Page 58 of Reckless Hearts

Mitch

I’m beyond sobbing when I get to the end of the letter. I have no idea how he knew I would need to hear these words, but in true Mitch fashion, he comes bearing the best advice.

Shoving away the tears that blur my vision, I climb from my bed, quickly scratching out a note for the girls telling them I went to see Flynn.

I drop it on the kitchen table and silently leave through the back door. Locking it behind me, I slip my feet into a pair of old flip flops that sit on the deck, and I make my way along the beach, following it until The Pipe Dream appears.

Crossing the street, I stop in front of it. The sign is still lit up, and I laugh out loud. Nate never remembers to turn it off, and I can hear Mitch crabbing about electricity and the cost to keep the sign on overnight.

It’s not even lit up. It’s just a hand-painted sign with some lights pointing at it, but it’s perfect. And it’s a reminder of Mitch.

I stand out here for a few seconds, the tears returning, but this time they feel happier. Mitch’s words play out in my head, reminding me that sometimes we have to take risks.

And Flynn feels like the best risk of all.

“Thanks, Mitch,” I whisper into the wind, blowing a kiss at The Pipe Dream before I move quietly back to the guest cottage.

It’s so late that there’s no way Flynn is still awake. He’s been getting up before sunrise to run with me, and I didn’t tell him any different. Normally, I’d be getting up in a few hours to do the same.

But not today.

I lift up the mat, finding the key under there, and I silently send up a thank you to either Nate or Sage or both. They must have forgotten it was there, and that’s perfect.

Pushing the key into the lock, my heart is beating wildly, my body wound so tightly I feel like I might burst.

The low hum of the TV fills the space, glowing in the darkness, and I can see Flynn asleep on the couch. It must be where he ended his night after drinking with the guys.

As I get closer to him, I can see his phone resting next to his head, waiting for my reply, waiting for me to call him.

I whisper his name, leaning down, I run my hand over his hair. His eyes flutter open, his lids heavy as he looks up at me.

“Alana.” His voice is gravelly but velvety soft, and my thighs clench in response. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here for you.”

I can’t tellif I’m dreaming or if this is real.

Alana’s hand cups my jaw as she hovers over me, a soft smile on her face. I take her hand in mine, sitting up as I lift it to my lips and press a kiss to each knuckle.

“Are you really here?” I ask her.

She nods. “I am.”

“Why, how?” I ask, confused.

She blows out a breath. “I’m tired of fighting this, Flynn,” she whispers. “It’s worth the risk,youare worth the risk.”

My heart pounds in my chest as I now stand, never letting go of her hand as my other one curls around the back of her neck and I pull her to me. I mean for it to be soft, gentle, but our lips come together in a hard kiss, all the frustration from these past few days getting unleashed as we both finally give in.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my mouth never leaving hers. “Because you?—”

Alana pulls back, her fingers pressing against my lips. “Yes. I’m sure.”

“Fuck,” I growl, pulling her closer as I kiss her again, hard and hungry, our lips and teeth and tongues colliding.

My whole body feels electrified, wound so tight that it’s like I could snap at any moment. As much as I want her, though, I also don’t want to rush this moment. Don’t want a quick hard fuck when this now feels like so much more than that. I want to savor her, devour her, spend the entire night worshiping her.

“Come to bed,” I murmur against her mouth.

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