The concierge lounge is a calm oasis, as usual, and I take a moment to let the atmosphere sink in. Ambient music fills thespace while people chat quietly at tables. It’s late afternoon, so people are popping in for a happy-hour beverage after a day of fun at the pool, the casino or whatever else they’ve been up to. Llanzo is on the phone when I enter, but he shoots me a friendly smile as I make my way to the bar.
The bartender puts my wine glass in front of me and then steps away to grab the bottle for me to bring back to the room for later. I turn around to lean my back against the bar, my gaze naturally roaming. And then I freeze, my glass halfway to my mouth. Penn and Jesse are tucked away in a back booth, sitting way too close, their heads bent together in conversation.
Their bodies lean into each other, and there’s an intensity to their interaction that knots my stomach. Penn reaches out and grabs Jesse's hand, causing bile to rise in the back of my throat. I can’t hear what they’re talking about, but I don’t need to. Seeing them together tells me everything I need to know. They're completely wrapped up in their own world, and I’m just an outsider looking in. As usual.
“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath, the hand not holding my wineglass clenching into a fist.
Turning back to the bar, I shake my head, trying to dislodge the image. “Here you are.” The smiling bartender slides the bottle across the polished surface.
“Thanks.” I flash a tight smile, fighting the urge to march right up to Penn and Jesse to… what? Demand an explanation or… make a scene?
Nope. Not gonna happen. Penn doesn’t owe me one damn thing. I’m the one who suggested we make hard and fast rules to make sure our fling ends before we get home. I'm not even sure I was conscious of it at the time, but that deal wasn't only supposed to protect our friendships with the others, it was also supposed to protect me from wanting anything more with Penn. No, clearly I’m the idiot in this scenario. Because the intensityof my reaction to seeing them together like this leads me to only one conclusion: that plan isn't working at all.
It doesn't matter. It's no big deal. I reason with myself as I make my way back to the cabin. We didn’t talk about exclusivity. Penn can fuck around with whoever he wants. I have no right to be upset by him having a drink with Jesse. For god’s sake, I wouldn’t have any right to be upset even if he fucked the guy. But I can’t stop seeing the expression on his face when he reached out to take Jesse’s hand.
Once I get back to our room I'm tempted to drink the entire bottle of wine on my own, but instead I decide to take a dip in the little plunge pool on our balcony. Hopefully it will cool this heat that’s unexpectedly flaring up inside me—not anger, not exactly, but something else. Something a lot more complicated.
Swallowing grimly, I head straight for the balcony. Pouring myself a glass of wine,just the one, I tell myself, I strip off my T-shirt, but before getting into the pool, I take a long, deep pull right from the bottle, swallowing as much as I can before dragging the back of my hand across my mouth and stepping into the cool water. I set my full wineglass into one of the cup holders along the ledge before dunking my head under the surface of the water and holding my breath for as long as I can.
I’m desperate to blunt the edge of these feelings. I’m not used to feeling so out of control, and I do not fucking like it one bit. Zero out of five stars, do not recommend. I shake the water out of my hair like a dog before stepping back to the side of the pool to my glass, needing more alcohol in my system.
Not long later, a soft beep lets me know the stateroom door is opening, and Penn calls out. “Hunter, I’m back!”
He steps onto the balcony, his blond hair tousled and a little greasy-from the massage oil, I assume. Even in the dim light, his cheeks are rosy, and he’s wearing a sense of contentment like it’s a cloak. I turn away from him to where my wineglass sits on theedge, grabbing it and quickly tossing back the remainder of what was in there.
“Hey there,” he says.
I don’t turn around, just take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. My shoulders ache with tension. The alcohol hasn’t worked quite as well as I was hoping, but at least I don’t feel like I’m about to fly into a rage anymore.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, not waiting for an answer before he peels off his shirt and steps into the pool, still wearing the soft gym shorts he wore to his massage.
“Miss me?” he teases. Jesus fuck. If he knew how goddamn much I actually did miss him this afternoon, he’d probably head for the nearest lifeboat.
I just nod, not meeting his gaze.
“Hunter?” he says, a question in his voice. I’m sure he can tell something’s off with me.
“Yeah,” I answer, my voice flat.
“Okay, what’s going on? Is everything okay?” He squints at me, but I can’t force myself to meet his gaze. I’m too afraid of what I’m going to see. I don’t want to see his beautiful eyes brimming with false sincerity. It might make me doubt what I saw in the lounge, and what I saw tells me this whole thing is just a game to Penn. Why I'm surprised, I don't know, because I know he doesn't take anything seriously, so why should this be any different? I grit my teeth and shake my head. For god's sake, I have no right to be jealous, I remind myself for the hundredth time in the last hour.
“Everything’s fine.” I try to keep my tone light, but it comes out too curt, too forced.
“Hey, what’s happening with you right now?” he asks softly, taking a step closer to me. “Come on, Hunter. Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing, Penn,” I say tightly. The lie hangs heavily between us.
“Then what do you want?” he asks, and there’s a gentle vulnerability in his tone that pulls at me but, at the same time, makes me even angrier.
“This,” I say, leaning in to roughly capture his lips with mine.
The kiss is desperate, our teeth and tongues clashing. My hands roam over his wet skin, tracing the muscles I’ve come to know so well in such a short time, and his grip on my shoulders is bruising.
He groans into my mouth, and I can taste the wine he had earlier, bittersweet and intoxicating. We move together as the water sloshes around us. It’s not gentle; it’s not soft. It’s raw and desperate. All consuming.
Needing to make sure I’m not crossing any lines, I pull back from him, both of us panting.
Penn’s wide eyes search mine. He’s clearly confused about what the fuck has come over me, but there’s desire in there too. I just need to figure out how to keep my feelings out of this thing. It’s just fucking. Nothing more was ever on the table between us. I cannot lose control of my emotions and do something stupid like fall for him. I need to be one hundred percent clear on what this is.
