Twisted Magic (Book 2 of the Ink Series)

Fresh air

As I got closer, I didn't know what I would even say. I didn't know if they would accept my apology, or if they even thought I had anything to apologize for, or maybe they would think I was nuts. Normal people didn't see a rolling log and think anything other than it was a rolling log.

It hit me, as soon as I was standing in front of them. They stopped chucking stones at the water and zoned in on me. I held my hair in place. The wind was picking up speed and thrashing my hair in every direction. I couldn't apologize for the log. They would think I was nuts.

"Hello," the dark-haired one said, his gray eyes twinkled against the moonlight. I was thankful he was nice.

"Hi," I said, my voice coming out in a whisper.

This ignited the three tall guys into big grins, was it funny I was nervous? It seemed that way.

"Quite the bonfire over there," the dark-haired one said.

I nodded. "Yes, it is, uh, I just wanted to come over...and...Uh introduce myself and apologize if my friends were rude at all to you." There, that was decent enough I thought to myself.

The blonde one came forward, he was the tallest out of the bunch. And now he was staring me down.

"That's quite polite of you to apologize for a whole mess of people," he said, his accent odd. I raised an eyebrow, trying to figure it out. British, he sounded British.

He raised one back, studying my expression, his eyes holding my gaze. An impish smirk gracing his lips as we locked eyes.

"It's the right thing to do," I told him. "So, that's all. I just wanted to make sure nobody was offended." I turned away and cringed. God, I sounded like such a moron. I was apologizing for something they would never understand. I shook my head hurrying over the sand for the boardwalk. I needed to get home and put this day to bed—and myself.

"Leaving so soon," He called after me. He was on my heels, his friends left behind to fend for themselves. I lifted a leg to get over the braided rope that separated the beach from the boardwalk.

"Yeah, time to get home," I told him.

"That's not so polite. You didn't even tell me your name."

I looked at the ground. This guy made me nervous. I wasn't sure in what way yet. I pushed my hair behind my ear, and looked him over. He slipped over the rope with little effort.

I liked the way his hair curled around his ears. And the silly grin when he spoke to me. He was amused, maybe by me, but it was still refreshing to see someone smile.

"Hope," I said.

He smiled bigger. "Beautiful name." His fingers grazed his five o'clock shadow as he studied me.

"Thanks, do you have one?"

"A beautiful name?" He raised an eyebrow, oh how he loved toying with me. I felt like a small creature under a giant oak tree. Never did I feel so delicate and petite than at that moment.

"Or a name," I offered, giving a shrug of my shoulders.

He extended a hand. I accepted his handshake. The moonlight caught the glint of the metal of his ring on his hand, a metal band with a black stone.

"Hutch."

Before I could question him, he pressed a single finger against my lips quieting my concern. "I understand it's an odd name. I swear it's real, and I also assure you it's mine."

I nodded, pulling away from his finger. I looked past him at the bonfire.

"That's your boyfriend and friends over there?"

I shook my head.

"And yet you're going home?"

I opened my mouth trying to produce some kind of answer, "It's been a long day."

He nodded. No matter my answer he would have nodded. "Nice to meet you, Hope, get home safe." He winked.

I turned to leave, but something tugged me back. "Your new here?"

He spun back around in the sand. "Indeed."

"And your accent, is that British?" I tilted my head to the side, trying to figure him out.

"That it is, thanks to my father, seems a bit of his upbringing rubbed off on me." He waved. I watched him walk away. He was a different kind of guy. Nice clothes, charming smile, proper even, and with a name I never heard before. Hutch.