of high school. Jess and her sister, Dakota, were helping their father at his boatyard after lunch, checking to make sure everyone had their permits, while also checking the docks to make sure the areas were safe and clean. The summer season was about to begin, and the boatyard was now a central hangout spot in Haverport thanks to Mr. Sullivan, Charlie's father.

Before Jess's dad brought him on as a business partner, Cap's Boatyard was rather simple. A place to dock the boat and grab a burger and a cold bottle of beer, maybe some french fries if you got in before they ran out. That was until Mr. Sullivan came along. Cap's exterior went from chipped charcoal paint to a crisp white. The aging rugs were ripped out and replaced by polished wood floors. The plastic table and chairs were swapped with hand-crafted wood fixtures, tablecloths, and plush armchairs. And the menu upgraded significantly—from burgers and beers to oysters and Chardonnay, and a chef who served a breakfast and lunch menu with prices that Jess's father felt the citizens of Haverport would never be able to afford. But the patrons who blew in for the summer—with their motorboats and small yachts—didn't even flinch at the menu. Soon, Cap's became a destination spot for the entire state of Connecticut.

Jess remembered her father's private complaints over how much changed, but he never voiced it to Charlie's father. Business was much better now that he was on board, and their family actually had money to spend. Jess would pretend to side with her father when he grumbled, but she would never tell him how much she loved sneaking into the kitchen, watching as the new chef piped little cakes and topped perfectly sliced fruit on tarts for the guests. She was mesmerized by it, wishing she could learn how to do the same.

That's where she was when Charlie found her that afternoon. Jess kissed her father on the cheek, wishing him luck on the kickoff day of the summer season, and left to go use the bathroom. Dakota had rolled her eyes at her, knowing fully well that Jess intended to slip into the kitchen.

She crouched down and watched from an open archway as Chef Barrios worked meticulously on the dessert for the day—mini strawberry shortcakes with billowing homemade whipped cream.

"Should we steal one?" whispered a warm, familiar voice next to her.

She whipped her head around and covered Charlie's mouth with her hand. "Be quiet or he'll find us."

To her surprise, Charlie kissed the center of her palm. She felt her cheeks flush as she pulled away. "Gross, Charlie."

"Is it that gross?"

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She'd always thought Charlie was cute, but this felt different. Like standing on the edge of a cliff, feeling her body start to tip over. "That's—that's just—"

"Come on, Jessie, you've never thought about kissing me?"

She didn't allow others to call her Jessie—only her family. But Charlie adopted the name quickly after her father had the Sullivans over for dinner two years ago, and the nickname stuck despite her protests. Yet now, with the way his sparkling blue eyes danced in her direction, the nickname on his lips didn't seem so bad. Maybe the taste of his lips wouldn't be so bad, either.

Charlie smirked at Jess's silence, reaching for her hand and squeezing. "Kiss me, Jessie."

She pulled her hand away. "You're crazy."

"You know you want to."

She felt the tips of her ears turn pink and looked back into the kitchen. Chef Barrios was lifting a pan of strawberry shortcakes, heading in their direction.

She reached back for Charlie's hand and dragged him into a tiny alcove, out of sight. Chef had a habit of reprimanding anyone who entered the kitchen without his permission.

Her heart was hammering in her chest as she listened to the metal doors leading to the dining room swing open, the small crowd applauding his entrance.

She didn't take notice at all of the ways their bodies were pressed together, not until Charlie traced his fingers up her side then curled a hand around her back. Goosebumps flecked her arms as she looked up at him, his face dangerously close.

"Don't you want to know?"

"Want to know what it's like to be kissed?"

"Not just kissed," he murmured, cupping her head with his other hand. "What it's like to be kissed by me ."

The thudding of her heart grew louder in her ears as Charlie brushed her cheek with his thumb, waiting.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I want to know."

He smiled, pressed his lips to hers, and completely changed her world.

From that very first kiss, Jessica Valerie had been in love with Charlie Sullivan IV.

Yet now, as she relived the memory in her head, she couldn't summon those tingling feelings it usually pushed to the surface. The way he so boldly grabbed for her and took the plunge, tipping over that cliff from friendship and diving into something more.

Instead, she felt hollow, and she wondered if she would ever feel that way again.