Page 83 of Rebel Summer

The senator went on like I had never spoken. “That makes two large donors who have pulled out since you arrived back on the island.”

Don’t let him make you feel guilty for taking up space in this world.

You can mess up and still be here.

I wondered if Dax had learned that lesson himself.

My dad suddenly looked at something over my shoulder and smiled his big politician smile. “Hey, Bill! How are you?!”

I glanced back at the older man waving at my dad before moving onward. It was smart of him to come visit me in such a public place, where he was just a doting father visiting his daughter at work.

Well played, really.

“And do you know what the hardest part of it all is?” he went on. “I don’t know what to believe. Lucas burst into our meeting with a cracked nose and blood dripping down his face, claiming that he was saying goodnight at your door, and all of a sudden, your overprotective boyfriend with the tattoos started going crazy and beating on him. He said he barely got away.”

I shook my head, feeling sick at the lies. Feeling sick that he believed it. “He was pushing me too far, and Dax stepped in. End of story.”

“You want to know the worst part? I stood up for you.” He laughed bitterly. “I told them there was no way. She doesn’t have a boyfriend, and she’s staying at a friend’s house. My daughter can be a lot of things, but she’s not a liar. They looked at me like I had fallen for the oldest trick in the book—telling dear old dad you were staying at a friend’s house and instead running straight to the boy I’d made pretty clear you were to stay away from.” He swept his gaze down my arm, lingering on my tattoo. “And now it seems that boy is leaving his mark everywhere.”

“I lied because I couldn’t tell you the truth.”

“I told you to stay away from him.”

“I’m staying at his duplex to get away from you. So, it’s really your fault if you think about it.” I motioned toward the street where the man had just disappeared. “Maybe if you were the kind of person you act like in public, I’d have been happy to stay with you. But you’re not. And you can’t control me anymore.” I started backing away. He stepped toward me, but I threw up my hands to ward him off. “I’m going back to work.”

He might have had plenty left to say, but I didn’t have to listen.

I turned the corner, out of the alleyway, striding toward the restaurant when the cafe door flew open and Dax stepped out into the sunlight. He was a few paces away from the door, before he noticed me.

My determined stride noticeably waned until my feet stopped all together. For a long moment, we stood there, staring.

Use me however you want.

My heart began pounding erratically. It felt like the beginning of a race, where all the runners were poised, ready for the gunshot. One of us had to move. I thought of my dad—siding with Lucas without even questioning me. Without even asking if I was okay. Blaming me for all his problems. My blood nearly boiled over. Yes. I wanted to make him mad. I wanted to scratch and claw and scream. As a child, I never had a voice, but right now, my veins were blazing hot.

I knew Dax wasn’t going to make the first move. Even as he watched with a curious anticipation, he would let me lead where I was comfortable, and for that, I was grateful. But I was tired of comfort. I didn’t want to be careful anymore. I didn’t want to be told what to do or what not to do. I wanted to feel alive. So I began closing the distance toward the one person who had a particular knack for making me feel everything.

He watched me coming, even braced himself for impact because I wasn’t slowing. I didn’t know if my dad would see this, I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to, but Dax had given me an excuse and I was taking it.

Somewhere in my march toward him, I lost a bit of my nerve and instead of the brash, dominant kiss I’d envisioned, my hands stopped at his chest, and my lips stalled halfway to his mouth. With a trace of amusement lining his features, he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist, drawing me against him, moving us away from the windows of the cafe.

I raised myself up on my tiptoes, determined to finish what I started. Our lips were so close. The idea of it had seemed easier a moment ago, but now?—

“Chicken,” Dax goaded, his eyes sparkling.

My gaze narrowed, shooting him a warning look before I closed the distance.

Our lips came together gently at first—a series of sweet hellos in soft succession. Dax’s hands stayed lightly at my waist, while mine remained tucked at his chest, sandwiched between the press of our bodies. A cry for more echoed inside me almost immediately, even while caution tinged the air. The heat from his chest seeped through my shirt and one of his hands glided up my arm before resting against my cheek. I shivered, wanting more, but I was determined to ground myself in some sort of reality. This moment didn’t mean anything. It couldn’t mean anything. And I needed him to know that.

I pulled back, blinking hard, my voice unsteady. “Just to be clear, this is about proving something to my dad. I’m leaving in a few weeks. And I don’t like you.”

A low breathy chuckle escaped his lips. The unfortunate kind that had me craving a life of beaches and babies and a warm Floridian sun.

“I don’t like you either,” he murmured, his left hand grazing my cheek to tuck a curl behind my ear. He glanced past my shoulder, his teeth sliding across his lower lip. “But we’d better put aside our differences, because your dad’s about to get in his golf cart and he’s looking this way.”

“This was a bad idea,” I whispered, unable to resist Dax pulling me closer.

“You started it,” he said, a breath away.

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