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“Oh, Reese,” I whisper, snuggling closer as the storm rages on outside, the wind howling through the hut.
He shifts beside me, murmuring something again. Then, his arm slides round me and he buries his face in my neck, sending a bolt of heat through me.
“Mmm, Liv.” His words rumble through me.
“I’m here, Reese. I’m right here.”
I close my eyes, holding onto the broken boy who has stolen my heart.
But when I wake up sometime later to a crack of thunder, Reese isn’t asleep.
He’s awake.
Staring right at me.
And he doesn’t look happy to see me.
My heart tumbles.
“R-Reese,” I say. “You’re—”
“I’m going to ask this once and only once, Olivia. What the fuck are you doing here?”
14
REESE
My heart thunders in my chest and white noise races past my ears as my head spins with confusion. My mouth is dry, my tongue thick from way too much vodka last night.
But what the hell else was I meant to do after finding out that everything I thought I knew about my life, my family, is nothing but lies. All my life, Mum and Dad made out that they were happy, that they were in love. But the reality of that seems to be very, very different.
Why lie? Why try and cover it all up? Did they want to fuck me up beyond repair, to shatter my trust in the two people I should be able to rely on?
The question I growled at Olivia hangs in the air between us. I know what I want her to say, but at the same time, I also want to believe that this isn’t real. That she’s a figment of my imagination. Because why would she come here? We’re ninety minutes away from Saints Cross. Why would she have driven here in the middle of the night in a howling storm?
I squeeze my eyes closed for a beat, hoping like fuck that when I open them again, the world starts making more sense.
But when that time comes, I still find her lying right in front of me, chewing on her bottom lip as if she’s trying to come up with yet another lie.
“Olivia,” I growl, having less than zero patience with bullshit right now.
“I came for you,” she blurts, reaching forward and resting her hand on my chest.
I swat it away the second she makes contact with me.
“Well, you shouldn’t have bothered. Did you want to come and gloat that karma had kicked me in the arse?”
“What? No. I was worried, and then I got home and your mum said—”
“She said what?” I spit, pushing to sit up, although I regret it instantly when the world spins around me.
Fuck. How much did I fucking drink last night?
One glance at the empty bottle of vodka in the corner of the small beach hut gives me a serious clue.
“Your dad called her. She said something had happened and that she was worried. So I—”
“Came to rub salt into the wound. You should go home, Olivia. I’m not good enough for your concern, remember?”
