Selene’s POV
Night fell gently on Grandbay, the sky painted with strokes of rose gold and deep purple. The transition from daylight to dusk was smoother than I’d ever seen before—like the island itself refused to let go of the sun.
Dinner was held in the main beach lounge, a semi-open pavilion lit with warm hanging lanterns and surrounded by swaying palms. Long wooden tables were lined up and filled with seafood, tropical fruits, grilled meats, and fresh bread. The air smelled of salt, lemon, and roasted garlic. We ate like royalty.
“Alright, someone better be recording this,” Wendy said between bites of shrimp. “Because I refuse to forget this night.”
“I second that,” Irene chimed in, raising her wine glass. “To Hillwood’s Investment Club. And to not graduating on time!”
Laughter echoed around the table. Lucas clinked his bottle against hers. “Worth it.”
Kairo snorted. “Only because you want more time to soend closer with Irene since graduation will probably separate you two as you have big opportunities ahead of you.”
Clark leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling. “Honestly, I thought Selene was exaggerating about this place. But this? It’s heaven.”
I blinked. “You thought I was exaggerating?”
“I didn’t say it wasn’t pretty,” he said, dodging a roll thrown at him by Clint. “I just didn’t expect this level of luxury.”
Sebastian, sitting a few seats away, hadn’t said much. But I caught the way his eyes roamed the table, quiet and satisfied. Observing, as always.
He'd orchestrated this whole thing in the background—no fanfare, no announcement. Just results. That was always his way.
After dinner, the group split naturally. Wendy and Irene ran off to take more sunset pictures along the boardwalk. Lucas, Irene, Clint and Maya went to challenged each other to a game of paddleball under the floodlights. Clark and Wendy disappeared toward the hammocks near the coconut grove. Kairo and Lana still sitting and planning their night together
And Sebastian?
He just stood and walked away from the table, heading toward the edge of the resort—where the sea lapped quietly beneath the stilted cottages.
I stayed behind for a moment, unsure why my eyes followed him.
Kairo elbowed me gently. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
I raised a brow. “Which is?”
He smirked. “That someone’s going to walk off all that dinner weight. And someone else should follow, for his  health, obviously.”
I rolled my eyes but stood up anyway. “I’ll take the bait.”
The night breeze wrapped around me like silk as I followed the wooden path that connected the cottages. The waves below whispered softly, catching moonlight in their crests.
I found Sebastian standing alone at the far edge of the dock, arms resting on the rail, gazing out at the dark horizon.
“I figured you’d be buried in your phone or already planning tomorrow’s itinerary,” I said quietly as I approached.
He didn’t turn. “I already did. Scheduled group breakfast at eight. Free day after that. Side trip to Brewery Town the day after tomorrow.”
Of course he did.
“Wow. You even plan our freedom,” I joked.
He finally glanced at me. “Freedom doesn’t mean chaos.”
I joined him at the railing. “You really don’t know how to switch off, do you?”
“No,” he said simply.
We stood in silence for a while. The only sounds were the waves, the laughter from the lounge fading into the background, and the occasional distant splash of someone brave enough to swim at night.
“You ever take a vacation before?” I asked.
He was quiet, then: “This is the first one where I didn’t bring a laptop.”
My eyes widened. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“Not even in high school?”
He gave a small shake of his head. “Not the kind that felt like this.”
I looked at him closely. The moonlight caught the side of his face—defined jaw, long lashes, that ever-serious gaze softened by the shimmer of the ocean. In that moment, he didn’t look like Hillwood’s most intimidating strategist.
He looked… young. Just a boy trying to figure things out, like the rest of us.
“I think,” I said slowly, “you’re allowed to enjoy it. Even if just for tonight.”
He turned toward me fully. “You enjoying it?”
“Yes,” I admitted. “More than I expected. It’s… peaceful. Beautiful.”
He nodded, then added, “You picked well.”
The compliment took me by surprise. Not because it was rare—though it was—but because it was so simple. Honest.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “I wanted a place that felt far from all of it. School. Pressure. Expectations. Somewhere real.”
“It is real,” he said, his voice low. “That’s what makes it dangerous.”
I blinked. “What do you mean?”
He hesitated, then leaned back slightly against the railing. “Places like this make you forget how complicated everything is. You start to believe this is all there is. Then you go back—and everything hits twice as hard.”
I looked down at the clear water beneath our feet. “Then maybe we don’t forget. Maybe we just… take the moment as it is.”
He didn’t answer, but I felt the tension in his shoulders ease.
We stayed there longer than I expected. Talking about nothing and everything. About the time Clint nearly got banned from the student council for hacking the lights, or how Lana’s project nearly flooded the hallway. I told him about my childhood visits to coastal towns, how I used to collect sea glass with my mother.
He listened.
Really listened.
And when I finally said goodnight, he walked me back to my cottage.
No grand gestures. No dramatic lines.
Just a quiet, steady presence.
And for the first time in a long time, I let myself feel that I wasn’t just seen—
I was understood.