Page 36 of Hide Me Darling

Hydessa

“Taylor!”

I turn around to see Makai approaching from the direction of his gym, a broad smile on his face. He's wearing workout clothes, his muscular frame accentuated by a fitted tank top.

“Hi, Makai!” I greet with a smile, noticing exactly what has Allegra swooning.

“I haven’t seen you come into the gym yet,” he says when he gets close enough.

“It’s only been a day,” I chuckle, feeling slightly guilty. “I know, I know, I’ve been meaning to. I’ve just been busy settling in and getting to know everyone.”

Makai nods, his smile unwavering. “I get it. Moving to a new place can be overwhelming. But you should definitely come by. We’ve got some great classes, and it’s a good way to meet people and stay in shape.”

I think about it for a moment since I will probably be going for a run anyway, a class wouldn’t hurt. “What classes do you have in the mornings?”

Makai’s eyes light up with enthusiasm. “We have a yoga class and also a circuit training class in the mornings. Tomorrow happens to be a circuit day.”

“Sounds interesting. What time is it at?” I ask.

“7:30 AM,” he replies. “In the mornings, it’s mostly locals because tourists don’t exactly like getting out of bed that early to exercise while on vacation.”

I nod, realizing he might be right and that it could be a good opportunity to gather more information about the locals. “I’ll definitely try to make it in the morning.”

“That’s great! See you then, Taylor.”

“See you, Makai,” I reply, but he is already turning to jog back toward the gym.

Did he just come out here to get me to go to the gym soon? Was he watching and waiting for me to leave the bakery?

Shaking off the thought, I turn away from the gym and resume my walk down the street. The town is starting to feel more familiar as I stroll along, recognizing faces and exchanging friendly nods with locals going about their morning routines. It's becoming easier to distinguish between tourists and islanders—the relaxed pace and purposeful strides of the locals contrasting with the more leisurely and often bewildered wanderings of visitors armed with maps and cameras.

As I walk, I can't help but mull over Makai's friendly persistence. Was he genuinely eager for me to join his gym classes, or was there more to his encouragement? His timing, appearing just as I left the bakery, was almost too perfect. Like he had been watching me.

Lost in my thoughts I almost collide with someone standing squarely in my path. Startled, I jerk back a step, only to realize it's Rye. The slightly weathered lines of his face softened by a faint quirk of amusement.

"Sorry for startling you," he says, his voice carrying a touch of humor.

I blink at him, momentarily taken aback. "That's okay. I should have been paying more attention," I respond with a slight shrug.

His demeanor shifts slightly, the humor fading from his expression. "I was actually hoping I would run into you," he admits, his tone earnest now. "I wanted to apologize for what I said. I shouldn't assume things, and even if I had, I shouldn't have been so vocal about it."

I dip my head in acknowledgement, appreciating his candor. "It's fine. It's not like you know me," I offer softly.

He nods, a faint smile tugging at his lips again. "It feels like I know you though," he admits cryptically, then shrugs as if dismissing the thought. "You're the talk of the town. Everyone is saying something about you everywhere I go."

Internally, I cringe at the thought of being the center of attention, especially in such a small community where gossip can spread like wildfire. "Is that so?" I manage to say, trying to keep my tone neutral.

Rye nods, his expression thoughtful. His attention shifts to something across the street for a moment before he focuses on me again. “Anyway, maybe if you do stick around we could grab a coffee sometime,” he says with a grin.

I huff a laugh at his dig about me staying before I shrug. “Maybe... who knows, I might run away to a different island instead,” I joke and start to walk past him, but he just rolls his eyes good-naturedly and proceeds in the opposite direction to me.

As I continue down the street, I take a moment to find a spot on the bench where I can sit and observe, attempting to blend in while keeping an eye on those around me. Sheriff Brooks is once again outside the station, a cigarette in hand, his gaze sweeping over the tourists.

He seems vigilant, ever watchful for any signs of trouble. Across the street, Deputy Eli stands with his arms crossed sternly, addressing a pair of teenagers with a serious expression, likely reprimanding them for some misdeed.

My thoughts drift to the seemingly perfect façade of this town. It makes me wonder how much actually goes unnoticed here. With so many people coming and going, how many other transgressions slip under the radar? The bloggers brought attention to the tourist murders, but how many other crimes go unanswered?

I shift on the bench, my gaze drifting back to Sheriff Brooks, who is now flicking his cigarette to the ground and grinding it out with his boot. He smiles slightly as he watches a group of tourists pass by, their loud chatter piercing in volume. He seems to enjoy the happiness of the tourists, but I wonder if he could really enjoy so many people here.

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