Page 99 of Slap Shot Scandal
Hurricane: Yes
Heart hammering, I text back.
Weston: Can I see you?
Hurricane: Like Facetime?
Weston: I was thinking more like beach walk
Probably a violation of rule #1, but right now I don’t care. I want to be with her.
Hurricane: You think anyone will spot us?
Weston: I’m not too worried about the sea turtles turning us in. It’s 10 PM. Beach will be empty
Hurricane: I’m in
Weston: I’ll meet you at the dunes behind the Inn
Hopping out of bed, I pull on a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt. Then I tiptoe down the stairs, carefully avoiding the living room where Bennett’s shouting obscenities atCall of Duty.Headphones on, he’s fully immersed in battle. I’m sure he doesn’t notice me sneak out, and Callum’s been in his room since eight.
I duck out through the side door of the garage. Notwanting to risk being spotted in the Porsche, I jog down the pathway to the beach and walk along the shoreline toward the hotel. The moon’s full, silver slashes of light slanting across the white sand beach. I inhale the salty air, the humidity wrapping around me.
I’m closing in on the Driftwood Inn, the soft, golden glow of the hotel spilling into the night. Just beyond the dunes, I lean on the railing and wait for Harbor, the waves crashing on the shore. The sound’s rhythmic, peaceful, and I’m instantly more relaxed.
I could get used to this.
Back in Manhattan, I rarely left my apartment at night. Too loud, too crowded. Paparazzi hung out on every corner, waiting to catch you doing something, anything. Even a trip to the bodega for a protein shake was an opportunity to get snapped.
I don’t miss that at all. For the most part, the locals are friendly and welcoming. Excited we’re in town, but they leave us alone and respect our privacy.
Driftwood Cove could actually work out, assuming we have a good season. Only time will tell there.
I’m surprised I haven’t hated it more.
Might have something to do with the woman on the boardwalk.
Harbor’s walking toward me, her hair loose and blowing behind her in the gentle breeze. The dimmed lobby lights of the Inn illuminate her curves, her bright smile when she spots me at the dunes.
I’m never getting over this girl.
This is more—so much more—than sex or lust. We have a connection. The kind that’s so powerful, so special it takes your breath away.
The kind worth fighting for.
“Hey, handsome.” Her voice is soft, floating on the wind to me.
“Hey.”
Grabbing her hand, I pull her behind the grassy dunes and press my mouth to hers. Soft, warm, receptive. She tastes like forever. I wrap my arms around her, resting my hands on her perfect peach of an ass.
“I missed you,” I murmur and she giggles, the sound sweet and tinkly.
“Me too. I’m glad you called. I couldn’t sleep.”
I tip back, gazing down at her. “Why?”
“Too keyed up from today. Sometimes when an event’s really big or stressful, it takes me a minute to decompress, you know?”
