They walked along the edge of the water, close enough the surf could swoosh over their feet, yet, far enough away it didn't require Malcolm to do more than roll his pant legs to his calves.

"This has been a great weekend," Sorcha said as she slid her fingers between his. "Help us when we find ourselves bogged down by papers, exams and projects."

"You ready to go back to school?"

"Let's say I'm more confident this year about going than I was last year."

"You weren't confident last year?"

She shook her head. "Not at all."

"Didn't seem like it."

"I'm better at hiding my anxiety." Her smile was wry. "Don't have a psychogenic tremor to give me away."

Malcolm hummed a laugh. "You have other tells."

"I do?" Intrigued, Sorcha stopped walking. "Like what?"

"You tend to fidget when you're nervous."

"Ants in the pants."

Malcolm looked at her, one brow tilted.

"What?"

Sorcha shrugged.

"That's what Dad calls it."

A small smile curved his lips. "I always think of you as being like the Stellula calliope."

"A hummingbird?" Pleasure warmed her blood at his comparing her to such a lovely bird. "You really think I'm like a hummingbird?"

"Yes." Malcolm ducked his head. As he often did when it came to anything concerning his inner thoughts and feelings. "I do."

"Mal." Because she wanted him to look at her, she cupped his chin, gently lifted it. "That's the sweetest thing anyone has said to me."

Raw, naked vulnerability shimmered in the eyes that met hers. "Really?"

"I dated the same guy all through high school and he never said anything like that to me."

"He should have."

She didn't disagree with him. Hindsight, though, was twenty-twenty. Looking back, Sorcha could see all the mistakes she made, the things she'd do over if given a second chance, and the decisions she'd change.

She couldn't live her life in reverse, though. Not when the way forward included Malcolm. He's my future. She decided that on their first day of classes. If that future included marriage or children was too early to tell. She was no more ready for those things than he was.

To the consternation of her well-meaning aunts.

"I should have ended things with Caleb before I did because it wasn't a healthy relationship."

Something they had in common.

Not that Malcolm talked much about his past relationships.

No shock there, she mused as a rocket burst overhead. He tended to dole out information in small doses, testing her reaction before giving her more. It was a defense mechanism, a way of protecting himself from either rejection or attack.

She got a pretty good idea how unhealthy his last relationship was from something Jackie told her.

"He started wearing long-sleeve shirts after he started seeing Denise."

Didn't take much to figure out why he started covering up.

Anger pulsed beneath her skin as she pictured all the bruises and cuts those sleeves concealed.

The burns and welts.

Those wounds might have healed but the scars remained. As did the traces of the cruel words said.

Nobody would abuse him again.

Not physically.

Not emotionally.

Woe betide anyone who dared.

For now, though, she focused on Malcolm.

On helping him to heal.

Finding his worth.

Showing him that he mattered.

Teaching him how to have healthy relationships with people.

Washing away the blood his father spilled and which he believes covers his hands.

"Your dad said your last boyfriend hurt you."

"Not physically, no." She ran her hands up the back of his arms, linked them behind his neck. "Other ways, yes."

A muscle tickled in his jaw. The only display of anger he allowed himself.

Because he didn't trust himself to get angry.

Because explosive bouts of rage was associated with Martin Whitly.

And Malcolm Bright rejected anything that linked him to his father.

"Hey," she said, pressing close. "Let's take a swim."

"Not wearing your bathing suit."

"I have on underwear."

A smile hovered about his mouth.

"Gil would be forced to arrest you."

"Gil," she said as she stroked the back of his neck, "is currently occupied."

Malcolm glanced back over his shoulder.

"Where did he and Jackie go?" he wondered as he looked back at her. "Do you know?"

"They went some place to remember when they were nineteen."

"You don't mean...?"

"Yes, yes, I do."

That smile turned into a grin.

"Did you and Jackie plan this while Gil and I were winning you those stuffed unicorns you just couldn't leave here without?"

"Do you mean did we plan how to get you and Gil alone with us?" Her lips curved into a small, smug smile. "Yes, yes we did."

"And you're not sorry, are you?"

"Not one damn bit."

A/N: Hello, all! Hope this finds you well!

I just want to send a special thank you to Rookblonkorules and white tiger freak for their lovely reviews