“Rorie, just be honest with yourself for once. You’re into him. And I don’t mean just the sexual kind.”
“I don’t evenknowhim.”
Jeremy points at me. He’s caught me in a trap. “Andthatis the stupidest excuse I’ve ever heard. Because you do. You talk to himevery single day. He knows more about you than half the people in your life. So tell me why you don’t cut all the bullshit?”
I open my mouth to argue. Shut it. Try again. Nothing.
Jeremy smirks knowingly. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“It’s complicated,” I grumble, avoiding looking at him.
“It’s only complicated because you’re making it that way,” he counters. “You deserve to be happy, Rorie. And whateverthisis, it’s clearly doing something good for you. So put all the stupid complications aside, stop playing games, and just tell him the truth.”
My heart twists at his words, at how damnsimplehe makes it sound.
But it’s not simple. It’s notjusta crush. It’s notjustsome flirty texting game. It’s a secret. A betrayal. A tangled mess of something that never should’ve started, yet I don’t want to stop.
And Nolan has had enough of those in his life.
Secrets. Lies. People playing games with him like he’s a piece on their board.
“Look, Nolan has been through some things,” I tell Jeremy. “I don’t know the full extent of what he’s been through, but I know enough to realize that if he ever found out who I really am, if he ever figured out that the person he’s been confiding in—the one he callsTextually Frustrated—is the same woman he’s been trying so damn hard to resist in real life…and I didn’t tell him outright…He’d never forgive me.”
That should be my wake-up call. That should be the reason to make me shut this down, to stop this before it blows up in my face.
“And I don’t want to lose the way he makes me feel when we text—with him I’m more than my work, more than my ambition, more than the competitor standing in his way. WithCarl, I’m just… Rorie. And I don’t know how to walk away from that.”
“Soooo, tell him outright.”
I stare back at Jeremy. So young yet so wise. “You know, for someone who claims to have no romantic bone in his body, you sure sound like you’re made entirely of them.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve got enoughboneto share with the whole island.” He winks. “Now, are you gonna text him back, or do I need to pry thatphone out of your emotionally repressed little hands and do it myself?”
“Dinner is served!”
Saved by the bell. Or more accurately, saved by Shelby Davidson.
The evening air is brimming with salt and spice, the scent of grilled seafood mixing with the slow burn of rum in my glass. The long banquet table is set beneath a canopy of string lights, their glow reflecting off the dark water beyond the cliffs. It’s elegantly rustic with white linen runners, scattered tropical flowers, and candles flickering in glass lanterns.
Servers weave through the crowd, balancing trays of bright cocktails and plates of food so artfully arranged it feels wrong to eat them.
I slide into a chair between Jeremy and Laurel, tryingveryhard not to glance at Nolan“Your Real Name Is Carl”Rhodes, who’s chatting with Rishi and Thatcher. He’s been mentally terrorizing me all day.
His laugh carries down the table, low and easy.
Don’t look. Don’t look.
…I look.
Damn it.
Jeremy elbows me under the table, grinning. “Subtle.”
“I wasn’t looking.”
Jeremy snorts into his drink. ““Rorie, babe, you just stared at Nolan so hard, I thought your eyeballs were gonna roll right out of your head and land in his lap then suck him off.”
Laurel, who’s been quietly sipping her wine and pretending not to eavesdrop, lifts a brow. “Should I be concerned that we’re talking about sucking off our direct competition in such… vivid detail?”
