AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He waited as I put on my shoes and finally grabbed my purse. We walked to the front door, and he paused, waiting for me to lock the door. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
Soon, we were on our way to the harbor, and I was sitting in his truck, enjoying the view.
Both the one sitting next to me and the one out my window.
“Oh, hey, I’m sorry about the shower,” I finally said, remembering our awkward encounter this morning.
His eyes shifted to mine for the slightest second before they returned to the road. “You’re sorry for showering?”
“I didn’t even ask.”
“I don’t recall saying you had to.”
The truth was, I hadn’t exactly planned on it. It wasn’t like I had clean clothes to change into, but I couldn’t sleep. I’d been up all night, tossing and turning, and when I heard him slip out of the house at dawn, I became even more restless. I sat up in bed and scrolled through social media on my phone.
And then I looked around that sparse guest bedroom, and my thoughts started to drift back to Macon.
It didn’t take long to find him.
For a guy who was all about safety, his profile was not nearly as private as I would have thought.
Of course, there wasn’t much to it either.
I scrolled, and I scrolled.
He hadn’t posted any updates in years. He’d been tagged in a few things related to the town and such, but personally, the only thing he’d changed in more than five years was his profile picture.
When I finally got to a picture of him and his ex-wife, I felt my heart stutter.
I recognized her immediately. That blonde hair and bright white smile. She had her arms wrapped around him, and that was when it hit me.
White-hot jealousy.
It was so swift and sudden that I threw my phone on the bed like it was on fire.
I hadn’t felt that kind of jealousy since?—
I needed to clear my head. I needed to get up and out of that room. So, that was how I ended up sneaking across the hall while he was out, hoping the hot water would wash those thoughts right down the drain.
It didn’t.
When I heard the front door open, I quickly shut the water off and tried to dash back into the guest room, undetected.
But I ran into Macon instead.
He was slick with sweat, those massive biceps on display, thanks to the loose-fitting tank he wore. My eyes were everywhere, and before I could say a word, he’d darted down the hallway and disappeared.
Since then, I’d done a very good job of convincing myself that what I had felt was anger toward his wife because of how she’d treated Macon—not jealousy.
No. Definitely not jealousy.
We pulled to the curb, and Macon put the car in park. The smell of salty sea air and fried food drifted into my nose the second I pushed open the door and met Macon to cross the street.
Although the autumn in the Outer Banks wasn’t known for being chilly, I pulled my sweater tight around my chest as the breeze from the ocean hit my face.
“Are you cold?” Macon asked.
“A little,” I admitted.
