Spring Tide (Coastal University Book 1)

“What’s got my girl so down in the dumps?” Eden asks, slinging one tiny arm around my shoulders. The two of us bump hips, swaying softly as we head out of our Friday lecture.

“Honestly?”

“No, lie to me.”

My shoulders drop with a quiet sigh. “I think I just miss Luca.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

“Kind of?” Eden’s arm slips back down, fingers looped around her backpack straps. “He’s been radio silent all week. I texted him to, um . . . reschedule our hangout, but he never replied.”

“Did something happen between you two? I thought he’d be happy since you officially put an end to Operation Date Nate™️.”

“No, I’m pretty sure that made him happy.” An amused smile quirks my lips. “For some weird reason, he can’t stand Nate.”

She stops in her tracks. “Some weird reason? Yeah, like the fact that he’s in love with you.”

“He’s not in love with me,” I insist, the truth bubbling in the back of my throat. Eden has no clue how off base she is.

“Please.” A snort accompanies the dramatic roll of her eyes. “He totally clams up whenever your name is even mentioned. Have you seen how red his ears get? So adorable.”

“If he was actually in love with me, then don’t you think he would’ve reached out by now?”

“He’s seriously been ghosting you?”

I clutch the hem of my sundress, smoothing the wrinkles out with a few anxious strokes. “I mean, I think something is actually bothering him. But of course, he’s trying to deal with things on his own and shutting me out in the process.”

“Maybe you just need to show him that you’re really here for him. Prove that he can talk to you about anything that’s on his mind.”

“Maybe so.”

“You really like him, don’t you?”

My chest tightens at her suggestion. I glance around the quad, not quite sure what I’m looking for. My gaze flits toward the exposed brick buildings, across the rows of untended garden beds, and lands on a few seagulls huddled around a storm drain. They’re picking at old, discarded food scraps and squawking at each other.

The sight instantly warms my blood, a sweet, honey-like substance trickling through my veins.

“I think I do, yeah,” I finally admit.

Somehow, the revelation doesn’t shock me. I like the way I feel when I’m around Luca. He’s smart, handsome, dedicated, and surprisingly funny. He loves his family with all his heart. He may be guarded, but he’s been revealing all the secret pieces that make him whole.

It’s not a crush, per se, but I’m not really sure what to call it.

“Well, I’m definitely on Team Reynolds, that’s for sure. Same with Stella and Lai’Lani.” She skips over a jutting brick in the cobblestone pathway. “We’ve already discussed this in great depth.”

I scoff, feigning offense. “What about Team Harper?”

“I heard she has enough cheerleaders.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Speaking of—”

“Hey, Princess!” Fletcher’s booming voice carries halfway through the quad. “Wait up.”

Eden slaps a palm across her forehead, groaning as she turns on her heel. “Did you need something?”

“I was just wondering,” he pants to catch his breath, planting both palms on bent knees, “did you already book your room for Hanford?”

“Uh, yeah, I did.” She flashes me an odd look from the corner of her eye. “Weeks ago.”

Fletcher clears his throat, returning to his full towering height. “Did you . . . would you want to drive up there together in the morning, then?”

There’s an awkward pause. Eden shoots me a withering glance, gnawing at her lip while she scrambles for an excuse. “I’m already catching a ride with Harper, sorry.”

His shoulders sag, gaze drifting to meet mine.

“Yup.” I shrug, camouflaging my surprise. “Sorry, Fletch.”

“Right.” A solemn smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Should’ve figured you’d be there to support your boy.”

“That’s right,” I choke out.

Someone should give me an award for fibbing, considering it’s become my full-time occupation now.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you two up there.”

We both watch in silence as Fletcher retreats, his head hung in defeat. I nudge Eden in the ribs once he’s officially out of earshot. “What was that?”

“I know, I totally just threw you under the bus.” She cringes, apology reflected in her eyes. “We’re going to Hanford for the away game tomorrow. We’ll be on the field all night, so you don’t actually have to go with me. Obviously.”

“Wait, that’s a great idea.” I pause for a moment, rescheduling the weekend inside my head. “I could get someone to cover my shift at Amber Isle. You said it yourself, I’ve gotta show Luca how much I really care.”

She loops our arms together, a nervous smile playing on her lips. “So you’ll actually ride up with me, then? Stay the night and everything?”

“Of course. It sounds fun.”

“And you’ll help keep me away from Grant’s hotel room?” she asks in a quiet, pleading tone.

I can hardly suppress the soft giggle that escapes my throat. “Now, that one might be out of my hands.”

“Pleeease, Harper,” she begs, clasping both hands together in front of her chest. “He’s being so goddamn sweet lately. It’s getting too hard to resist. I mean, did you see that shy little act he put on just now?”

I clasp both of her hands in mine, leveling her with an ear-splitting grin. “Maybe it’s not an act.”

Her brows shoot up. “Have you met Grant Fletcher?”

“Very true.”

We resume our walk, heading through the quad in search of the nearest café. It’s a nice afternoon, but there are a few looming storm clouds gathering in the distance, the lingering heat from this morning dipping into sweater weather.

“So you gonna give your boy another call?” Eden nudges me again. “Let him know you’ll be at his game this weekend?”

“I think I might just surprise him, actually.”

I’m fairly rattled by the time Eden and I arrive at the hotel. She’s an erratic driver, the type who likes to duck between lanes to shave off a few extra minutes of drive time. I asked to take over on several different occasions, but according to Eden, I drive like a “retired grandmother who forgot her glasses at home.”

I have great vision and a perfectly clean driver’s record, so I highly doubt the accuracy of that statement.

Once we pull into the parking lot, Eden basically peels into the closest spot near the hotel entrance. The tires on her old Hyundai squeal against the pressure, the car lurches to a sudden stop, and I finally let my head drop back.

After a few calming breaths, Eden clears her throat beside me. “Hey, Harper?”

“Yep,” I murmur, eyes still shuttered.

“Half the team is staring at us right now.”

My head snaps up, gaze darting toward the hotel entrance. Nearly a hundred players and support staff are huddled along the expansive sidewalk, gear and duffles in hand as they await their shuttles.

I eagerly scan the crowd.

Luca’s standing near the back of the flock, broad arms folded across his chest, attention planted firmly on the sidewalk in front of him.

“Go say hi before they get on the bus,” Eden prompts, nearly shoving me out the passenger door. “I have to go catch up with our supervisor.”

“Don’t forget to tell her she’s my idol,” I say, scrambling for my bag in the back seat.

With one strap slung over my shoulder, I smooth down the tangles in my hair and square my shoulders. Internally, I’m freaking out. Externally, I’ve managed to muster up twenty-one years’ worth of confidence.

As I carefully approach, footsteps quietly pattering against the asphalt, a few players nod in my direction. One of them lays a heavy pat against Luca’s shoulder. His head snaps up, body jolting forward at the unexpected impact.

There’s a quiet moment right before our eyes catch. A deep furrow tangles his brow, his warm brown eyes swirling with confusion. He glances around, once to either side, before nodding toward a nearby bench. I trail behind him, chewing at a cuticle as we settle onto the cold wooden slats.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, voice low and measured. It’s not accusatory, but he doesn’t exactly sound excited.

“I came up with Eden to watch you play.”

“Ah.”

“You didn’t answer my texts.” I bite off a tiny sliver of my fingernail, then carefully tuck my hands beneath my thighs. “I’ve been worried about you.”

“I’m fine, just been busy.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Harper.” He manages to plaster on a half-assed smile. “I’m okay.”

“Do you have a room here?” I ask, voice dipping to a whisper. “I could help you with a postgame recovery session if you wanted?”

“I’m driving back tonight. I have an early morning shift at the pier tomorrow.”

The faint, salty sting of disappointment settles in my gut. “Oh, um, yeah. I guess I should’ve realized that.”

“You’re staying, though?”

“Mhm, I’m rooming with Eden.” I attempt a lighthearted chuckle, but the tone is brittle and hollow. “I promised to try and keep her away from Fletcher tonight.”

“Good luck with that. That guy looks at her like a dog in heat.”

I free my hands, tracing the worn initials carved into the bench seat. “You think so?”

“Definitely.”

That brings a genuine smile to my face. “Maybe they should just stop fighting it and hook up again. Might cut some of the tension between them.”

“Didn’t you say they went through a bad breakup not too long ago?”

“Yeah, but—”

“And you think sex is the answer to their problems? Makes perfect sense.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Look, we’re heading to the stadium in a minute.” He avoids my gaze, zeroing in on the shuttles idling under the hotel awning. “I better get going, but thank you for coming.”

“Sure.” I swallow back my words of protest, tucking them into my back pocket for another time.

It’s been an ear-splitting rush of excitement for the past three and a half hours. The student section was small but mighty tonight, especially compared to our traditional home games. It also helps that the Coastal Ospreys decimated the Hanford Hawks, ending the game with a score of 42-14.

Throughout the entire game, I only caught one tiny glimpse of Luca stumbling on the field. I’m not sure how he pulled it off, considering my gaze was laser focused on his knee the whole time. If he was truly in pain tonight, or if he was holding himself back, then I surely would have noticed.

I wait until the majority of fans file out before attempting to find Eden. We agreed to meet near the press entrance to the locker rooms, but it’s proving difficult to push through the media swarm.

I shuffle to the side, pressing onto my tiptoes and using a pillar as leverage.

It takes me nearly fifteen minutes to spot the familiar head of black hair bobbing through the crowd. I suppose I should’ve been looking for Fletcher in the first place, considering she’s tucked against his side now, their hands carefully intertwined.

I clear my throat as I approach them, gesturing wildly to catch Eden’s attention. Once she spots me, she shoves Fletcher out of the way, her cheeks flushing a brilliant shade of red. He leans down, brushing her hair back with a playful roll of his eyes.

They exchange a few hushed words before he turns and disappears into the crowd.

I’m giddy, bouncing on my heels as I ask, “Were you two just holding hands?”

“Kind of.” She groans, rolling her shoulders back. “Okay, yes, we were full-on holding hands. Harps, he’s just so . . . ugh. And he invited me back to his room tonight.”

A teasing smirk lights up my face. “Of course he did.”

“Don’t worry, I told him no. I convinced you to drive up here with me on a whim, so—”

“Don’t let me be the reason you turned him down. If you want to see where things go, I don’t mind.”

Her nose wrinkles with hesitation. “Are you sure?”

“Totally. I’m rooting for whatever makes you happy.”

“Okay, then I think I might go for it,” she says wistfully, pulling out her phone to shoot him a text. “We’ll see where the night takes us.”

I pat her on the shoulder. “Atta girl.”

The majority of the stadium has cleared out by the time we call for our Uber.

We’re standing near the front entrance as the first patter of raindrops starts to fall—thick, fat drops splashing into our hair—which quickly devolves into a heavy downpour. The two of us scramble for shelter under a nearby awning.

Eden swears under her breath, flashing her weather app in my direction. “It looks like there’s an awful storm coming in.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s a tornado warning and everything.” She swipes the rain droplets from her screen, peering closely at the text. “Winds are predicted to be up to fifty miles per hour tonight.”

I frantically yank my phone from my back pocket. “I’m gonna call Luca and tell him not to drive home.”

His voicemail picks up at the same time as our Uber arrives. I leave him a panicky message and shoot off a quick text, piling into the back seat with Eden in tow. By the time we arrive back at the hotel, I’ve called him nearly a dozen times.

“I’m just gonna make one last-ditch effort to reach him,” I tell Eden, eyes darting around the lobby. We’re both soaked to the bone, clothes and hair dripping onto the vinyl beneath our feet. “You can head up to the room and get ready for your night with Fletch.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, go shave and exfoliate and . . . oh my God, did you even bring sexy underwear?”

She gives me a sheepish grin. “I may have come prepared.”

“Should’ve never doubted you.” I shake my head, attempting a tiny smile of encouragement.

“Okay, I hope you get ahold of Luca. I’ll text you when I get to Grant’s room, okay?” She tosses her arms around me, the squelch of our damp clothes eliciting a chuckle from us both. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

Fifteen minutes later, I’m pacing the lobby, repeatedly checking my phone as the first round of players trails inside. It looks like one or two of the shuttles have already returned, yet there’s no sign of Luca in sight.

I’m giving up hope, wondering if he’s headed straight to his car before coming in. I could venture out there, but I’d need something warmer and more waterproof than this thin sweater. Maybe if I run up to our room for just a quick second, then I could be back in time to—

“Harper?”

I whip around at the sound of Luca’s voice. My heart skitters in my chest, relief flooding through every tiny crack and seam. There’s nothing I can do to stop myself from rushing toward him, throwing my arms open, and wrapping myself around his giant frame.

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” I murmur the words against his chest, sinking into the warm feeling of his arms around me. “I thought you were gonna drive all the way home in this storm.”

I pull back, brushing the wet strands of hair from my cheeks. He studies me with piercing scrutiny, eyes silently devouring me before he shakes his head. “Nah, half the team just got back, and the roads are pretty fucking terrible. I, uh, I decided to book a room for the night.”

“You didn’t answer your phone.”

“I had it on silent in the locker room.” He wrestles the device out of his duffle, clicking the side button to illuminate the screen. “Forgot to turn the ringer back on.”

“Oh.”

He glances down at his screen for a long, silent moment. A flush of red heat crawls up his neck and singes the tips of his ears. “You, uh, you called me seventeen times?”

“Yeah.”

There’s a crease in his brow. “You were really worried.”

I tamp down my embarrassment, attempting a casual half-shrug. “It’s . . . windy out there.”

His shuttered expression splits into a lopsided grin. “Yeah, and we’re both soaked. Let me go book a room, and I’ll be right back. Y-you don’t have to wait for me, though.”

“I’ll wait.” I place a soft squeeze against his palm.

He returns a moment later, nervously running his fingers through his damp hair. “They’re all booked up. I’m gonna have to call Coach or one of the guys, I guess.”

“Or you could just stay with me.”

“No, no, that’s—”

“Luca,” I cut him off, pleading with my eyes.

If he stays in our room tonight, then he can’t escape me so easily. It’s a chance for him to open up, to ask for help, to stop suffering in silence. It’s also a chance for me to explore uncharted territory, otherwise known as my unresolved feelings.

“You sure Eden would be okay with it?”

“She won’t mind,” I assure him, wiping the hesitation from his brow. “She’s staying in Fletcher’s room tonight, anyway.”

“So then, it’d just be you and me?”

“Just us.”

He rubs the back of his neck, shoulders dropping. A tiny half-smile pulls at his lips. “Okay.”

“Come on.” I loop our fingers together, tugging him toward the elevator. “Let’s go and get out of these wet clothes.”