“Kid is fucking crazy,” I mutter.
I walk back into the living room, staring out at Jeremy’s lithe form walking along the edge of the ocean. “It’s got to be like forty degrees outside. What the fuck are you doing, Jeremy?”
A wave crashes onto the shore, rushing up at Jeremy’s feet, and he stumbles.
Does he know how high the waves are?
From here, they look angry and turbulent, like dark claws raking at the sand. I grit my teeth. Then grab my coat from where it sits on my duffel bag.
“This is stupid,” I grumble while I toe on my boots, not bothering with the laces. Then I walk out onto the porch and stomp down the steps to the grass. As I approach the stairs to the beach, a gust of wind catches my jacket, blowing it open and slinging my hair into my eyes. I zip my coat closed with a curse. “Who goes for a walk on the beach at three in the fucking morning in November?”
I look around when I reach the sand, but I don’t see Jeremy. The waves are thunderous, and my panic escalates.
What if something happened to him?
I walk as fast as I can, trying not to trip over any stray pieces of driftwood. I walk until my calves burn. I scan the beach again and finally spot him. He’s standing on the shore with his hands in his pockets, his hair blowing around his ears. His sweats are pushed up to his knees, and I balk at the fact that he’s not wearing shoes.
A relieved sigh bursts from my lungs, and I double over, trying to catch my breath. By contrast, Jeremy appears eerily calm, and it pisses me right off. I take off toward him, trying to ignore the way my loose laces, now wet with sand and saltwater, slap at my legs. The cold sinks into my skin, heightening myannoyance, and by the time I’m within ten feet of him, I’m seething.
“Jeremy! What the fuck are you doing?”
He startles but relaxes when our eyes meet, and he smiles.
The fucker actuallysmiles.
Doesn’t he understand how cold I am right now?
My body is shaking when I reach him, and I clench my teeth to keep them from chattering. My hands are damp and numb, and they ache.
“What’re you doing out here, Marcus?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I sputter. “Do you have a death wish or something? What’reyoudoing out here?”
He shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep. I had a nightmare.”
“So you decided it was smart to walk out here in the dark?”
“The moon is out, so I felt safe enough.” His smile is impish as he studies me. “Were you worried about me?”
“Yes!” I don’t know why I’m yelling. While the wind and waves are loud, we’re close enough that we can hear each other just fine. But I was worried, goddammit. And not just worried. I wasscared. For him. “What if one of those ninja waves got you?”
He looks amused. “You mean a sneaker wave?”
“Yes, one of those!” My eyes dart to the ocean like one might hit us any second, but the water seems a bit calmer than it was a few minutes ago. “I had one hit me. Knocked me completely off my feet. And I was a full-grown teen, not some little kid.”
Jeremy pinches my chin, turning my gaze back to his, and frowns. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t think about that.”
The anger drains from my body, and I find myself moving closer, till our bodies are inches apart. With our height difference, he has to peer up at me. But somehow, as always, he’s still has all the control. His gentle grip is warm against my skin, and I lean into his touch. He smiles faintly, and his fingers leave my chin and trail up my cheek to my forehead, pushing the hairfrom my eyes. I let him. For once, I want him to touch me, and it’s like he’s siphoning the leftover adrenaline from my system.
My heart pounds louder than the ocean, vibrating my whole body. I feel the ice-cold water lap at my feet and seep into my boots, but I don’t care anymore. Not with the way he’s looking at me like no one ever has.
Like heseesme.
In the moonlight, Jeremy’s pale skin is flawless—almost translucent—and his hair shines silver, giving him an otherworldly aura. He’s the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.
My eyes drop to his mouth. “Do I want to kiss you?” The rough words spill from my mouth of their own volition, and I suspect I have a look of shock on my face because Jeremy chuckles.
“I don’t know, big guy. Do you?” When I don’t answer, he purses his lips. “Marcus,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the crashing waves. “Why are you fighting this? What have we really got to lose?”
