Page 8 of After You Returned

“Not true? You’re a liar. You’re only interested in me when you’re drunk. The rest of the time, you ignore me.”

Wrong. When I’m drunk is the only time I dare to approach her. When I’m sober, I know better than to court her wrath. Usually.

“I’m not drunk now.”

She scans the room until her gaze falls on the Raider table, which is empty of drinks since I was supposed to order them. They can get their own drinks. I’m busy here.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms over her chest and I can’t avoid dropping my gaze to her cleavage. It’s magnificent. She’s magnificent.

I reach for her and she scoots backwards. “I didn’t give you permission to touch me.”

I smirk. “You always do in the end.”

Her green eyes flare with ire before she shouts, “Get away from me, Miles Raider!”

She doesn’t wait for me to move. She runs away. And I give chase.

She plows through the crowd to the back hallway. She hurries past the ladies’ room to the storage room. Shit. She’s going for the secret exit.

“Wait!”

She glances over her shoulder. Her hair flies behind her and her cheeks are flushed from the effort. Damn. She’s beautiful. She steals my breath away.

She enters the storage room and I nearly crash into the door when she slams it shut. I try to push it open, but it doesn’t move more than an inch. She must have blocked it with crates of beer.

I pound my fist on the door. “Hazel! Let me in!”

She doesn’t answer. I hear the telltale whirling sound of the secret exit opening up. She’s getting away. I press my shoulderagainst the door and shove until the opening is big enough for me to slip through.

But I’m too late. The secret exit is wide open but there’s no sign of Hazel.

That went well.

Chapter 4

For the last time. It’s a wall rack, not a torture device.

Hazel

Ismile as I switch on the lights for my physical therapy practice. It isn’t much. A slightly wide entrance I use as a reception area, a small room with a treatment table, and a larger room propped full with all of the rehabilitation equipment I could afford.

I would love to work as a therapist full-time, but there are simply not enough clients on this small island. We get a ton of tourists in the summer but most tourists don’t need physical therapy while they’re on vacation.

I get by because I have a second job at a restaurant. But I don’t know how long I can continue to work atSmuggler’s Cove Restaurant.Every year, the waitresses get younger and more flirty with the customers. While I want to shove a fork into the eye of every man who thinks it’s okay to leer at my ass.

Stupid men. Stupid Miles. He’s the king of stupid men.

I am done with him. He doesn’t want to talk. He wants to have sex and then forget all about me the next morning. Well, no more. I am not a booty call. I deserve more. Way more than Miles Raider can ever give.

The bell over the door rings. “Hello,” a woman shouts.

I frown. My appointment isn’t with a woman.

I peek into the hallway. “What are you doing here, Maya?”

Caleb – who is a patient of mine – walks inside behind her and sighs. “Sorry, Hazel. She insisted on joining me today.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Insisted? Are you injured, Maya?”