Page 50 of Princess of Hawthorne Prep

My guess is that I’ve surprised her.

I’ve always been quiet, more comfortable lurking in the background, watching life unfold from a safe distance. That’s no longer possible. If I’ve learned anything over the past couple weeks, it’s that I need to stand up for myself, otherwise these people will chew me up and spit me out.

Honestly…it feels good to give voice to the thoughts swirling through my brain and not keep everything bottled up inside where it can silently fester.

When she remains quiet, I take that as my cue to leave. Nothing between us has been solved, but it feels like a small victory on my part. I could have allowed Summer to voice her opinion without saying a word, and I didn’t.

It’s a relief when the glass sliding door slams shut behind me. For just a moment, I squeeze my eyes tightly closed and inhale a breath of fresh air, holding it captive before gradually releasing it. As I stand motionless, allowing the chilly breeze to slide over my cheeks, I realize my body is shaking.

My fingers wrap around the banister as I jog down the wooden steps before making my way across the dunes to the shoreline. As I reach the water, my conversation with Summer gets shoved to the back of my mind as excitement grows inside me and I raise the camera to my face, snapping a few photos of the water along with the stretch of empty beach. I lift my face to the sky as the warmth of the sun pours over me and spot a few seagulls circling lazily overhead.

Contentment like I haven’t experienced in a long time suffuses every cell of my being as I walk along the hard-packed sand, careful to avoid the waves that lap at the shore. After passing a few sprawling mansions, I drop into a squat and pick up a small clam shell before wiping off the tiny grains of sand that cling to the smooth exterior and slip it into my pocket for safekeeping.

This moment has made the entire weekend worth it.

Everything loosens within me as I take about a hundred different shots of the lake, houses, trees, the dunes with their tall tan and green grasses that wave gently in the breeze.

This place is pure magic.

There’s something about the sand, water, and sun that soothes everything raw and chafed inside until it’s almost possible to forget about all the hurt that’s been inflicted. I want to bottle up this feeling and keep it with me long after I leave the beach.

As I stare through the viewfinder, a shape takes form in the distance, and I realize that it’s a person. I press the shutter trigger a few times in quick succession as the guy continues to jog toward me. My heart stutters a painful beat when I realize it’s Austin. Even though the temperature hovers in the mid-sixties, he’s wearing a black tank that shows off the bulging muscles of his biceps. It’s enough to make my mouth turn cottony and my pulse hitch.

I stand rooted in place and continue snapping shots. Already, I know that when I return home, I’ll pour over the photographs. Physically speaking, Austin Hawthorne is a perfect specimen. More god than man. The closer he gets, the harder my heart slams against my ribcage as memories from last night circle through my head.

The pleasure at his touch along with the hurt that sliced through me when he pulled away, walking out of the room without so much as a backward glance. His gaze stays locked on mine as his pace slows before he eventually comes to a halt a few feet away.

His cheeks are pinkened from his exertions and his breath is labored. “You’re up early.”

I squint and shield my eyes from the rising sun that pours down on him. “You, too.”

With a shrug, he glances over the water. “Couldn’t sleep.”

I press my lips together, refusing to ask where he spent the night and if it was alone.

“I wanted to take some pictures before the sun got too high.” I sweep my hand toward the lake. “It’s gorgeous.”

Instead of following the gesture, his eyes stay locked on mine. “It is.”

Our conversation stalls and I shift beneath his penetrating gaze. Even though the answer is obvious, I hear myself ask, “You’re out for a run?”

“Yeah. I needed to clear my head and it always helps.”

“How far did you go?”

He glances at the black sports watch wrapped around his wrist. “About three miles. I made it to the lighthouse before deciding to turn back.”

“I was thinking about checking it out and taking some pictures. I’ve never seen one up close.”

“It’s pretty cool.”

After last night, it’s obvious that we’re both tap dancing around each other. It’s as if there’s a magnetic force pulling us together. Does he feel it too or is it all one sided?

I wish I knew.

Almost desperately, I want to clear the air so we can put the past behind us and move forward. I want him to hear me out and realize once and for all that his accusations are unfounded. My tongue darts out to moisten my wind-chapped lips as I gather my courage.

It’s now or never.

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