Chapter 2

I say goodbye to the girls at the house and step toward the little lane. Glancing back at the road, I let myself wave to Matthew. He has stopped a short distance away too and is waiting until I reach the cottage, and at the sight of the motorcyclist in the black jacket, my heart beats like crazy!

He’s smiling; I can feel it. But it’s late, and I need to go back inside. The deal with my parents was that I’d be home before midnight, and it’s already a little past that.

I slip the heels off my feet and walk barefoot along the paved path. I go backward toward the house, still not taking my eyes off him. Only at the doors do I turn around, swinging my hair…

“Hi, Ashley. You’re back? So, how was the party?”

Dad and Patricia are in the living room. They’re sitting on the big couch watching the late news, as always talking quietly about something. But when I appear, they fall silent and turn down the TV.

“Good!”

“That’s all?” Dad sounds surprised by my short answer, but right now all I can do is smile like an idiot, so when I come closer to my parents, I shrug:

“The party was really great!”

“Did you see Catherine? She should be back by now too.”

“I saw her. She was with Sean and his friends.”

“Oh, Ashley…” my stepmother exhales anxiously, setting aside the work papers she usually stays up late with, but I hurry to reassure her.

“I don’t care anymore, Pat! Sean’s been in the past for a long time. Can I go? I love you!” I kiss both my parents on the cheek and, spinning through the room, head for the stairs.

“Hmm. Is it just me, Brian, or has your daughter fallen in love?”

“I can hear everything!”

“Sounds like it,” comes the serious answer behind my back, but I have absolutely nothing to say to that.

There are so many different thoughts in my head right now that I try to grab on to the most important one so I don’t keep dancing as I run up the stairs—I need to sleep!

***

Except sleep doesn’t happen. My cheeks are burning, my ears, my lips… and my heart is still pounding. I showered ages ago, washed off my makeup, and even dried my hair. Put on pajamas and climbed under the blanket… And Matthew is still standing in front of my eyes.

Matthew… Matthew… Matthew…

What a night! I don’t know if there will ever be another one like it in my life, but I’ll remember this one forever!

For a long time I lie awake, the blanket thrown aside, staring at the ceiling. Smiling and feeling happy. No, I can’t sleep—not tonight, not now, when every thought in my head is about the astonishing Palmer.

But what if I wake up in the morning and everything is the way it was before?

Then I don’t want that morning. Let this unbelievable night last as long as it possibly can.

When an incoming message lands in my messenger, I sit up in bed at once and grab my phone.

“Asleep?.. Miss Smile, don’t answer. On a dark night like this, all good girls should be sleeping. Dawn’s coming soon, and I can’t stop thinking about you…”

“Hi) No, I’m not asleep. I can’t stop either)”

“Ashley, can you sneak out of the house? I want to show you a place”

“I think so”

“Just dress warm. If you freeze, I’ll never forgive myself”

“When should I come out?”

“Now. I’m already here”

Freeze? Everything inside me is on fire and won’t cool down anytime soon!

I jump out of bed, turn on the light, and get ready quickly. I pull on a T-shirt, a hooded sweatshirt, sweatpants, and sneakers. There’s no time to fuss with my hair, so I simply tie it in a low ponytail and toss it down my back. Seeing myself in the mirror, I press my palms to my cheeks—they’re burning, and it would be nice to cool them with cold water, but Matthew is waiting for me, and in the end I give up.

Kate came home from the party not long after me. I heard her annoyed voice downstairs, but it’s half past four in the morning now, and I want to believe everyone in the house is sound asleep. Dad too, firmly convinced that his daughter is home.

I go downstairs, creep through the dark hall, and slip quietly outside. I walk along the little lane to the road and see him at once—the youngest Palmer.

The black motorcycle stands at the roadside like a shadow, and he doesn’t move the entire time I’m coming toward him.

“Hi, Matthew!”

“Hi, midnight beauty.”

Every time we meet, we look at each other. Right now I can barely make out our faces, but there is still a second that connects us again.

Matthew has another helmet in his hand. He holds it out to me and shifts forward on the seat.

“Get on. Can you manage?”

“Yes!”

I sit behind him and wrap my arms around him beneath his chest. I ask softly, feeling how good it is to hold him like this.

“Where are we going?”

And again I know he’s smiling, though I can’t see his face.

“You’ll never guess!”

“Maybe I like surprises.”

“Then, Ash, we’d better get out of here fast before your father wakes up and unloads a shotgun into my ass! Not sure I picked the best time to kidnap you. Hold on!”

Everyone around us is asleep as we tear down the hill. I suspect Matthew himself is used to pushing his black Kawasaki even faster—to the limit—but he doesn’t risk it with me. Still, on the highway he picks up enough speed for me to feel the wind on my face and hold him tighter.

Last night has not been forgotten, and being close to him makes my head spin. We rush through town and down toward the coast. Then climb back up to the road bordering the woods. I don’t immediately recognize the place he has brought me to. Only when we stop in a wide clearing and the Kawasaki’s engine falls silent do I suddenly understand.

Surprise is hard to hide, and so are emotions. Getting off the motorcycle, I take off the helmet and look around.

“Wait, Matthew. But this is… the Bluff?!” Turning to my kidnapper, I breathe out in amazement. “And this really is a surprise!”

He gets off the motorcycle too and props it on the stand. He takes off his helmet, runs a hand through his hair, and leaves it on the handlebars together with mine. Coming closer, he finds my fingers.

“Yes, it’s the Bluff, Ash. But don’t be afraid. You’re here with me.”

“I’m not afraid,” I answer, and it’s true. Otherwise I would tell him.

“This place can be beautiful if you let it be itself. Too bad almost no one sees the real Bluff. Come on!”

I hear the calm rumble of the ocean and its salty breath. But beyond those sounds, it’s so quiet here, as if no human foot has ever stepped in this place.

Matthew takes my hand and draws me after him, and I carefully step around the spots that tell a different story, the ones where someone was not so long ago.

We come almost to the very edge of the rocky Bluff, hundreds of years old, its surface long since worn down by wind and sown by birds with sparse grass. And Palmer draws me to him. Turning me toward the ocean, he presses me to his chest and holds me with certainty.

Once, the first thing I felt when I arrived in Sandfield Rock was the wet breath of the ocean breeze. And now I feel it again—the smell of salt, ozone, foaming surf, and that special, one-of-a-kind freshness you feel when you step barefoot onto wet sand. It touches my nostrils, enters my lungs, and I breathe it in deeper, meeting the huge bowl of ocean spread beneath us with an unblinking gaze.