Meet Me in Hawaii by Georgia Toffolo (best affordable ebook reader TXT) 📗

sure. In body and in mind. Like his whole world wasn’t imploding inside, like he hadn’t crossed a line he couldn’t come back from, like they belonged together, just like this. Always.

Somewhere deep inside he knew she hadn’t promised him more. Not yet. But it would come, he had to believe it would come. And she would love him as he did her. He just had to show her how good life could be if she took that leap with him.

She had to see it – Please, let her see…

He squeezed his eyes tight against the alternative and let go. His cry, his release, so full of love that, to his ears, it married with her own. And that could only mean one thing…

Malie loved him.

She woke to the alien feeling of her limbs being entwined with another’s, all naked and hot, and… she froze.

The night flashed before her eyes: the speech, the conversation with Tara’s parents, the kiss beneath the balcony, the dance floor, the bedroom, the bed…

The bed in which they were now, the sheets tossed aside, Todd’s body spooning hers, his leg hooked over and between her own and brushing just there, her breath caught, her body pulsed. She didn’t dare wake him, didn’t dare move a muscle. Already she could feel the need stirring within her, the need that should have been well and truly slaked by the night’s repeated lovemaking – lovemaking.

Not sex, not the basic urge to have fun and be done. No. This was so much more. Just as she’d predicted, just as she’d wanted it to be and shouldn’t.

And now what?

His breath caressed her ear, his nose nuzzling in as he shifted and murmured in his sleep, his arm wrapping around her to draw her in tight. Oh, how she wanted to snuggle down too. To close her eyes and let sleep claim her once more. To not let this night be over. But the sun was already creeping in through the glass, the hint of pink and orange on the horizon all warm and comforting and a direct contrast to the messed-up state of her head.

No, not her head, her heart.

Slowly she turned, disentangling herself as she encouraged him onto his back. He was so peaceful in his sleep, younger even. There was no crease to his brow, no lines around his eyes, his full mouth relaxed into something that looked close to a smile, and his hair… she reached out, unable to stop herself and stroked his fringe from his face.

Yes, she wanted to stay, more than anything she wanted this to be her new normality but there was so much she needed to make sense of before she could let herself be with him. She’d spent her entire adult life avoiding anything close to a relationship – to suddenly change that stance now when she had so much else to sort, to address? She couldn’t do it.

It was as much about protecting him as it was herself and it was that realization that had her pulling away and climbing out of bed, finding her clothing and slipping it on before picking up her shoes. She felt like a thief stealing away into the night and guilt gnawed at her stomach, tears quick to follow. But if he were to wake up, he’d never let her go without a fight. She knew that, just as she knew she wouldn’t be strong enough to fight back, that she’d readily go running straight back into his arms, back into his bed, only to have her feelings for him mess with her head and delay the inevitable.

No, it was better this way.

She owed it to him, to herself, to get her life straightened out first.

And why can’t you do that with him by your side?

She reached the threshold of the bedroom – the doors were still open from where he’d led her through them the previous evening, the air filled with the thrum of anticipation – and she looked back to his body laid out and relaxed. Her heart ached, wanting to return, even as she knew she needed to leave. She couldn’t think clearly with him by her side, couldn’t trust her mind to make the right decisions, couldn’t trust anything with her emotions swirling like crazy within.

That’s because you love him, you fool.

You shouldn’t be leaving; you should be holding on with both hands and never letting him go.

She shook her head and clutched her shoes to her chest. She’d had good reasons to avoid relationships thus far, even if those reasons seemed blurred now.

She turned away and a tear escaped. She brushed it away with the back of her hand and kept moving, her bare feet silent on the floor as she padded across the landing and down the stairs. Her bag rested at the foot of the last step where she had left it the previous night and she stooped to pick it up before letting herself out, the door clicking softly shut behind her.

She dragged in a shaky breath, wishing her head to clear, for sanity to take over and the torrent of emotion to subside but it was no use. She made her way down to the beach to avoid the gate and the road and the people that would be there. She knew she looked a state, doing the walk of shame in her fancy dress, her hair giving away the night’s heated antics. Her cheeks warmed even as more tears fell, the cool sea breeze making the strands cling to the wet streaks. She was a mess. Inside and out. Nothing could stop the tears or the sense of emptiness swelling inside.

She took another breath but it just felt worse, nothing could fill the void. She tried to tell herself it was just a hangover from last night’s perfection, of the emotional bond they’d shared as much as the physical. But it was no use. She felt open, exposed, raw. As though with