Beachwood Bay 04 - Untamed Hearts

feet, watching in horror as he tackles Hunter hard and the two of them tumble to the ground. Hunter manages to twist on top, and then he’s raining down punches: hard, sharp jabs to the guy’s face and throat, until his fists are bloody; expression fierce and determined. There’s no time for me to move, it’s like I’m fixed in place, but I look past him and see the meathead on the ground recover and drag himself up, murder in his eyes.
    “Hunter!” I scream a warning, but he must not hear me. Before I can say another word, the meathead pulls Hunter off his friend and punches him hard in the stomach.
    I flinch at the blow, my heart twisting as I watch Hunter reel back, pain flooding his expression.
    No!
    Hunter may be fast, but this guy is massive: built like a truck, and now he’s pissed too. I don’t know what I can do to stop him, this is already way out of hand. I look around for help, but everyone is just standing, watching. They’ve even got the nerve to look thrilled, like this is some game for their entertainment. Do they even realize Hunter is about to get ripped limb from limb?
    My heart races in desperation, and I try and push my way towards them. I don’t know what I’m planning to do, I just know I have to try and help Hunter, but before I can reach him, someone else appears through the crowd and grabs hold of Meathead in an iron restraint .
    “ Enough!” He orders. It’s Jace, the other Covington brother. Older, gorgeous, the one who has every girl in town panting just from walking by.
    “Are you kidding?” The guy screams, furious. “He started it! He’s fucking crazy!”
    Jace says something to him, trying to calm him down. Whatever it is, it works: I can see both guys relax, still pissed, but not looking to throw any punches.
    I catch my breath, relief breaking over me like the tide. It’s over. Hunter is safe.
    But now the danger has passed, the world comes flooding back in. I realize I’m in the center of a huge crowd, and I can see their stares, hear all the whispers as their eyes rake over me, the gossip in their not-so-hushed tones.
    It’s your fault. All this drama, they’re blaming you. They probably think you deserved it.
    I feel a hot flush of humiliation as I realize just what happened. God, bad enough to have those assholes with their sweaty paws all over me, but he saw it all. He saw everything.
    Hunter.
    What must he think of me?
    I check one last time to see he’s OK—bent double, but recovering from that punch—and then I whirl around and flee, fighting my way through the rubber-necking crowd until I’m out on the dark beach alone.
    Damn.
    I walk quickly, my feet bare on the cool sand, wishing I could leave that scene behind, like it never existed. But the shame trails me, sharper with every step. I always told myself, I don’t care what anyone thinks. Don’t care about the rumors and whispers and bitches in school spreading their lies, but the thought that Hunter sees me that way too—that he had to jump in to defend me, or stop them following through on their filthy comments...
    I can’t take it. It’s different. I don’t know why, but it is.
    Hunter...
    I let out a sigh, thinking of him. Those blue eyes, brighter than the summer skies. The golden glint of his tanned skin, the artless, ruffled shock of blonde hair. All summer long, I’ve been fighting my attraction to him, writing it off as some useless hormonal crush. I mean, a guy like that would never look in my direction; I may as well daydream about some Hollywood actor or rock star, for all the good it’ll do me. Even now, I’m surprised to see he’s still in town. His family takes off after Labor Day, every year: back to their perfect, preppy lives in Charleston, and the privileged world I’ll never know.
    But he’s here, tonight. And he saw me, with those guys...
    The shame burns hotter. I wish the tide would surge in and carry me away. Now he thinks what the whispers say are true, that I’m just some cheap slut who’ll hook up with anyone.
    “ Brit!”
    I hear a call behind me.
    “Brit, wait up.”
    Oh God. It’s him. Hunter. His voice calling me through the dark. The first time he’s ever spoken to me, and it’s now. What could he possibly want?
    I brace myself and turn.
    Hunter catches up with me, looking disheveled from the fight. He’s got a dark bruise already blossoming on his cheekbone, and I have to dig my nails into my palm to stop myself from reaching out and touching