Page 25

He slows and pulls to a stop, and I reluctantly drop my hands from his broad chest and pat down my wayward curls as he dismounts.

“I should have made sure you wore a helmet. I’m not making that mistake again.” He shakes his head and looks down at his combat boots, unable to hold eye contact with me, and when he brings his eyes back up to mine, I see the regret seeping into them. “You make me lose my damn mind, Little Nightmare.”

God, I hope that’s true.

He holds his hand out for me, and I slide off the bike. Instead of letting go of my hand, his fingers tighten around me. “Shall we go for a walk?”

I glance over my shoulder toward the sea. “It would be silly not to after coming all this way and.”

Then he tugs me toward him and throws his arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer and burying his nose in my hair.

From the outside looking in, we must look like the perfect loved-up couple, and that’s exactly what I plan on us becoming.

“Come on, Little Nightmare. Let’s see if we can find some starfish.” I tilt my head to give him a smile, and he winks for the second time today, and I swear I melt.

We didn’t find starfish, but we did find the perfect spot to purchase ice cream; it’s just a shame so did others.

We sit at one of the wooden benches overlooking the waves crashing against the shoreline, and it would be perfect if a bunch of teenagers at the next table over weren’t staring in our direction. My direction, to be precise, and though I don’t pay them any attention, I thought they looked vaguely familiar when we arrived. Maybe they’re local and come to the swimming pool I use?

Jensen’s jaw clenches. His ice cream is dripping down his hand as he gawks straight ahead. It’s clear he’s pissed, though I’m unsure why.

I’m about to ask him when someone approaches our table. “Immie? I thought that was you. What are you doing here?”

Great, just what I need—Brett.

I turn to face my friend and flash him a smile I don’t feel.

Things are already tense and awkward between Jensen and me, and they’re about to become worse.

The atmosphere surrounding us takes a plummet. “Hi. I’m here with Jensen.” I motion toward Jensen.

“You’re Imogen’s dad, right?” He holds his hand out toward Jensen, and you could cut the tension with a knife.

Jensen glares in the direction of Brett’s open hand. Then his hazel eyes snap to mine. “We’re leaving.” He stands and dumps his ice cream into the trash can.

“Hey. There’s a pretty cool superbike just up north of the dunes. Don’t suppose you know who it belongs to, do you?” Brett shouts in Jensen’s direction.

He knows damn well who it belongs to. When he dropped me off from practice one day, he came inside to use the restroom, and I found him in the garage admiring Jensen’s bike.

Jensen turns and fixes Brett with a deadly stare, then steps forward. “You so much as touch my bike, you little punk, and I’ll cut your fucking hand off.”

Brett’s smirk shocks me. He doesn’t seem the least bit fazed by Jensen’s threat. Sure, it might be because he has a bunch of friends behind him, but still, the sinister glare he delivers to Jensen would leave grown men quaking.

Has Brett always been this arrogant, and I’ve just never noticed it before?

“Jensen. Let’s go.” I tug on his arm, and his gaze slices to my hand, then he licks his lips and casts his gaze up to mine, and his face softens.

“Yeah. We’re leaving.” He spins on his boots and takes my hand from his arm. Without letting go, he leads me away from the table.

“See you around, Imogen!” Brett bellows, though it sounds more like a taunt than a promise.

“Over my dead fucking body,” Jensen grumbles, so low I don’t think I’m meant to hear, and inside, I do a little happy dance.

He’s jealous, he has to be, and every cell in my body comes alive at the thought.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

IMMIE