Untamed Hearts (4 page)

He’s wiping the slate clean.

“I’m Susie,” I say, smiling
shyly, reaching to shake his hand. The touch sends a shiver rolling
right through me, and Hunter
looks startled for a second,
like he didn’t expect me to play along. Then he recovers.

“A pleasure to meet you,
Susie.”

There’s a pause. My heart is
racing in my chest, and I know it’s my move. My turn to put myself
on the line.

This is your last chance. A
voice whispers. The last night of summer. What are you going to do
about it?

I steel myself and hear myself
asking. “You busy, Bob?”

Hunter shakes his
head.

“Come on,” I gather every last
ounce of courage and hold out my hand to him. “There’s some place I
want to show you.”

***

I follow beside her, about mile along the
shoreline, and with every step, my heartbeat races faster, until I
feel like I’m standing on a ledge, about to hurl myself off into
the unknown.

Brit doesn’t look at me. She’s wrapped up in my
too-big sweater, eyes fixed ahead of us on the moon-lit beach. I
can’t stop myself sneaking looks at her, mesmerized by her
nearness. God, she looks beautiful, all that tough-girl attitude
stripped away so there’s nothing but vulnerability and nerves on
her face. Whatever I’m feeling, the panic, the anticipation, I
somehow know, she feels it, too.

I taste a rush of fierce possession so strong,
it takes me by surprise.

I want to see her in that hoodie tomorrow
morning; next week; always. I want to feel her below me in my bed;
wake up gazing into those dark, haunted eyes.

I want all of her, forever.

Easy, boy. I force myself back to reality. You
don’t even know where she’s taking you. After that scene at the
party, kissing you might be the last thing on her mind.

I take a breath, trying to stay in control.
She’s just a girl, I tell myself. But the words have barely formed
in my mind when I’m struck with how ridiculous it sounds.

Even now, I know. Brittany Ray will never be
just some girl to me.

I reach out and take her hand.

Brit flinches at my touch, tripping on the rocky
shore. Damn. I quickly pull her up before she falls.

“I got you,” I say, self-conscious. I should let
go, I know, but my hand has a life of its own: it closes around
hers, lacing my fingers through hers.

“Thanks,” she whispers. She glances over at me
shyly, and I catch her eyes, struck dumb all over again just at the
sight of her.

I feel like a kid again, like I’ve never even
held a girl’s hand. My heartbeat is skittering, my whole body feels
alive with panic, but still, there’s nowhere else in the world I’d
rather be. The beach is empty, we’re all alone. Just for a moment,
she’s mine.

I smile at her, so full of gladness just to be
here with her. Brit stares back, like a deer in the headlights, but
she doesn’t let go of my hand.

Thank God she doesn’t let go.

I clear my throat, awkward. “So, Susie, tell me
about yourself,” I say, trying to sound casual. “What brings you to
Beachwood Bay?”

“I’m just passing through.” Brit replies slowly
“I’m… really from the city. My parents have a place there. I’m
starting fashion school soon.”

I turn in surprise. “Oh yeah?” Fashion school. I
should have guessed. She’s always wearing these cool, unique
outfits. It never occurred to me that she had made them for
herself. I play along with the story she’s building. “What do your
folks do?”

“My mom’s a designer, too,” Brit replies, and I
swear I hear a twist of something sad in her voice. “And my dad…
he’s just a regular guy. He works in an office, but he’s always
home for dinner at night.”

“Sounds nice,” I take a long breath, just
imagining that fantasy. Ordinary parents, a simple, normal life.
“My parents are pretty regular too.” I say, They’re teachers. We
live in the middle of the suburbs, with a dog and a minivan.”

“What’s your dog’s name?” Brit asks.

“Hans Solo.” I reply without thinking.

She giggles. “You’re a Star Wars geek, huh?”

I can feel my cheeks flush. “Yup.”

But she doesn’t say anything cutting, just falls
silent again. Comfortable.

I walk beside her, just enjoying the feel of her
slim hand in mine. Even though we’re both telling lies here, it
feels somehow like we’re being more truthful than ever. Maybe you
can tell more about someone from their daydreams than anything real
in their life. Already, I know that Brit wishes she had a normal
family, that she dreams of going to design school, that she wants a
father who’s home after work every night. I don’t know the details
of her real life, but knowing this imaginary one seems even more
intimate: a secret she’s only sharing with me.

Maybe the confession is too much for her,
because Brit suddenly speaks up, her voice bright and loud. “But
enough about everyone else,” she announces. “Tell me about you.
Favorite ice cream flavor.”

“You know that.” I shoot her a sideways look. “I
order it every time.”

“Chocolate fudge,” Brit laughs.

“And you like those milkshakes, with mint
chocolate chip.” I reply.

Brit stops. “How do you know that?” she demands,
surprise clear in her voice.

Busted. I give her a bashful grin. “I see
things.”

“Like what?” Brit asks.

My heartbeat pounds. “Little things.” I shrug,
trying to make it seem casual, and not like I haven’t taken my eyes
off her all summer. “Like, you always wear so much black, but your
favorite color is purple,” I admit slowly. “And you never keep your
hair the same way for more than a week.”

“Oh.” Brit looks embarrassed.

Now I’ve made her feel uncomfortable. Why the
hell did you have to say that? “I’m not stalking you, I promise,” I
add quickly. “I just notice you. I can’t not.”

Brit doesn’t look at me, her expression
impossible to read. I wish for a moment she was like the other
girls I’ve know: their thoughts written clear as day across their
faces, everything obvious, and right there to see. But that’s what
makes Brit so special. Nobody else is such a mystery to me. Nobody
can surprise me, the way she does.

“This way!” Brit suddenly cries, loud. She drops
my hand and hurries ahead, scrambling up a series of rocks and over
the top of a small cliff. She doesn’t look back, so I start after
her, feeling my way across the rough granite. It’s hard to find
footholds, but Brit bounds ahead like it’s nothing. She must have
been here before, a hundred times, to know the route so well.

Has she brought other guys? A whisper of doubt
sounds. Is this her usual spot, a hideaway she comes to all the
time?

No.

I don’t believe the rumors, not for a second,
and besides, I somehow know for sure that Brit is taking me
someplace special, a place that means something to her. Tonight,
we’re both letting our guard down, showing a side nobody else gets
to see, and I feel privileged just to be scrambling through the
moonlight with her, embarking on an adventure I know I’ll never
forget.

I’d follow her anywhere.

I clear the ridge and see we’re in a private
cove, sheltered from the rest of the bay. The shadow of an old
lighthouse looms up ahead of me, and to my right, Brit is standing
motionless on the silvery wet sand. The ocean waves roll in,
soothing, and it’s like we’re in a world of our own, a million
miles from anyone else.

I approach slowly behind her. “What is this
place?”

“It’s my place.” Brit replies, sounding
self-conscious. “Nobody knows about it, but I like it here.
Everything’s so peaceful.”

She sits on a large rock, hugging her knees to
her chest. I wait a moment, unsure, and then go to sit beside her.
I watch the lights of town shine out across the bay, and I
understand. This is her escape, her own secret refuge. Like me and
the ranch, this is where she goes to feel alone. Alive.

“Just you and the ocean.” I say it quietly, and
I see the relief slip across her face. She nods, reaching down to
take a handful of sand. She lets it fall slowly through her
fingertips, her breathing getting slower, more relaxed.

“So, Bob,” Brit says, with a note of amusement
in her voice. “What is it you want?”

I jolt with surprise. Is she talking about now,
tonight? Way to be obvious. “What do you mean?” I ask
carefully.

Brit gives a little shrug. “Now, tonight, in
life? What do you want?”

Oh. I exhale with relief, but then I realize,
this question isn’t any easier.

What do I want?

I stare out at the ocean, trying to find the
words. “I can’t remember the last time someone asked me that,” I
confess slowly. “Everything I do, it’s like it’s all been planned
out for me, and I’m just walking in someone else’s footsteps.”

Brit turns to me. “You mean your brother?”

I shake my head. “No. Maybe,” I add. “But mainly
it’s my parents, and their parents, and their parents…” I sigh,
thinking of the great Covington legacy. My parents remind me, all
the time. I’m privileged. I’m blessed. I have a duty and a
responsibility to do Great Things with my life. Forget normalcy, or
happiness, my brother and I are destined to build business empires
and rule nations—or at the very least, the state.

From the day I was born, failure has never been
an option.

Brit is still silent beside me, and I realize
how ungrateful I must sound, especially compared to her life. “I’m
lucky, I know.” I add quickly. “I have so much opportunity, I just…
I guess what I want is for someone to ask what I want, once in a
while.”

“Then I guess you got what you wanted tonight,”
Brit tells me, looking over for the first time. Her eyes blaze in
the moonlight, and suddenly, everything I’ve just been talking
about washes away, lost in the midnight tide. Everything
disappears, except for her. This. Right now.

I stare back, lost in the promise of her stare,
and the shadows the silvery light casts across her face. She’s so
close now. So perfect.

I feel my heart rise in my chest, aching with a
need I’ve never felt before, and I know, I’m lost to her. To hell
with the shadow of tomorrow looming over the both of us, and all
the reasons why I’ve kept my distance.

She’s all I want. She’s everything.

“Not yet,” I breathe softly, and then I reach
out to brush my hand against her cheek.

I can’t help it. I want her too much to resist.
Just a touch, that’s all I need, one touch of that perfect skin
against my fingertips, the touch I’ve been dreaming about for weeks
now, driving myself insane.

There.

I swear time stops at the feel of her skin, soft
as silk under my fingertips. Brit inhales a shaking breath, but she
doesn’t move away, just gazes at me, wordless, with those soulful
dark eyes asking a million questions I can only dream of
answering.

My heart thunders. Emboldened, I trace my thumb
across the outline of her jaw, cupping her cheek in my palm. It
fits perfectly, like my hand was made just for her. She trembles
under my touch, and it sends a shock of lust racing through my
veins, desire like I’ve never known.

How can she do this to me, with just one
touch?

I stroke her face, softly, memorizing every
angle and plane. Every inch of skin, so sweet, every flicker in her
eyes. We’re suspended here together, like the world has fallen
away. Nothing but me, and her, and the tantalizing sensation of
soft skin under my hands.

I slide my thumb over her lower lip, the soft
pillow of pink. Brit gasps, her eyes widening, and God, it takes
every ounce of self-control in my body not to ravage her right
there: to claim her mouth with my own, pull her hard against me,
and take the kisses I know would change my world forever.

But I have to hold back. I have to be sure this
is what she needs, that everything I feel is reflected in her.

“What do you want?” My voice is hoarse with
desire. I hold her gaze, desperately searching. “What is it you
want tonight?”

She looks at me, and it makes my heart stop, the
certainty in her gaze. Bold and steady, daring and true.

“You.”

Her answer crashes over me, a rush of
exhilaration. I can’t believe I’ve heard it right, but Brit says it
again, her voice steady in the quiet of the night.

“I want you.”

I wait another moment, desperate, but suddenly
too scared to act. It feels like a dream, the two of us together.
But even in my wildest fantasies, day-dreaming about this moment, I
couldn’t have imagined the clarity in her eyes, and the sweetness
on her beautiful face.

Then Brit reaches up and touches me. She strokes
a strand of hair that’s fallen over my eyes, and the spark that
crashes through me is electric. Alive.