Kiefer's POV
I stormed into my room, slamming the door behind me. My bag went flying somewhere across the floor. I didn't care. I flopped onto my bed, feeling the weight of everything settle on my chest. Slowly, I reached for my wallet, flipping it open to a picture of Jayjay and me on the island. Her smile, her laugh, the way the wind tangled her hair—it hit me like a punch to the chest. I stared at it, fingers brushing the photo.
Why does she have to be… her? Why do I even let myself feel this way?
I closed my eyes. The picture burned in my mind, and I dozed off, still gripping it tightly. It was stupid, I knew, but I couldn't help it.
Jayjay's POV
I stepped into the mini restaurant, and my plan felt… exciting. It was closed, but the thought of sneaking around, of discovering something new, made my heartbeat skip.
A guy—early twenties, tall, confident—was walking in. My eyes followed him automatically. Before I could think, Chantelle appeared beside him, whispering something I couldn't catch. Then the guy's eyes landed on me. My stomach did a little flip.
He walked over to a picture on the wall. It looked ordinary, but then… he touched the corner, and it swung open like a secret passageway. My eyes widened.
Chantelle waved at me. "Come on, Jayjay."
I stepped closer, and the room swallowed me into darkness.
"Chantelle? Where are you?" I whispered. My voice trembled slightly.
From the shadows, I teased, "Why have you grown so tall? And why are you so stiff?"
The lights flicked on. My eyes adjusted, and I looked around. Chantelle and the guy were standing there, calm, confident. My eyes darted to the arm I was holding onto—and almost screamed.
"Whose arm am I holding?"
I twisted—and nearly fell backward, but the guy shoved a comfy chair under me just in time. My butt hit it, and I blinked up at him, embarrassed.
"Thanks… for saving me… um…" My voice trailed.
He smiled. "Andrew. You can call me Andy. This is my job—it's actually my uncle's shop."
I blinked. "Nice to meet you. Wait… aren't you supposed to be in school?"
He shrugged casually. "Finished this year."
"Finished? How old are you?" I asked, surprised.
"Twenty-two."
My jaw dropped. Twenty-two and already done with university? What is this guy? Some kind of prodigy? My mind raced.
I looked around the room. It was… incredible. A full-on dance studio. A mannequin stood with a blue top, black and red trousers, and a red-and-black jacket. My eyes flitted across the space, taking in the mirrors, the polished floor, the energy it radiated.
Chantelle looked at me and Andy in unison. "This is SDR."
"SDR?" I echoed.
Andy grinned. "Secret Dance Room."
I laughed, partly from relief, partly from disbelief. "Seriously?"
Jayjay, I thought. A week and a half to renovate this into a candlelight setup? This is going to be insane—but amazing.
Chantelle and Andy nodded, smiling. "Agreed."
And just like that, my mind was already racing with ideas, excitement, and that dramatic flutter of anticipation I couldn't quite shake.