JACOB POV

Becca is crashed out on her couch, her hand's folded beside her head, knees bent, and her lips pouty so that she looks too adorable that I take. I can't help but stare and grade my knuckles over her face. Since I knew Becca, she was always one with cold feet. And not the literary one. Cold weather disturbed her a lot.

When we were together, she'd always talked about going to live in Florida, open up her restaurant, or a sea bistro. She'd sell the best meals, a lot of crabs, and even one a tuna grill. She was always a sucker for tuna. We discussed it....