Page 3 of After You Returned

I grab my board before making my way toward my surf shack. This is where I keep my surfboards and other equipment for giving surfing lessons. I also keep extra clothes in here.

I quickly change into warmer clothes. I grab a beer from the fridge before locking up and meandering toward the bonfire.

I scan the crowd. Almost every inhabitant from Smuggler’s Hideaway is here. Except my brothers, who bailed early on me.

Last year, we closed this bonfire down. I also had the worst hangover on New Year’s Day and nearly threw up in the ocean during the Salty Dip, but it was worth it.

Things are changing for the Raider brothers and I don’t approve at all. With five brothers, I’m not used to being alone, but alone is exactly what I am.

My gaze catches on long, red hair. Hazel. Anticipation barrels through me as my fingers tingle with the desire to touch her.

I finish my beer and throw the bottle in the trash before strolling toward her.

Maybe I don’t have to be alone this New Year’s Eve after all.

Chapter 2

Hazel – a woman who should know better but is weak when it comes to Miles

Hazel

Igroan as I try to roll over in bed, but I can’t move. A heavy weight over my stomach anchors me in place. What the hell?

I pry my eyes open and the world immediately begins to spin while my stomach heaves. I slam my eyes shut before I throw up in bed.

Swimming mermaids in the sea. How much did I drink last night?

I flip through my memories. Yesterday was New Year’s Eve. I went to the Smugglers’ Blaze with my sisters, Scarlett and Sadie. Scarlett begged off early when her boyfriend, Weston, got off duty. And Sadie made herself scarce when Miles showed up.

Miles.

I didn’t, did I? Please tell me I didn’t drink too much and end up back in his bed. I’m not that big of an idiot. Or am I?

I pry my eyes open again and glance down at the weight on my stomach. Marauding pirates, I’d know this arm anywhere.

I am that big of an idiot.

There’s obviously something wrong with me. What self-respecting woman lands in the bed of the man who dumped her years ago and is now only interested in her when he’s been drinking and is horny?

Me. That’s who.

Time to get the hell out of here before I’m forced to endure a morning after during which Miles does his best to get rid of me as fast as possible. It’s bad enough I can’t resist him but his embarrassment of me makes the situation even worse.

I grasp his arm and lift it. He fights me for a moment before rolling over to his other side. I use the opportunity to sneak out of bed. I gather my clothes from the floor before tiptoeing out of the room.

Once I’m in the hallway with the door shut behind me, I hurry to dress before rushing to the front door. I don’t have any means of transportation, but Smuggler’s Rest is a small town. It’s a mere fifteen-minute walk to my apartment from here.

This isn’t a walk of shame. Mostly because no one on the island is awake yet. It’s nine a.m. on New Year’s Day. Most of the town was at the Smugglers’ Blaze last night until the wee hours of the morning.

My stomach dips and weaves as I walk. I place a hand over it, but it does nothing to combat the nausea. At least the Salty Dip – the annual New Year’s Day swim in the ocean – doesn’t startuntil noon. I can grab a few more hours of sleep and hopefully not be too hungover when I meet my family at the beach.

I feel twenty times better after another two hours of sleep in my own bed. And a shower doesn’t hurt either. But when I try to drink some coffee, my stomach revolts. Guess I’m not completely out of the woods yet.

I dress in warm fleece clothing before grabbing a beach towel and exiting my apartment. I notice my neighbor, Melanie, waiting for the elevator and whirl around to make my way to the stairs. The last person in the world I want to question me about my activities last night is my prudish neighbor.

The beach is a mere five minutes away. I love living near the water. Of course, on an island the size of Smuggler’s Hideaway, the water is never far away.

“Hazel!” Sadie shouts before rushing toward me. “You made it.”