Read Online Beachwood Bay 04 - Untamed Hearts by Melody Grace - Free Book Online
Authors: Melody Grace
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winning.
Then everything changed.
One night: that’s all it took for me to get a glimpse of what life could be like, and after that, it all just felt wrong. The victories didn’t taste so sweet; the gossip and rumors started to get to me. Slowly, my bad reputation felt less like a badge of pride, and more like an albatross around my neck, always dragging me down. Now I wonder what it would be like if I’d grown up normal. Unknown. Able to walk down the street without the whispers behind me, to meet some guy who hadn’t heard the rumors, the half-true legends of all my wild antics. Someone who didn’t think they had an easy shot just because of my last name.
Someone to know me, the real me.
I brush away the thought and take another swig of whiskey. This is the rejection talking, and the booze. I know, even if they got to know me, it wouldn’t mean a thing. A few weeks of playing at happiness, maybe, before they hit the road again.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that people always leave.
I sink down into one of the chairs. The whiskey is finally working its magic, warming my bones from the inside, even though it feels like I’m made of solid ice. I should go back down and help out Garrett, I know, but I can’t drag myself away just yet. The last wisps of twilight are fading, and way up here, I can pretend the ugly mess downstairs doesn’t exist. Nothing exists but me and the distant lights of the shoreline, so pretty that I can almost forget what this town is like up close.
I come here all the time. This is my secret spot, up above it all. It’s where I come to think and be alone, to spend hours just watching the bustle of the town below, letting the distant sound of the ocean wash away my pain as I daydream of some other life, some other future, far away from this town and all the memories chasing me down.
Some good those daydreams are. The years slip past, and I’m still here: hiding away up on my rooftop, while they all gossip and scorn me behind my back. I wanted so badly to prove them wrong, but all I do is live up to their low expectations.
“That was quite some scene.”
A guy’s voice comes from behind me, amused.
“Leave me the hell alone,” I snap, not turning. I’m not in the mood to deal with any more bullshit tonight—especially not from some guy who heard the whispers and figures I’m an easy score. “This is private property.”
There’s a low hum of laughter. “The Brit I knew never cared about that.”
My heart stops.
It can’t be, I tell myself. Not here, not again, after all this time.
But it is. I know the truth even before I brace myself and turn. I’d recognize that voice anywhere: the low, sexy drawl that echoes in my dreams, smooth as honey and sweet as the night we shared together, three long years ago.
Hunter Covington.
“Waste of a good plate of nachos, if you ask me.” Hunter grins at me across the rooftop, hair glinting dark gold in the setting sun. “And you always said, nothing exciting ever happens in this town.”
My heart pounds as I stare at him, disbelieving. He’s leaning in the doorway, casual as can be. A ghost, a relic, a memory I’ve clung to through dark nights and desperate days.
I never thought I’d see him again.
My legs give way beneath me, and I clutch at the back of the lawn chair for support.
“You’re here,” I breathe.
“I’m here,” he agrees, and fixes me with a crooked, heartbreaking smile.
Everything falls away.
The bar, the rejection letter, Trey—it all dissolves under Hunter’s piercing gaze. My eyes devour him hungrily. He’s older now, we both are, but somehow I’ve been carrying the picture of who he used to be. The boy he was, not the man he’s so clearly become. There’s power to his athletic body now, clear in the broad frame of his shoulders, the muscles beneath his preppy Oxford shirt. His blonde hair falls over his golden skin, blue eyes still blazing like the brightest
Then everything changed.
One night: that’s all it took for me to get a glimpse of what life could be like, and after that, it all just felt wrong. The victories didn’t taste so sweet; the gossip and rumors started to get to me. Slowly, my bad reputation felt less like a badge of pride, and more like an albatross around my neck, always dragging me down. Now I wonder what it would be like if I’d grown up normal. Unknown. Able to walk down the street without the whispers behind me, to meet some guy who hadn’t heard the rumors, the half-true legends of all my wild antics. Someone who didn’t think they had an easy shot just because of my last name.
Someone to know me, the real me.
I brush away the thought and take another swig of whiskey. This is the rejection talking, and the booze. I know, even if they got to know me, it wouldn’t mean a thing. A few weeks of playing at happiness, maybe, before they hit the road again.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life, it’s that people always leave.
I sink down into one of the chairs. The whiskey is finally working its magic, warming my bones from the inside, even though it feels like I’m made of solid ice. I should go back down and help out Garrett, I know, but I can’t drag myself away just yet. The last wisps of twilight are fading, and way up here, I can pretend the ugly mess downstairs doesn’t exist. Nothing exists but me and the distant lights of the shoreline, so pretty that I can almost forget what this town is like up close.
I come here all the time. This is my secret spot, up above it all. It’s where I come to think and be alone, to spend hours just watching the bustle of the town below, letting the distant sound of the ocean wash away my pain as I daydream of some other life, some other future, far away from this town and all the memories chasing me down.
Some good those daydreams are. The years slip past, and I’m still here: hiding away up on my rooftop, while they all gossip and scorn me behind my back. I wanted so badly to prove them wrong, but all I do is live up to their low expectations.
“That was quite some scene.”
A guy’s voice comes from behind me, amused.
“Leave me the hell alone,” I snap, not turning. I’m not in the mood to deal with any more bullshit tonight—especially not from some guy who heard the whispers and figures I’m an easy score. “This is private property.”
There’s a low hum of laughter. “The Brit I knew never cared about that.”
My heart stops.
It can’t be, I tell myself. Not here, not again, after all this time.
But it is. I know the truth even before I brace myself and turn. I’d recognize that voice anywhere: the low, sexy drawl that echoes in my dreams, smooth as honey and sweet as the night we shared together, three long years ago.
Hunter Covington.
“Waste of a good plate of nachos, if you ask me.” Hunter grins at me across the rooftop, hair glinting dark gold in the setting sun. “And you always said, nothing exciting ever happens in this town.”
My heart pounds as I stare at him, disbelieving. He’s leaning in the doorway, casual as can be. A ghost, a relic, a memory I’ve clung to through dark nights and desperate days.
I never thought I’d see him again.
My legs give way beneath me, and I clutch at the back of the lawn chair for support.
“You’re here,” I breathe.
“I’m here,” he agrees, and fixes me with a crooked, heartbreaking smile.
Everything falls away.
The bar, the rejection letter, Trey—it all dissolves under Hunter’s piercing gaze. My eyes devour him hungrily. He’s older now, we both are, but somehow I’ve been carrying the picture of who he used to be. The boy he was, not the man he’s so clearly become. There’s power to his athletic body now, clear in the broad frame of his shoulders, the muscles beneath his preppy Oxford shirt. His blonde hair falls over his golden skin, blue eyes still blazing like the brightest
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