Spring Tide (Coastal University Book 1)

“You have a bye week, right?”

Harper’s lying stomach down on her bed, kicking her feet into the air while she doodles the circulatory system. Much to our mutual annoyance, we’ve spent all of our free time together this week studying. It’s a delicate balance between football practice, two sets of classes, my chaotic work schedule, and her internship.

“Yes, thankfully,” I say from my spot at her desk. There’s a physics journal sitting in front of me, but I can’t be bothered to open it. “I could use the break.”

She shuts her notebook, perching herself into a seated position. “Did you want to do something for Halloween? The baseball guys invited me and the girls to a party on Saturday.” She clears her throat, attempting a casual smile. “Nate specifically told me to bring you.”

A hot spike of jealousy pangs in my gut. “Nate?”

She hasn’t so much as mentioned his name for weeks, but I know she’s still working with the baseball team. That can’t be avoided. Besides, I’m fairly certain this thing between us is exclusive.

Shit. It is exclusive, right?

“He’s trying to be nice, I think. Make up for being—”

“A complete dipshit?”

“You could call it that, but he has been really nice the last couple of weeks. Not that we talk often, just when we’re on the field or in the gym,” she rambles on, eyes wide. “So, what do you think?”

“Ah, I might be busy.”

Her smile fades, and it makes me want to slap myself.

“I know it’s not really your thing, but it could be a good chance for us all to hang out. You’ve met my friends, but we haven’t spent much time together as a group.”

“I was actually hoping to go home this weekend and see my family.”

That piques her interest. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I wanted to invite you along.” I brace myself for rejection. “But if you have plans . . .”

“No, I’ll definitely go with you.” She pushes off the bed, settling herself onto my lap and wrapping both arms over my shoulders. “I don’t have a costume yet, anyway.”

“Okay, yeah.” I press a quick kiss to her forehead, fighting a grin. “We’ll go on Saturday afternoon, then. We can eat dinner with my parents and hang out with the kids for a while.”

She bounces on my lap, eagerly pressing her nose into the crook of my neck. “That sounds great.”

I hold her in my arms for a few minutes, running my hands through the ends of her golden-brown waves. I curl one thick strand around my index finger and lightly tug. “Harper, are you sure you don’t want to go out with your friends?”

She nudges me playfully, shaking her head. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

One good thing about visiting home is that we live less than twenty miles from Boyer. It’s a quick trip, one I could easily pull off on a random weeknight. Yet I haven’t been back here in months. As we merge onto the exit, I let my shoulders drop, guilt swirling in the pit of my stomach.

“My parents are a little overbearing, but they mean well.” I anxiously tap my fingers against the center console, one hand braced on the steering wheel. “They’ll probably hound you with questions about me.”

Her hand covers mine, instantly settling my nerves. “And what should I tell them?”

“Whatever you want.” I flip my palm to intertwine our fingers. “Just don’t mention my injury, obviously. They’d go postal.”

My parents have six offspring, so they’re familiar with all sorts of aches and tears and sprains. I wouldn’t call them protective, necessarily, but my mom thinks I’m too hard on myself already. She projects that energy onto my dad, who then forces Taylor to look after me.

I’m already an adult man living with his older sister. There’s no part of me that requires three separate parental figures, especially when it comes to problems I can solve myself.

“Easy enough.”

“My brother, Elio, is likely gonna be in a bad mood. I promise it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

Elio’s pretty much always in a sour mood these days. At least, he is whenever I’m around. He seems angry at the world in general, for reasons I can’t even begin to understand. It’s not like he has anything concrete to complain about. Our parents are practically saints, and our younger siblings are perfect.

“Noted,” she says with a soft smile.

“The twins, Mia and Vivia, they’ll probably just be doing their own thing all night. They like to hide out in their room to play video games or whatever. My mom usually makes them something special for dinner and brings it to them. It’s ridiculous.”

“How old are they?”

“They’re turning fourteen in a few months. I didn’t realize how scary middle schoolers could be until last year.”

“Hey!” She pins me with a harsh look. Or her best attempt at one anyway. “Those hormone fluctuations can be really tough on a young girl.”

I stifle a laugh at her expression. “I believe you.”

We round the corner, slowly pulling into my parents’ driveway. A prickle of irritation dots up my spine as I take note of Elio’s missing car. He won’t pick up my calls, and now he’s missing from our family dinner? The kid clearly doesn’t give a shit about me.

“And your youngest sister?”

I turn my attention back to Harper. “Giorgie’s non-speaking, so she uses her iPad as a communication device. She’ll probably warm up to you pretty fast, though.”

“Sounds good.” She squeezes my hand, gesturing toward the front entrance. “I think I’m ready to go in now.”

A wave of discomfort washes over me. “Okay.”

“Are you ready?

“Yes,” I say unsteadily, the nerves still racketing around my brain. I’ve never intentionally introduced a girl to my family before. With Sofia, the two of us were friends long before we were romantically involved. It was a natural, slow progression from acquaintances to friends to dating, and my family was involved from the get-go.

“You don’t need to be nervous, Luca.” Her tone is sweet, reassuring, and it serves to ease a tiny fraction of my anxiety. “I swear I’ll make a good impression. I have met people before, you know.”

“I’m not worried about that.” I awkwardly rub at the back of my neck. “I, uh, I want you to like them.”

“I’m sure I’ll love them.”

She releases my right hand to lean over the center console, pulling me in for a kiss as her fingers caress my jawline. When she leans back, her eyes shine with a mixture of cool gray and ocean blue. It’s a familiar, calming sight.

“Let’s go, then.”

When we enter the house, hands linked, my mom immediately wraps us into a group hug. She sways back and forth on her heels, pulling back with a smile that stretches from ear to ear.

“We are so happy you’re home, caro. Harper, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“You too, Mrs. Reynolds,” Harper says cheerfully, her wide smile lighting up the entryway. “Thank you for letting me tag along tonight.”

“Please, call me Gia. My husband, Greg, is in the kitchen chopping garlic.” She ushers us both inside, nudging us toward the hallway. “Why don’t you two go say hi to the girls and then head into the dining room?”

I clear my throat, prepping myself for an answer I’m not going to like. “Where’s Elio?”

“He’s not home quite yet.” My mom’s tone may be carefree, but her expression is weary.

“Shocking,” I mutter.

“Give your brother some grace, per piacere.”

With a tight-lipped smile, I nod and drop the subject. If I continue to hound her about my brother, she’ll only grow more defensive. It’s difficult for her to acknowledge that the two of us don’t get along. And while Elio’s rebellion is a sore topic for me, my parents seem to close their eyes to his indiscretions.

Sighing, I guide Harper down the hallway and over toward the twins’ bedroom. The girls are lounging on a pair of beanbags with their door wide open. They’re hyperfocused on a tiny television screen, tightly gripping their PS4 controllers as they battle it out on some racing game.

I loudly clear my throat. “Mia, Vivia, this is Harper. She’s having dinner here tonight.”

“Hi, guys, nice to meet you,” Harper says, her chipper voice carrying across the room.

The girls greet us one a time with a simple “hey,” barely sparing a glance in our direction.

“Where’s our sister?” I ask.

Mia shrugs, sharing a look of pure annoyance with her twin. “We’re not her keeper.”

“Okay, guys.” I let out an amused snort. “Thanks for that. I assume you won’t be joining us for dinner, either?”

“Ew, no.” Vivia finally glances over, pretending to gag. “Mamma made that stew with, like, scallops and stuff.”Content is property of NôvelDrama.Org.

“You used to love cioppino,” I say with a raised brow.

Mia rolls her eyes, button smashing her controller as she says, “Yeah, well, now we think it’s gross.”

I rub at my temples, shaking my head. “Okay, come on, Harps. Let’s go find the sister that actually likes me.”

“We like you!”

Harper and I laugh at their indignant response, trailing down the hallway hand-in-hand. I eagerly peer into Giorgie’s room, only to find it empty. With furrowed brows, I guide Harper toward the living room and cup both hands around my mouth.

“Geeg, I have someone here who wants to meet you!”

Two seconds later, Giorgie bounds into the room at full speed, tablet in hand. One tiny arm wraps around my legs in a makeshift hug. When she pulls back, she taps through a few pages on her language app until she settles on a four-leaf clover.

“Lucky,” the device reads back. Giorgie stares up at me with brown doe eyes and a wide-set smile. The sight instantly melts my heart.

“Where were you?” I ask, playfully nudging her shoulder. “We were looking all over the house.”

She taps back to the first page, clicking on a few icons until she presses the read button. “I go bathroom.”

“Ah, I see.” I press my palm against Harper’s back. “Geeg, this is my friend Harper. I’m sure Mamma told you I’d be bringing a guest.”

Giorgie happily nods, dancing back and forth on her feet.

“Hey, Giorgie.” Harper braces both palms on her knees, bending until she’s at my sister’s level. “It’s good to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you from your brother.”

Giorgie selects a picture of a thumbs-up, which reads out the word “good.” She taps over to a page filled with photos of our family members, selecting Elio’s icon followed by a question mark.

“No, unfortunately,” Harper says, sharing a laugh with my sister. “I haven’t met that one yet.”

“Good,” Giorgie repeats, dissolving into a series of high-pitched giggles. There’s nothing quite as joy-provoking as the sound of her unbridled laughter.

“Are you having cioppino with us tonight?” I ask, knowing full well the answer to my question. Giorgie hates the slimy texture of seafood, along with pretty much anything that’s not prepackaged.

My sister’s response comes in the form of a thumbs-down icon followed by a puke emoji.

“Alright then. I guess I’m the only Reynolds sibling who’ll be eating Mom’s cooking tonight.” I turn my focus back to Harper. “Please tell me you like seafood?”

“Love it,” she says happily. “And I’d eat it even if I didn’t.”

“Of course you would.” I chuckle. “Okay, Giorgie, we’re gonna go help set the table.”

She waves us both off, bouncing away toward her bedroom. There’s a notable pep in her step now, meaning she probably enjoyed meeting Harper tonight. Giorgie generally takes well to new people, so long as her needs are met and she has access to a communication device.

In the dining room, Harper and I end up setting the table for five, including Elio, even though he’s nowhere to be found. My mom steps out to bring the girls their separate plates of mac and cheese. At least she attempts to blend some carrots into the mix, but anything green is an absolute no go.

Throughout the entirety of our meal, my parents proceed to bombard Harper with small talk. It’s an endless stream of questions about me, football, Coastal, and classes. Before I can successfully interject, it quickly evolves into a full-out inquisition about Harper—including her job, her major, her hobbies, and everything under the sun.

It’s like a never-ending interview, but Harper takes it like a champ.

By the time dinner is finished, she’s already standing, offering to clear the table and wash the dishes. Of course, my parents politely decline and instead urge us to make ourselves comfortable in the living room.

As the two of us settle onto the couch together, my body finally relaxes. I wrap one arm around Harper, but she nearly jumps out of her seat when the front door slams shut. It’s not long before my brother tears into the room, a twisted smile marring his features.

“Elio, hey,” I cautiously greet him, attempting to keep my frustration at bay. “This is Harper.”

He awkwardly stretches both arms into the air, placing them behind his head. “Wow, she’s even hotter than Sofia. Don’t know how you do it, bro.”

I stand from the couch, leveling him with a hard stare. “What the hell, E?”

“What?” His laughter is obnoxious. “Have you met you? I honestly don’t understand how you keep pulling girls like that.” He steps closer, gaze raking across the couch. “What is it about my brother, Harper? He must have a huge d—”

“Outside.” I raise one flat palm, shoving him backward to cut him off. “Now.”

He holds both hands up in surrender, snickering to himself as we head outside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I ask, arms crossed for his safety.

He scoffs. “What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, I figured you’d be a normal person for once!” I inhale a deep breath, steadying my voice. Despite the circumstances, I still don’t want Harper to overhear me losing my temper. “First you miss our dinner. Then you act like a complete dick to my girl . . . the girl I’m dating.”

“Ahh, you couldn’t actually lock it down, huh?” He gives me a nasty look. “Makes sense. She’s way out of your league.”

“Man, I should’ve known you’d act like this. I actually thought you might be happy to see me tonight.”

“Why? You finally decide to grace us with your presence, so you want me to drop everything just to smile at your new toy.”

My fingers twitch as I tighten my grip, forcing my arms to stay folded. “Shut your mouth.”

He pretends to zip his lips, dramatically dragging one hand across his face. With little to no warning, he folds over at his waist and breaks out into a ridiculous cackle.

“Seriously, is there something wrong with—” I pause in my tracks, pinpricks of ice chilling my veins. Elio is generally unpleasant, sure, but he’s never acted this unhinged before. “Wait, are you high right now?”

He squares his shoulders, instantly sobering up. “What? No.”

“You are, aren’t you?” I drop my head into my hands, a mixture of panic and disappointment swelling inside of me. “This is rich.”

“I’m not fucking high.” It’s his turn to shove me back this time. He moves toward the front steps, erratically fumbling with the doorknob. “Just leave me alone.”

“E, stop.”

He turns back, a wild, pleading look in his eyes. “Please don’t tell Mom and Dad. It was a onetime thing, okay?”

I gulp. “Was it?”

“Yes.” He chews on the end of his thumbnail, nervously staring at the ground between us. “I fucking swear to you. Jackson stole a little baggy of coke from his brother, and we tried it tonight. I was stressed about you coming home, and I thought it would take the edge off. I didn’t even like it.”

There’s an unsteadiness brewing inside of me, a shaking in my bones. “That’s fucked-up, Elio.”

He wipes at his eyes, nodding, a few tears spilling free. “I know.”

“I’ll keep this to myself, but you have to promise me you won’t do it again.”

“I promise.”

I take a couple of deep breaths before I pull open the door, whispering, “Get back in there and apologize to Harper, then go straight to bed. Next time I see you, I’m bringing a drug test.”

“Could you please not mention this to Taylor, either?” he asks me, voice hushed and frantic. “I know she’d be disappointed.”

“Fine,” I manage to grit out.

“I’m sorry.”

Well, fuck, so am I.