Page 28 of Reckless Hearts

Stay.

I know I can’t say any of this to her though, especially in front of everyone here. So I stay silent, holding her for longer than is normal, before I eventually loosen my arms, lifting my head from the crook of her neck.

“Good to see you again,” I croak out, my words rough.

“You too,” Alana says before she pulls herself from my arms, turns and walks away.

I finish helping Nate and Sage clean up before heading back inside the cottage I’m staying in. I’m not really tired, so I grab a beer from the fridge and collapse onto the couch, pulling my phone from my pocket. I open the message app and start typing without thinking.

Me: You get home okay?

I see the notice change from sent to read almost immediately as I stare at the screen, willing her to write back, even if it’s just to let me know she did. Eventually, the bubbles telling me she’s typing pop up on my screen, and I take a sip of beer, feeling weirdly nervous.

Alana: Yeah, you?

I bark out a laugh, typing out a response.

Me: I did, yeah. Thanks for checking. Tell me about today. You surf at Pe’ahi?

Alana: I did. We used the jet ski, but my body is aching. It’s been a while since I trained that hard.

Me: You doing anything out of the water, running or?

Alana: Yeah, I run.

As soon as I read that message, a memory, an image of Alana showing up here in her running gear, her body warm and oh so inviting, hits me. I remember peeling her running clothes off her, of carrying her to my bedroom, of being inside her with nothing between us.

“Jesus,” I mutter to myself, taking another sip of beer as I force myself to type out a response that isn’t me begging her to get over here.

Me: Good, you need to do both. I’m sure you know this already.

Alana: I do, but thanks

I blow out a breath, finishing my beer before I type out another message. Words I wanted to say to her tonight but couldn’t in case anyone overheard us.

Me: I really am sorry about how this has all played out, Alana. I never meant to hurt you or hide who I was from you.

Alana: I know, it’s okay, Flynn, seriously.

Me: It’s not though, not really.

I hit send without thinking about what my last message means, about the implications of my words, and maybe it’s not as obvious as I think, based on Alana’s reply.

Alana: What do you mean?

I know I’m wandering back into dangerous territory here, but I don’t care. Alana makes me feel reckless, like anything is possible, and I fucking love it. I want more of it.

Me: I should’ve told you who I was from the start. But a part of me is also glad neither of us knew who the other was because if we did, then none of what happened would have. And I really liked what happened between us. Liked it a lot.

Fuck me, what the hell am I doing?

Alana: I liked it too.

Her response is simple and everything all at the same time and I immediately start typing out words I know I shouldn’t say.

Me: I mean, maybe we could…we don’t have to make it a big deal. I’m not trying to get inside info on you, I promise. I just really like hanging out with you, Alana. On the water and, well…in my bed. I don’t want to stop doing any of that, even if it’s wrong. It doesn’t feel wrong to me. It feels right, so fucking right.

I’m staring at the screen, at the words I’ve written, which are beyond stupid. I can’t do anything with Alana no matter how much I try to convince myself or her that it’s not a thing, that it’s not wrong. It is wrong and we both know it and the last thing I want to do is get Alana in trouble.

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