The closer we get to the cove, the more self-conscious I’m becoming.
Maybe the spot is only magical to me.
Maybe this star athlete will take one look at my little crescent of sand with a view of the ocean and shrug. But he’s holding my left hand as he drives, kissing my wrist, my knuckles, my palm, his eyelids heavy with lust—and somehow I know it’s going to be all right. That he’ll enjoy it as much as I do…especially because we’ll be together.
I wet my lips. “Turn here,” I say, gesturing to the winding hidden path leading down to the base of the cliff, and Gage steers his truck in that direction.
Though now, he’s sitting up straighter, his brows knitting together. “Stella, please don’t tell me you’ve been coming here by yourself.”
Who else would I come with? “Why?”
“Why?” The truck
