Clarissa's POV

Damon walks into the room, and he senses the tension right away. I’m not sure if he’s here to see Atticus or me.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“I’ve just heard from Autumn that I’m not the only one who had eyes for another woman while dating Anya. It turns out you did too,” Atticus answers him. “Do you mind telling me who that woman is—or was?”

Damon quirks a brow at him and shoves both hands into his pockets. “I don’t know what Autumn is talking about. Maybe she can enlighten both of us.”

I’m surprised that Damon can act so calmly under these circumstances. I’m already sweating profusely, and I’m not even the one being questioned.

Atticus looks at his wife, waiting for her to explain.

“I misspoke,” she says quickly. “I thought I heard Damon once saying that there was a girl he liked, but clearly, I heard wrong. Maybe he was referring to Anya, and I misinterpreted what he said. I was kind of eavesdropping on the conversation.”

Atticus exhales loudly. “If there wasn’t another woman, why did you decide to end the wedding?”

Damon looks irritated by the question. “Do we really need to speak about this now? I thought we all admitted it was a good idea to forget about that. So many horrible things happened that day, and all I want to do is forget about it.”

Atticus gives up after listening to him. “Forget I said anything. Is everyone finished packing?” he asks, checking his watch. “We need to leave in five minutes.”

“Yes, we’re all packed,” Autumn says as she shoves more bikinis into my bag before zipping it up.

Damon glances at me for a quick second, and I try not to fall on my face because of the hungry gaze in his eyes. When I look up, Atticus is watching me, and I know my cheeks must be bright red.

I don’t wait for Atticus to examine my reaction to Damon. Instead, I practically run out of the room with my bag.

“Wait,” Atticus calls after me.

“What?” I ask, praying it’s nothing to do with Damon.

“We haven’t discussed who’s going in which vehicle,” he answers.

Oh.

I usually ride with Damon, but things aren’t exactly perfect between us. If I go with him, the entire drive will be awkward. But if I act like I don’t want to go with him, Atticus will know something is going on.

“Clarissa will come with me,” Damon answers for me. “Just like she always does.”

Atticus nods and grabs Autumn’s bag. “Let’s go.”

I follow Damon to his jeep; Willow and Dante are already ahead of us.

“Who will Griffin be riding with?” I ask.

“He already left behind Dante,” Atticus informs me. “He knows Autumn takes forever to pack.”

She playfully hits his arm before getting into the jeep.

Damon opens the door for me, and I quietly get in.

I can’t shake the feeling that this isn’t a good idea. I can think of so many ways this could go wrong.

I don’t know what to say or do to ease the tension between us.

I try to distract myself with the wind blowing through my hair and the soft music on the radio. Even the moon looks extra beautiful tonight. Things would be perfect if Damon and I were on better terms.

Halfway through the drive, I notice Damon’s hands tighten on the steering wheel like something is bothering him. I’m shocked when he pulls over to the side of the road.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, concerned.

His eyes are closed, and he covers them with one arm.

He raises a hand to stop me from talking. “I just need a second.”

I wait in silence until he finally pulls back onto the road. I’m not sure what just happened, but I wish he’d say something.

“Are you going to tell me what just happened?” I ask.

His jaw clenches, and he ignores me. Doesn’t he realize by now that it irritates me when he ignores me? It was a simple question. Why couldn’t he answer me?

“Damon?” I ask again.

“No,” he finally answers.

I frown.

No?

It bothers me that he’d just said no.

I stay quiet for a few more minutes until I can’t control myself anymore.

“Why?” I ask. “Why can’t you tell me?”

He sighs. “Clarissa, would you please just drop it? It’s nothing for you to be concerned about.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m not going to drop it. I want to know why you had to stop the jeep and why you looked like you were in pain!”

I’m not happy when we pull into the driveway of the beach house. We’re already here. I’m disappointed that I didn’t get an answer.

“You’re not going to tell me?” I try one more time.

He exhales and grips the steering wheel, even though we’ve arrived. “If I tell you, it will go against what you want. I don’t want to do that.”

My forehead creases. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not going to drop this, are you?” he asks, tongue in cheek.

I narrow my eyes. “No.”

He doesn’t say anything as he jumps out of the driver’s side and slams the door shut. I lean back against the seat, closing my eyes in frustration.

I can’t believe him.

My eyes fly open when I hear footsteps.

Damon opens my side of the jeep and helps me out. I’m confused when he leans closer.

“The reason I stopped is because of you.”

I hold my breath, unsure of the point he’s trying to make.

“Because of me?” I ask quietly.

His eyes reflect regret as he whispers, “Yes. Your scent travels much faster with the wind. It filled the f***ing jeep. It consumed me. I had to stop. I had to stop before I lost all control.”

W-what?