Page 21 of Stranded

“Yep.” Alph beams at me. “You?”

My throat tightens. I can’t explain how much lighter I feel, how much weight I’ve shrugged off since coming to Sunrise Island. I didn’t realize what I’ve been carrying around with me… or for how long.

“Very,” I tell him with a shiver.

Alph frowns with concern, crunching to a halt on the gravel road. “Here,” he offers, raising his arm to make space next to him. “If you want to stay warm. It’s always cooler here than on the mainland.”

“Thank you.” I scoot close to Alph before he can think twice. “Thank god I brought the hoodie, at least.” He settles his arm around my shoulder, and I suddenly can’t think straight.

The difference between us is about three inches of height and fifty pounds of muscle… and somehow, our bodies fit together perfectly. He’s a furnace—and now that I’m thinking about his body, so am I.

“You really are my hero,” I murmur.

He laughs it off and keeps walking, and I swallow hard.

Everything in me just wants to press closer to him, tilt my chin up to kiss him, take offmorelayers.

I want him to wrap me up in his arms, lift me off the ground, and surge inside me until we’re sweating and moaning and panting each other’s names…

God, this is killing me.

If I can tempt Alph to be less of a perfect gentleman, I won’t cry about it. But it’s actually really touching, too. I don’t think anybody else has treated me with so much respect.

I doubt any of my Grindr guys would have saved me fromanyof this. Even if I sucked their dicks afterward… and I really do believe that Alph isn’t trying to get anything out of me.

It’s the weirdest thing. I already trust Alph so much. He’s the kind of guy who’d give a stranger the shirt off his back. But he’s really going above and beyond for me.

Why?

I should be more suspicious about him. I promised myself on Maple Island that I’d stop blindly relying on other people. Yet here I am, walking along a dark road and planning to live in a stranger’s guest room.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I snort. It would be kind of rude to tell him the whole truth, but… he did ask. “Just hoping I’m not going to end up on a podcast any time soon.”

Before I can clarify, Alph lights up and squeezes me even tighter around the shoulders. “Oh! You’d be great on a podcast, though. Like, talking about your clothes…?”

Oh, my god.

My heart melts at his adorably clueless grin. He’s being so supportive and sweet that I can’t actually bring myself to tell him I listen to true crime podcasts.

I bet he doesn’t even know what they are. It seems like a genre that would only give him more things to worry about.

“Yes, sweetie,” I laugh, looking up at the star-covered sky. “To talk about my clothes.”

I glance back down, and Alph is watching me with that look on his face again… like he’s totally bemused, yet fascinated.

A thousand butterflies in my stomach launch into flight at once.

It sounds silly, but honestly, the way he looks at me makes me feel a little bit faint. The silence is suddenly straining under the tension between us. Nestled into his side, something draws me toward him. I’m fighting this chemistry with all my might.

Don’t kiss him again. Don’t kiss him again. I can’t fuck this up by kissing him again…

“I’m basically a stranger, you know,” I blurt out. “Staying in your home. How come you trust me so much? What if… what if I rob you blind?”

“Then what?” Alph smiles. “It’s an island.”

He’s got a point.

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