Holding my breath, I inch my way off the bed, locate my boxers—nothanging from the ceiling fan’s blades—and leave my room.Almostleave my room. I pause at the door, allowing myself a few seconds to look at her.
A tight pang stabs into my chest, so tangible I don’t need to ponder it. Longing.
It’smorethan that, mate, and you know it.
Turning, I hurry to the kitchen, hop-stepping into my boxers as I go.
I’m in love with Sami. Which is ridiculous.
I don’tnotbelieve in love, but I’ve never wanted it for myself. Not again. I hadn’t lied to Sami about moving back here to Hartley Ridge because Sydney wasn’t for me, I’d just omitted the part about finding Ellie, my high school sweetheart and the girl I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with, in bed with my captain a year after we moved there. It didn’t destroy me, but it did make me rethink what I wanted in life. The drama of opening my heart up again? Not for me.
So being in love with Sami? Impossible.
But you are.
I sigh again, the exhalation dissolving into a chuckle. What the hell do I do now?
I make a cup of coffee. I skip the sugar and my usual breakfast toast and take my confusion and caffeine out onto my front porch.
The chilly Autumn air sends a ripple over my bare skin. I let my gaze wander with no real purpose over the misty gum trees and take a sip of coffee. Close my eyes. Savor the brew. Let out a shaky breath and open my eyes.
Someone in a dark hoodie and jeans is running away from Sami’s car. They’re crouched low, hands held up to shield their face as they head for the bush beside my driveway.
“Hey?” I throw my coffee mug aside, vault over my porch railing, and bolt after them, condensation-damp grass squelching under my bare feet. “Hey!”
They run faster, shoulders hunched.
“What’s going on?” Sami calls behind me, but I keep after the fleeing stranger. No fucking way am I letting them get away.
They reach the edge of my front yard at the exact moment I slam into them, driving them to the ground in a bone-rattling tackle my old rugby coach would be proud of. They writhe and thrash underneath me as I grab one wrist and then the other, ramming my knee into their back.
“Who the hell are you?” I growl. “And what the fuck are you doing in my front yard.”
“I’m no one,” an indignant male voice yelps back. “Get off?—”
I haul him to his feet, tightening my grip on his wrists as he attempts to break free, reining in his furious bucks, wild kicks, and lurching twists.
“Allen?”
Sami’s confused voice hits me. Tearing my glare from the man, I turn. She’s hurrying toward us, dressed in her yellow dress again, frowning. Not at me, but at the man.
“Allen?” she says, the words scratchy, like her breath is brittle. “What are you doing here?”
Allen—whoever the fuck Allen is—tries to shrug out of my grip. He flings me a glower and then stares at Sami. “Another box came. This one with a different message on the card. I thought I should show you. I was worried about you.”
“No, I mean, what are you doinghere?” Her frown deepens. “I didn’t tell youwhereI was going.”
Tension falls over Allen, and he stops moving and stares back at her. “Sams…”
She looks at her car, and her shoulders slump.
A small black box wrapped in a bright-red ribbon sits on the gravel beside the passenger front wheel.
A cold knot twists in my gut and turns to shards of ice as a soft sob falls from her.Boxes tied in red ribbon…Her words from last night after the cabana fire whisper through my head. My fingers clamp tighter around Allen’s wrists, and the bones beneath his skin grind.
“Ow,” he whines, trying to look over his shoulder at me. “Let me go, you bastard.” He barely comes up to my chin. He’s barely taller than Sami.
And yet he’s caused her so much fucking stress.
