Beachwood Bay 04 - Untamed Hearts

gossip and scorn me behind my back. I wanted so badly to prove them wrong, but all I do is live up to their low expectations.
    “That was quite some scene.”
    A guy’s voice comes from behind me, amused.
    “Leave me the hell alone,” I snap, not turning. I’m not in the mood to deal with any more bullshit tonight—especially not from some guy who heard the whispers and figures I’m an easy score. “This is private property.”
    There’s a low hum of laughter. “The Brit I knew never cared about that.”
    My heart stops.
    It can’t be, I tell myself. Not here, not again, after all this time.
    But it is. I know the truth even before I brace myself and turn. I’d recognize that voice anywhere: the low, sexy drawl that echoes in my dreams, smooth as honey and sweet as the night we shared together, three long years ago.
    Hunter Covington.

    “Waste of a good plate of nachos, if you ask me.” Hunter grins at me across the rooftop, hair glinting dark gold in the setting sun. “And you always said, nothing exciting ever happens in this town.”
    My heart pounds as I stare at him, disbelieving. He’s leaning in the doorway, casual as can be. A ghost, a relic, a memory I’ve clung to through dark nights and desperate days.
    I never thought I’d see him again.
    My legs give way beneath me, and I clutch at the back of the lawn chair for support.
    “You’re here,” I breathe.
    “I’m here,” he agrees, and fixes me with a crooked, heartbreaking smile.
    Everything falls away.
    The bar, the rejection letter, Trey—it all dissolves under Hunter’s piercing gaze. My eyes devour him hungrily. He’s older now, we both are, but somehow I’ve been carrying the picture of who he used to be. The boy he was, not the man he’s so clearly become. There’s power to his athletic body now, clear in the broad frame of his shoulders, the muscles beneath his preppy Oxford shirt. His blonde hair falls over his golden skin, blue eyes still blazing like the brightest summer sky I’ve ever seen.
    I feel an ache slice through me, longing, and pure bittersweet regret. Just one night, that’s all I had with him, but somehow, it’s meant more to me than anything else in my life since. I thought in time it would fade, that I would feel those feelings with some other guy, that I would dilute Hunter’s power with a hundred other kisses, dozens of other bodies and lips and hands.
    I was wrong.
    He’s still the only one. The one guy I let slip through my defenses. The one guy who shared my pain.
    The man I walked away from, before he could have a chance to break my heart.
    “I didn’t mean to surprise you,” Hunter’s brow furrows. “I figured after that show, you’d be up here celebrating. Not…”
    He trails off, but I can fill in the blanks.
    Not moping here, defeated. Not stuck, exactly the same as when he saw me last. Not hiding from the whispers and scorn like some scared little kid.
    I lurch up. “I can’t…” I stutter. “It’s not…”
    Hunter stares at me, confusion masking his chiseled, tanned face. He probably expected some witty banter, my usual tough barbs, but right now all my defenses are down and I feel like my chest is ripped wide open, heart beating bloody and raw for the whole world to see.
    Why tonight? Why him, here, now of all nights?
    “Brit?” Hunter moves towards me but I flinch away.
    “No!” I stumble back. I can’t do this. Hell, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to face him again, but right now, every instinct in my body is screaming out to run.
    “You shouldn’t be here.” I gasp. I turn, bolting for the door, but my foot catches on the gravel and I stumble, scraping my shin painfully against the jagged metal edge of the chair.
    In an instant, Hunter crosses the distance between us to hold me up.
    “Easy there,” he murmurs, holding onto my arm. A shock of sensation floods through my body at his touch, and despite everything, my heart leaps just to feel him next to me. He holds me to him, tight against the solid warmth of his body, and for a moment I’m caught there, lost in his eyes, in all the memories of the past.
    But the past is done. It was over almost as soon as it began.
    “Goodbye,” I manage, breaking free from his embrace. I hurry down the stairs, crashing through the bar hallway and out into the back parking lot. Garrett’s truck is parked right by the exit, and I know the keys will be up under the mirror. I scramble in, gunning it into drive and