This is going to be a juggle, but I can’t make a fool of myself again with Tristan. I’ve been made enough of an idiot by men in my life, and Tristan can go fuck himself. As will I. My vibrator sits neatly in that handy suitcase compartment with its charger. This girl has herself sorted.
I run my thumb along the band of the ring, reminding myself that I will get used to it being there. This ring is the key to making everything here work—nothing more, nothing less. Maybe it’s good that I can’t get it off. It will keep me focused. I take a deep breath and feel the ground beneath me grow more solid. I can do this.
Chapter Thirteen
TRISTAN
As Lexi comes in from the bathroom, I try not to ogle her. In Miami, she was always in shorts and some nondescript T-shirt. Now she’s wearing a yellow dress with pink hibiscus flowers, thin straps, a cupped bra top that gives her hot-as-all-fuck cleavage, and a fitted middle I want to squeeze so badly. And it’s short. It’s perfect for an island like this.
Jesus Christ.I’m in trouble. “Good shower?”
“Better than Heathrow.” She comes to a standstill in the middle of the room with her arms folded over her chest. That move presses her breasts up more, and if I didn’t know better, I’d thinkbabeswas being a cocktease.
I look away. “Thank God. There’s hope.” This has the potential to get crazy awkward. At Evan’s place, we each had our own room and navigated the shared living areas like civil roommates when we bumped into each other. There’s going to be none of that space here. I point to the coffee table where her gin and tonic is sweating. “Your drink.”
“Thanks.”
I’m still unpacking my things but have scouted for electrical sockets and a place to set up shop. There’s a small writing desk in the room, but clearly this isn’t an office space.
Problem is, I don’t want to set this up anywhere else on the island as I’ll be working on this project on the side. Nobody at Beaumont knows, and I think I should keep it that way. The project is the primary reason I’m here, not the dive center and keeping guests happy. Not being upfront with Beaumont isn’t how I like to operate, but it’s too late now. In my enthusiasm, I also failed to consider the legal ramifications of filming at Ne’emba. It’s tricky, what with Beaumont having the only diving rights. Thing is, it’s underwater footage, and nobody’s going to know.
At minimum I should have run it past someone, but this whole shebang happened so quickly, it had spun out of control before I realized what I’d signed up for.Now I need to deal,as Lexi would say. Zero options. The only honest thing I can do to keep my integrity intact is look out for Lexi and make sure she gets what she needs out of our time here.
“We could move the kitchenette.” Lexi takes a sip of her drink. “I can’t see us using it much, and there’d probably be enough space for your computer.”
I stand from where I’ve crouched as I stacked my things in a line along the floor. At least the cornstarch exploded only in one side pocket. It helps with the process of getting into a wetsuit. Now a fine dusting patterns the floor, though I’ve mostly wiped it away. “Everything’s made it in one piece.”
“Good.” She walks around the room, taking in the space.
It’s very different from the luxury places I’ve been to with my dad or mom. Some seaside resorts are so disconnected from their surroundings, you might as well have stayed in a high-rise hotel on Times Square. Here every detail whispersisland life. The interior and exterior sofas—sleeping option A and B,respectively—are in sandy creams, but littered with brightly colored throw pillows for a very African feel. The splashes of color are playful and unpretentious. The mosquito netting around the bed gives the room a romantic vibe without even trying. It’s a perfect home for an engaged couple thoroughly in love.
“I’m going to check out the beach,” Lexi says as she puts down her drink. She’s barely had two sips. “Maybe you should wait and see before you set up your office? There could be other desk options available that the hotel isn’t using. There might be a separate office you can use?—”
“Yep. You’re probably right.” I drag my fingers through my hair.
“I’ll give you space,” Lexi says, and before I can stop her, she’s disappearing down the path that leads to the beach.
I exhale and roll my shoulders. Shower time. And I’m not going to care about wasting the fresh water. Lexi has, after all, had her turn.
We’ve had two days of traveling in close quarters, and I need to get her out of my system while she’s out of the house. Lexi has always been under my skin, in thatcan’t-touch-thisway that comes with being my best friend’s younger sister.
Problem is, when we did cross that line five years ago, she’d wedged a part of her under my heart. Fuck, it hurt. Still does, like that thumbnail that you banged in the door, still pulsing pain hours later. Now it’s as if my whole being has become that bruise, conscious of her every move.
I’m going to have to get a grip. Three months. It’sonlyfor three months. What with the shit ton of work I have to do, steering clear of her should be a breeze.
When Lexi is still not back an hour later, I push down my annoyance. I’m worried about her. Who knows why, because where’s she going to go? But it turns out not having her attachedto my hip in a strange place gives me a weird churning in my stomach. I’m dressed in chino shorts and a white button-down with rolled-up sleeves. I don’t bother with shoes and head out to where she disappeared toward the sea.
As the path opens to the beach, I pause. It’s breathtaking. The sun is dipping low, and with the clouds packed together on the horizon, the sunset is phenomenal. Orange and pink hues beam down on the sea, scattering a reflection of shimmering gold on the water. The wind has picked up, sweeping the afternoon’s tropical heat away with it. It’s the perfect time to be out on the beach.
I spot Lexi where she’s settled on the sand some distance away, her hair now dry and dancing in the breeze. I cross the wide stretch of sand. “Hey.”
She looks up with a soft smile. “Hey.”
“How’re you feeling?”
“I’m exhausted.” She looks to the ocean again. “Can’t get enough of this view, though. If we get fired tomorrow, it will have been worth it.”
“It’s spectacular.” I sit down next to her. “And nobody’s getting fired.”
