Page 76 of Forget Me Not

After leaving Nova, I headed back to the boats to get Hope’s Grace cleaned up, but I can’t get her out of my head. She’s there, a constant reminder that she’s something I can’t have. Not really.

I shouldn’t have touched her. I shouldn’t have taken it that extra step too far. I should care more about not doing it again than I do.

Make no mistake. I’m not naïve enough to think it won’t happen again. Fuck, I keep checking the clock until I know she’ll be home, just so I can go see her. It’s just . . . I know it’s a bad idea.

I’ve become an addict. One night was all it took and now, I can’t think of anything else except my next hit.

And she didn’t even touch me.

When the sun starts to hang lower on the water, I decide enough is enough. I’ve scrubbed every nook and cranny of Hope’s Grace and while it doesn’t look a whole lot better, it’s clean and I can’t wait around any longer.

I need to see her.

I stop off at the inn for a shower (I know, I’m learning this whole civilized person bit) and then climb the hill to the cabin, feeling more and more like Nova’s a princess in her tower above the town.

Knocking on the door, I hear the muffled sound of her footsteps and then seconds later, it opens and every ounce of the agitation I’d felt coiling in my gut all afternoon washes away.

“Hey,” she smiles, blushing prettily as she steps out and shuts the door behind her. “Sorry, I’ve—”

I don’t give her time to reply, tugging her into me and pressing my lips to hers roughly. We fall against the house, her body fitting against mine perfectly. She melts into the kiss, her arms locking around my neck, and slips her tongue into my mouth. A groan tears up my throat and I suck on the tip, mimicking her move from last night.

“I had to see you,” I murmur darkly, my voice deep and my breathing ragged. Aimlessly, her hands slip down my front, coming to rest at my belt.

A loud throat clears to my right and Nova shoves me back like I’m on fire. An older man, probably in his fifties stands there smiling and waving cheerfully at us, not an ounce of negative emotion to having just caught me with his daughter’s ass in my palm.

“Dad,” Nova says, her voice higher than usual. “I told you I’d be back in a minute.”

Dad?

Fuck me.

“Oh, I wanted to meet your friends,” he says happily, like he didn’t just see me tongue-fucking his daughter seconds before. “Who’s this strapping young lad?”

I don’t think I’ve ever been called a strapping young lad in my fucking life.

Nova’s cheeks flame and she smooths down the front of her top. Under normal circumstances, her embarrassment of someone catching us would make me chuckle. Right now, I’m just worried about getting shot. “This is Reid,” she says, clearing her throat. “My friend.”

We’re back on the friend kick? I’ll punish her for that later.

“Reid, this is my dad. They arrived from Portland today. Wanted to surprise me.”

Nova’s dad sticks his hand out, taking mine and shaking it with a grip that can crush bones. “Will Fischer.”

“Reid Morrison,” I reply, glancing at Nova. I wouldn’t have come if I’d had known her parents were here. The hair on the back of my neck rises, like I’m seconds away from being shocked by electricity.

In all my life, I’ve never met a girl’s parents. I’ve never wanted to. Any girls I was with that lasted longer than a couple days eventually moved on to find more permanent relationships, so I never had to worry about it. Not that I would have. Meeting the parents symbolizes there might be something more to come and I’m not the guy to give that to girls like Nova. Women love me . . . for a time. Parents fucking hate me.

“You a local fisherman?” Will asks.

“Stationed out of Portland,” I tell him as the door opens and an older version of Nova steps out, the same wide smile her husband had. It’s almost terrifying how closely Nova resembles her mother. Like she hit copy, paste, and a little blonde-haired, blue-eyed brat was born.

“That’s amazing,” Will beams when his eyes land on what must be Nova’s mom and he holds his arm out to her. “And there’s my beautiful wife. Sarra, this is Reid, Nova’s friend. Reid, this is Nova’s mom, Sarra.”

I find the word friend leaves a sour taste in my mouth. I fucking hate it almost as much as I hate the sparkling in Nova’s eyes and what that means.

Sarra shakes my hand, smiling brightly and a certain unease sets in my bones telling me to get the fuck out while I can. These people seem to be some of the nicest people I’ve ever met—on the surface—which makes me wonder what they’re really like. This man . . . doesn’t seem anything like what I pictured when Nova told me her father was a former alcoholic with a penchant for cheating on his wife.

I know, I know. Don’t judge a book by its cover and all that, but I’d rather that than end up running with a shotgun slug stuck in my ass. This island’s only so big.

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