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“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” Dylan snaps the band of his boxer briefs. “Probably should keep these on. I don’t think our sister would enjoy seeing my cock.”
I press my lips together. Honestly, I don’t think she’d mind, but he can never know that. With awhoop, Dylan sets off down the beach.
Quinn whirls around. I’m too far away to see her expression, but I can picture it. Wide eyes devouring Dylan’s muscles. Mouth popped open in that tempting O shape. And then her gaze would slowly find mine, like it always does.
I take a deep breath and march down the beach, dropping my ass into the sand to keep an eye on them. To protect them.
Twenty-Two
QUINN
Coming up for air, I kick hard and suck in a deep breath. The next wave is far enough away, I have a moment to recover. A loudwhoopcomes from the shore. I spin around, eyes widening on Dylan, who is practically naked and sprinting straight toward me.
Holy. Fucking. Muscle.
The magazines don’t do him justice. Dylan’s body, covered in ink and cut in all the right ways, is a work of art. The wild grin on his face draws a smile across my own. Something shifts farther up the beach, and my eyes stray in that direction. Brady steps out from the side of the shed. My eyebrows hit my hairline and my stomach flips.
How long has he been there?
Was he watching me?
What does it matter? I’m still pissed at him, and I hate that it bothers me. I don’t want to be mad at him. All I want is for him to accept me. For him to take me into his arms and claim me.
Dylan splashes into the water, laughing as it slows him down. My attention shifts, and I have a moment of panic that he’ll notice my scent, but the descenting lotion is waterproof. Theonly thing I’m missing is my scent-wicking underwear...but the brine of the sea and the wind should be enough to protect me.
He grins at me, then flicks his gaze over my shoulder, eyes widening.
Oh, crap. Seeing the alphas made me forget about the whole goddamn ocean at my back. I hold my breath right as the weight of the world crashes into my shoulders. The tall wave coasts over my head and pushes me forward. The biggest mistake people make is fighting the current. That zaps your energy and, really, against rough waves like this, it won’t do a thing.
So, I let it draw me closer to Dylan, who is in shallow enough water that he merely stumbles. His eyes are still on me and, god,that smile, wide and delighted and shadowed by a chaotic energy.
“What’s a little omega like yourself doing out here?” he teases, diving under the water. In the matter of three powerful strokes, he’s beside me, in deep enough water, it makes more sense to tread than stand.
“I was trying to have some alone time.”
“You know people usually do that in the shower, right?” His lips twitch.
I splash him. “You’re disgusting. You know what I meant.”
Laughing, he turns with me to face the oncoming wave. It hits us, and I submit to the power of the water just as I’ve been doing, only, this time, a hand finds mine under the water. Fingers clasp around mine and my heart jumps into my throat.
I push toward the surface and Dylan kicks as well. We break water and our eyes connect, fingers still entwined, and we share a look. His hair is dripping and he’s breathing heavily, but his irises dance with delight. It’s then I understand that, as different as we are, in this moment, we’re the same.
I’m not alone.
We’re both fighting that which aims to control us. Dylan is battling Brady, and I’m battling my own body. I’m battling the flutter in my stomach and the ache in my core.
He squeezes my hand and tips his head toward the next wave. “I know you want to be alone, but can I stay?”
Pulling my gaze from his, I stare across the vast ocean and swallow. “Okay,” I whisper right before the water takes me under. With our fingers still interlaced, Dylan and I fight our demons.
Twenty-Three
DYLAN
I’d have to be an idiot not to notice the way Quinn glances at me, like she’s terrified of what she might find. I don’t know that I understand what it means. The last thing I want is for her to be afraid of me. Our relationship is weird. She’s my sister by marriage, but I’ve never thought of her that way.
The first thing I’d thought when I saw her was that she was beautiful.
