Page 145 of Her Reluctant Hero
He’d left that day and never came back.
Friends don’t hurt each other the way we did.
He should make her go home before he hurt her again.
He wasn’t going to be able to sleep, not with that image in his head. He rolled out of bed and walked over to open the sliding glass door onto the balcony. The rhythm of the waves, the scent of the sea had never failed to calm him, but being up here—he was too far away. He needed the sand, the water.
Mallory was right—he wasn’t meant for four walls.
Wishing for his sleeping bag, he grabbed a towel instead and headed downstairs.
The beach was mostly empty this late—it had to be close to two in the morning. But there, knee deep in the surf, illuminated by the moon, stood a blonde in a thin T-shirt, facing the open water, arms stretched over her head.
Mallory.
The feeling hit him hard, like a kick in the chest.Mine.
