Page 11 of Stolen Summer

I guessed it was a good thing it had been Cole who stumbled upon me and not Crew.

Chapter Four

Iwas late.

I hated running behind, especially for my shift, but I’d slept like shit again last night and managed to silence my alarm while half asleep.

I had Frankie to thank for my fitful night. Well, her and Crew. I’d never met him, but after the colorful picture she painted yesterday on the beach for me, the nightmares took shape.

Since I only knew Cole’s face, his face materialized in my dreams, but his eyes were wrong, and when he found me in the pool and pulled me under, I never resurfaced. Not once.

I’d drowned more times than I could count last night.

Just past six in the morning, I yawned as I rushed out of the house, a tumbler of iced boba in my hand and my bag slung over my shoulder. The sky above was concealed in darkness, the wind off the ocean whipping like a jilted lover hellbent on revenge. A storm brewed, and a wicked one by the looks of it.

I never minded gloomy days. I particularly liked them. Something in the overcast skies spoke to my soul as if the heavens knew I’d been touched by tragedy and related to my pain. There was a beauty to the earth being washed away by such violent rains, the kind that shot to the earth in sheets. A part of me longed to plop down in the sand, waiting and watching for the moody gray clouds to open up and pour rain.

The heaviness of moisture in the air made breathing a little difficult, but not in a bad way, and unless I wanted to risk getting soaked before my shift, I should bite the bullet and drive.

I stared at the car I rarely drove. Since the accident, getting behind the wheel gave me the worst anxiety. If it wasn’t absolutely necessary, I walked.

I was already late; driving would make me less late and guaranteed I stayed dry. Thanks to Cole, I didn’t have a spare outfit to fall back on. What I had on was it, not that Ann or Forest would mind if I showed up without my uniform. They would understand. They were far too understanding.

“Shit,” I mumbled under my breath, setting the tumbler down on the hood while I fished out the keys from the bottom of my bag.

A car door slammed shut from another driveway, startling me. Since I was already on edge, it didn’t take much to send my heart racing. Nor did it take long for me to figure out where the sound had come from.

Don’t look in that direction, I warned my eyes. They didn’t listen. Not a single part of my body ever listened to my brain. It was maddening as was the sight of Cole Riley leaning against a sleek black car, staring at me.

Messy, dark hair blew with the ocean breeze. It had the look as if he’d just woken and forked his fingers through it. Given the time of day, he probably had. I might be leaving, but Cole Riley was just coming home.

From where? I didn’t give a shit.

Go. Just go. Quickly!

My legs and feet didn’t immediately move, not until I scolded them a second time. I ripped my gaze from his but not before I caught the hint of a smirk on his face. I dropped the keys back into my bag and grabbed my bubble tea, moving away from the car.

Rattled at seeing him again, I couldn’t get behind the wheel, not when I didn’t feel steady and secure, so I started to walk, increasing my pace down the driveway.

I neared the edge when his voice reached me. “Quinn,” Cole called, much closer than I anticipated.

I should have kept going and pretended I hadn’t heard him.

I didn’t.

Mistake number one.

My second mistake happened when I glanced up into his eyes. Jesus. Something about the gold flecks in the center of all that darkness made me wonder if he was part cat. I faltered a step and almost dumped my entire drink. That would have royally pissed me off.

I scowled at the hand he placed under my elbow to steady me. “Shit,” I cursed, tea spilling onto my hand. I glanced down, seeing a few stains forming on my shirt. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Irritation flared, warming my body temperature. At least this morning was cooler than the last few days. Small miracles.

Switching the tumbler to my other hand, I shook off the dribbles of liquid from my skin. “I’m in a hurry,” I said with a sharp bite. “What do you want?”

The hand on my elbow slowly drew away, dragging down my arm in a gesture that felt too intimate. Little tingles danced on my skin. “Looks like you might need a new shirt. Did you want to borrow mine again?” he asked, his eyes coy.

My mouth tightened as I glared at Cole. “I don’t have time to banter with you. I haven’t even had time to drink my boba yet, and you don’t want to speak to me until after I’ve had at least one cup.”

He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans. “I can wait.” His eyes went to the tumbler grasped between my fingers.

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