Page 100 of After You Returned

Which is good. Since I love him. I’d hate to be in love with a complete jerk.

I need to figure out a way to tell him. A hand on my stomach doesn’t stand a mermaid’s chance on land of helping me fromspiraling out now. Tell Miles I love him? What a stupid idea. He’s enjoying chasing me. What happens when the chase is over? Will the fun be over, too? Will the excitement have died?

I hate this doubt. I never used to question Miles and his feelings. I knew he loved me. I was secure in our relationship. Until he blew my security to smithereens.

Ugh! I pound a fist on the mattress. I hate being this insecure woman. It’s not me. I know what I want and I go get it.

I love Miles. It’s a fact. An undeniable fact. And the smugglers know I tried to deny it. For years.

It’s time to tell him I love him. And face whatever consequences may come.

I’m a grown woman. I can handle consequences. My heart contracts and I clutch my chest as fear slithers its way into my veins.

I grit my teeth and roll out of bed. I am not letting fear rule me. Not anymore.

I snag Miles’s sweatshirt from the floor and put it on. It’s long enough to be a skirt on me. I stumble to the kitchen.

Miles smiles at me from his seat at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Blaze.”

“You’re up early.”

He chuckles as he stands and kisses my forehead. “Sit. I’ll make you a coffee.”

I don’t argue. If Miles wants to make me coffee, he can make me coffee.

I stare outside at the view as he prepares my drink. It’s an awesome view. The beach is visible beyond the copse of trees. Beyond the beach is the sea.

“I could sit here and stare at the water all day,” I murmur as Miles hands me a mug.

He squeezes my shoulder. “Sit for as long as you want. If I had my way, you’d never leave.”

Never leave? Does he want me to move in with him? Despite my recent decision to tell him I love him, I hold up a hand. “It’s too early for that kind of talk.”

You may now refer to me as Hazel, the big fat chicken. Or scaredy-cat. Either way is unfortunately accurate.

“It’s a good thing you’re not a surfer. You’d miss all the good waves.”

I motion to the water. “Go ahead. Knock yourself out. I have no intention of being eaten by a shark at this time of the morning.”

“But in the afternoon is okay?”

I glare at him. “You know what I meant.”

He drags my chair closer until we’re touching and kisses my nose. “You’re grumpy this morning.”

“I didn’t get much sleep. Someone…” I poke his chest, “kept me awake most of the night.”

He waggles his eyebrows. “I heard no complaints.”

And he won’t either. I’ll take being tired every morning if I can spend every night with Miles getting sweaty in the sheets.

But being tired is not why I’m grumpy. Nope. My whirling mind is to blame for any grumpiness. I can practically hear theping pong back and forth in my mind. Tell Miles I love him. No, don’t tell him. Yes, tell him. No, don’t.

It’s enough to give anyone a migraine.

“Listen, I…,” I begin but then pause since I have no idea where I’m going with this sentence.

“You what?”