Chapter 9
Things are changing. Starting now.
Miles
I whistle as I enter Hazel’s physical therapy practice. I’ve been looking forward to seeing Hazel since our last session. Although, I could do without the torture.
“Hello!” I call out when Hazel doesn’t appear. I know she’s not treating another patient since all the doors are open.
“Come on in,” she hollers from the treatment room.
I frown. No sarcastic response? I make my way into the room.
“Good morning, Bl—.” I clear my throat. “Hazel.”
She smiles, but her green eyes don’t sparkle.
“What’s wrong?”
She motions to the treatment table. “Hop on. We’ll start with some stretching exercises to combat stiffness and improve flexibility.”
I don’t move. “No.”
Her brow wrinkles. “Sorry, Miles. I know you’re in a hurry to get back on your surfboard, but I don’t think you’re ready for pendulum swings or pulley-assisted stretches yet.”
“I’m not in a hurry.”
“You’re not?”
“Nope.”
Because the longer I’m injured, the more time I can spend with Hazel.
“Okay.” She pats the treatment table. “Let’s get to work on those stretches then.”
“No.”
“I am not in the mood for your riddles today, Miles.”
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“You’re always in the mood for my riddles. What’s going on?”
“I’m fine and it’s none of your business.”
“You’re not fine, and we’re not starting therapy until you tell me what’s wrong.”
She fists her hands on her hips. Finally, she’s showing a bit of life. “Did you forget the part about it being none of your business?”
“Wrong.”
“Miles.” She growls. “We aren’t together anymore. We’re not even friends. My life is not your business.”
“We are friends,” I grit out. “Something’s wrong with you and I’m not letting you put your hands on my injured shoulder when you’re obviously upset.”
“I’m not upset.”
“And you don’t have that little wrinkle on your forehead you always get when you’re upset.”
She slaps her forehead. “I don’t get a wrinkle on my forehead when I’m upset.”
“Yes, you do.” I step closer until I’m crowding her. This room is small and she has nowhere to go. “When Scarlett moved off the island, you got the wrinkle. When Ian fell off the tractor and broke his leg and arm, you got the wrinkle. When—”
She holds up a hand. “Stop. I don’t need a history lesson on all the times I’ve been upset in my life.”
I grasp her hand. Electricity tingles where our skin touches but I ignore it. This moment isn’t about us. It’s about Hazel. No matter what she may think of me, I will never allow her to suffer. Not if I can help it.
“How can I help?”
“Help? You want to help me?”
“Of course. I care about you.” I massage my thumb into her wrist. Her eyes darken until they’re nearly emerald. It’s the same color they turn when I bury myself deep inside her. My cock twitches at the reminder.
She yanks her hand away. “You don’t care about me. I’m your past and you’re feeling nostalgic is all.”
I’m not arguing with her about whether I care about her or not. I know how I feel.
“Are we doing this therapy session or not?”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’re like a dog with a bone.”
“Woof! Woof!”
She drops her chin to her chest, but not before I notice her smile.
“Fine. We had a Sunday family meal at the farmhouse yesterday, and Dad got all over my case for working at the restaurant, and now I have to find a job and move off the island.”
My heart lodges in my throat. Off the island? She’s moving? She’s abandoning me? Not if I can help it.
“Slow down. Explain yourself. Your dad got all over your case?”
She scowls. “You know what he thinks of women. They should stay in the kitchen. And get married to a farmer.”
“I thought he eased up after the Christmas before last when Scarlett nearly left Weston because she didn’t want to live on Smuggler’s Hideaway.”
Her eyes narrow on me. “How do you know what happened with Scarlett and my dad?”
I shrug. “You grew up on this island. You know how everyone loves to gossip.”
“Whatever,” she grumbles. “Dad eased up on Scarlett, but he hasn’t eased up on me. He thinks I should get married and that my therapy degree was a waste of time.”
“Your therapy degree wasn’t a waste of time. You help people to heal. It’s important.”
“That’s what I said.”
“And?”
“And then I got mad he didn’t acknowledge how important my work is and told everyone I was looking for a job off the island.”
Relief fills me. She’s not going anywhere. She spoke out in anger.
“And now I have to find a job on the mainland.”
“No, you don’t. The argument with your dad will be forgotten by the next time you see him.”
Hazel and her dad were always arguing in high school.
I witnessed several of their shouting matches in the farmhouse.
No matter how loud they shouted at each other, her dad never let her down.
He showed up at every single one of her basketball matches.
He picked her up from parties when she’d had too much moonshine to drink.
I would have loved to have him as a dad.
My dad abandoned our family when I was twelve.
I never felt his loss, though. Eli and Rhett stepped up.
Eli worked multiple jobs to help Mom out financially while Rhett took us to school and all of our sports activities and made sure we finished our homework.
“It doesn’t matter what Dad thinks. It’s time for me to leave.”
My heart stutters in my chest. She can’t leave. I won’t let her. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why is it time for you to leave? You love this island.”
“Love it or not, I don’t have enough work for my practice. And I’m tired of working at the restaurant.”
“There are other jobs you can do on the side.”
“I don’t want to do side gigs. I want to work full-time in the career I spent six years of my life studying for. I want to help people. I don’t want to serve drinks to tourists or work at the amusement park or any of the other tourist traps.”
Shit. She’s thought this through. This isn’t a spur of the moment decision.
“You’re serious? You’d move away from Smuggler’s Hideaway?”
“I prefer not to. I’ll research if any of the towns on the Mainland within an hour’s drive have any openings first. But if not…” She trails off with a shrug.
“I never thought you’d leave the island.”
“Never say never,” she sings before motioning to the table. “You figured out what’s bugging me. No more excuses.”
I whip off my shirt before laying on the table. “Have you started your job search yet?”
“I’ve done some searching online. I found an interesting position about two hours away. Two hours is too far to commute, so I’d have to move.”
She can’t move. I can’t let her go. I always thought Hazel would be here waiting for me. But she’s not waiting. She’s moving on with her life.
It’s me who’s been waiting. I’ve been waiting to be ready to settle down. To untangle the mess in my head. To figure out where I belong.
I still don’t know where I belong but I know one thing with absolute certainty. I can’t let Hazel move away. I need to win her back. I need to convince her I’m worthy of a second chance.
Because I’ve always loved this woman. I’ve just been too chicken shit to try and win her back. Too worried she’d make a fool out of me.
I’m done caring about how foolish I’ll look. Or how much she’ll make me work for a second chance.
Hazel is mine and I won’t stop until she realizes the truth. We belong together.