Page 35 of Our Secret to Keep

“God, you’re such a dick,” Carter growls.

“Yeah. My dick is awesome. Thanks for noticing.”

His puck bunny giggles.

“If you wake up tomorrow and can’t find your girl, she’s in my bed.”

River uses this opportunity to slip out the door, but I slink through it and stand on the porch, baring my naked body to everyone on Greek Row.

“Nate, you could get arrested for public nudity,” River mutters, shaking his head.

“Doubtful. Those chicks across the street are staring so hard their eyeballs are about to hit the pavement any second.”

He moves in front of me to block my body. “Please let me go, Nate. I need a second to breathe on my own.”

Let him go?

Never.You’re mine.

Seeing the anguish on his face makes my stomach hurt. So, I nod, knowing this is what he needs, even though I don’t accept his rejection. Anger burns my skin and crawls through my insides like poison as he moves down the porch steps and slips into his car.

Then he’s gone, and I’m…

I can’t place the feeling.

But I don’t like it.

Come back, River.

CHAPTER12

RIVER

The blood boilsin my veins as I hit the gas pedal, flying through the deserted streets of Beacon Bay. Shifting gears, I whip around a corner, furious with myself. Every time we fuck Samantha, I fall deeper for Nate.

Why do I keep putting myself in the position to get hurt? While this feeling is not new, it grows stronger every second.

I still remember the day we met at Remington Academy and would give anything to return to those days before our lives got so complicated.

My legs shook as I entered our shared bedroom. Nate rose from his bed, a mess of blond hair brushing his tanned forehead, cheeks flushed. I noticed his height first. He towered over me, looking much older than twelve. If my dad hadn’t told me we were the same age, I would have assumed Nate was almost out of high school.

He wore a black suit jacket with the school’s logo on the breast pocket and matching slacks. Standing tall for his age, hands on his narrow waist, Nate reminded me of a politician, not a boy.

He grinned like he was good at keeping secrets, eying up every detail of my face. “Do you like to hunt?”

I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure how to answer, so I just stared.

“Well, do you?” Nate said with a thick Texan drawl, his big, brown eyes widening on me.

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Never tried it.”

Nate put his hand on my shoulder and steered me to his side of the room. He nodded at the target practice poster on the wall above his bed. Red dots marked the center of the man’s chest and head, both ripped to shreds by bullets.

“You’re either the hunter or the hunted. Which one are you?”

At the time, I was thrown off by his question. Now, I would give anything for Nate to turn his hunter instincts on me.

Some nights, I imagine him pinning me to a wall. Or bent over his bed. My favorite fantasies are of us in the locker room shower. However, I would take Nate anywhere I could have him.

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