“Guys, I don’t think going out is going to make me feel better. I should probably head back to the villa.” Harry had every intention of turning around when Jeff reached for the back of his neck, stopping him mid-step with a firm grip that made Harry sigh and roll his eyes.

It had been a week since they arrived in Puerto Rico—Harry’s first time on the island. Though the pandemic’s shadow still lingered, life had begun to bloom again. The vaccine was now public, and slowly, the world was healing. But Harry wasn’t. Not fully.

Mentally, he was drained. Creatively, lost. That’s why Jeff and Mitch had dragged him out of L.A., out of London. “You need a break,” they said. So they landed in the Caribbean, hoping the sun could burn away the fog.

Tonight, they were at an open-air club. The music was loud, the crowd loose and vibrant—but Harry just wanted to leave. Go back to the villa. Be alone with his thoughts. Figure out who he was supposed to be now that the world was starting again.

When they finally sat in the VIP area, Mitch called one of the servers over while Jeff leaned in. “You’ve got to loosen up, mate. That’s why we left the States. Europe’s seen you a hundred times. But Puerto Rico? Man, there’s something different here. Maybe you’ll find the inspiration you’ve been looking for.”

Harry rolled his eyes, about to reply—until he looked up.

And saw her.

His breath caught. The rhythm of the reggaeton thumped in his chest. His brain turned to mush. He didn’t speak Spanish. And suddenly, he didn’t know English either.

She was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

And just like that, he changed his mind. He wouldn’t argue with Jeff again. Not about this place.

Maybe Puerto Rico did have something special waiting for him after all.