Final Offer (Dreamland Billionaires #3) by Lauren Asher

Walking into my childhood room feels like I’ve been launched directly into the past. Besides a few taped boxes stacked in a corner, the place looks untouched. Even the glow-in-the-dark stars Lana and I superglued to the ceiling over two decades ago remain, although a few are missing or hanging by a single point. The window overlooking the lake snags my attention in the same way it did years ago when I picked this room as mine.

My brothers never understood why I wanted the smallest room located in a cramped corner of the house, but I thought the answer would be obvious if they took a moment to look out the bay window.

It feels strange to return here after six years away. I’m not sure why my grandpa and Señora Castillo kept the room the same, but it feels like it’s been trapped in time.

The floor-to-ceiling shelves covering each of the three other walls feature the model boats I built during my summers here. From my first sailboat to a mini version of the Titanic, each boat holds a fond memory of a summer spent at Lake Wisteria. Of Lana and me staying up far too late working on them in the study.

My throat tightens as I stare at the last ship we started building the summer of my accident. The USS Constitution Lana bought me for my birthday sits unfinished on the lowest shelf, looking abandoned with its incomplete hull facing toward the ceiling.

You never had a chance to finish it together.

My chest throbs.

“Whoa.”

I turn on my heels to find Cami staring up at the shelves with wide eyes. “Did you make that?” She points at a replica of La Candelaria sitting on the highest shelf, far away from anyone who could accidentally knock it over.

My throat tightens. “Yeah.”

“Really?” She looks over at me with a strange expression.

I nod.

“What about that one?” She directs my attention toward the shelf above the window, where an Elizabethan Navy Rowan warship model sits, the wood dulled from the amount of dust and cobwebs covering the hull.

“Yup.”

“And that one too?” There is a special sparkle in her eyes as she checks out the Viking ship.

“I made all of these with your mom.” Hopefully that will answer any lingering questions she might have.

She gasps. “My mom? How?” Her forehead wrinkles from her pinched expression.

You spoke too soon.

I run a hand over my stubble, considering the best way to explain the process. “Have you played with Legos?”

“Yes!” She nods her head with a smile.

“It’s like that but harder.”

“Why?”

Instead of explaining the process, I pull out my phone and show her a time-lapse video of someone building a model sailboat. It’s the first time I’ve been able to keep her quiet for a solid five minutes, so I count my idea as a win. Even I find myself getting swept up in the familiarity of the process and the therapeutic aspect of boatbuilding.

And that right there is why your brothers teased you endlessly about being a nerd.

Once the video ends, she looks up at me with a big smile. “Cool!”

I rear back. “Really?”

Her head bobs up and down. “I want to try.”

She might not look like Lana, but she is 100 percent her through and through.

“You do?”

“Yes! Can we make one together?”

I blink twice, focusing on how she grouped us together. “What?”

“Please can we do one, Cow-l? Pretty, pretty please.” Her bright eyes pierce through my resolve, tempting me to say yes.

“Ummm…”

She bats her lashes. “I’ll be your bestest friend ever.”

Don’t you dare fall for that.

Except it’s pretty hard not to with the way she looks up at me with a beaming smile full of hope. The idea of killing her budding interest makes the acid in my stomach bubble.

Stay strong.

“They’re pretty hard.” My excuse might be weak, but it’s an honest one. I didn’t start my first kit until I was double her age, and even then, I struggled until my grandpa stepped in to help.

“I’m no quitter.” She lifts her chin.

I can tell based on the way she pushes me to say yes. I’m tempted to, solely because of her tenacity, but one thing holds me back.

“You need to ask your mom if it’s okay.”

“So, we can build one?” She bounces on the balls of her feet.

“If your mom says yes—” Lana will for sure say no, and I wouldn’t blame her one bit. It was kind of our thing before it wasn’t anymore. There is no chance in hell I expect her to want Cami and me to build one.

Cami cuts me off with a squeal before running out of my room, leaving me to question if I made the right decision.

No turning back now.

I spend the rest of my day packing away each of my model ships carefully into individual moving boxes. The last one I have left to pack, which I debated between dumping or saving all afternoon, is the boat Lana and I never finished.

Before I reconsider my answer, I pack it away with the box of unfinished parts.

My phone goes off a few times, mostly from my family group chat which I’ve ignored ever since my fight with Declan. I know I’ll have to deal with him eventually, but I would rather face him once I’m officially done with my task.

I don’t check my phone until I tape up the last box.