I push myself forward, away from the destructive path that Finn seems to be insistent on, and towards the path to the ocean.
When I reach the beach, my heels sink into the damp sand, and I’m thankful that it’s low tide. My legs won’t get wet. I make it to the rocks within minutes, and just as I approach them, a shadow steps away from the boulders.
It’s tall and unexpected, because no one ever comes here.
It pauses, and I suck in a breath.
Then it steps into the moonlight and I realize who it is.
Dare.
Because he lives here now.
“Hey,” he greets me, his voice husky and soft and British. There is welcome in his eyes, and a sincere appreciation for how I look, a hungry expression, as his gaze flits over me. It makes the blood flush through my cheeks and my chest. He likes what he sees.
I swallow hard.
“Are you all right?” he asks, his head cocked and his eyes glinting in the moonlight. “I couldn’t help but notice that you ran down the mountain.”
God. I want to sink into the sand. I must look like a crazy person.
“I’m fine,” I tell him. “I just… my brother upse
t me and I needed a minute to breathe.”
“And when you’re upset you run down to the beach in the dark? Alone?” Dare cocks his head again and I’m not sure if he’s judging me. I look away.
“No. I just… my favorite place is down here. I come here a lot. Not just when I’m upset.”
“Show me.” Dare’s voice is husky and soft, and it isn’t a request. “Your favorite place, I mean.”
I don’t hesitate. I don’t know why. Maybe because he’s been in my dreams so often, it’s like I know him already.
“Ok.”
I lead him along the beach another hundred feet or so, through the rocks and into a secluded inlet. Hidden by the night, a horse-shoe shaped cove waits for us in the dark.
“Watch where you step,” I tell him, although I know it’s hard to see. “This cove is covered in tidal pools. Actually, wait here for a minute.”
I reluctantly let go of his arm and venture away to find a few pieces of smallish driftwood. I lug it back to the cove and hunt for a canvas bag that I keep here for just these occasions. It’s not under the rock I usually keep it under, so I nose around for a while longer, until Dare calls out.
“Looking for this?” he holds it up. I nod, taking it from him.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Pulling the lighter from the bag, I set the wood ablaze.
It instantly fills the inlet with an ethereal violet light.
Dare stares at it, mesmerized. “It’s purple.”
“It’s the salt from the ocean,” I explain. “It makes the flames purple and blue. But don’t breathe in the smoke. It’s gorgeous, but toxic.”
“So look, don’t breathe?” Dare looks amused.
I nod. “Exactly. Instead of breathing the smoke, why don’t you turn around and look at the cove?”
He does as I ask and I can see on his face that he’s impressed. Small pools are scattered around us, with sea life in each one, plants and shells, crabs and seaweed. Everything seems magical, as the night glows violet.
“During high tide, these are covered up. In fact, you can’t get to the back of the cove. But during low tide, the water is sucked out and you can walk right in and look at everything the water covers up.”