Smooth jazz played quietly as we entered the main building. It was impeccably clean and decorated for the grand opening in a few days. A balloon arch of metallic tones framed the walkway, which was clad with a red carpet. What were we, celebrities?
Oh my God. Maybe some celebrities would be attending. I craned my neck around the corner, hoping to catch a glimpse of Brad Pitt, but there was only a group of people on their phones. Influencers. Noah would probably ditch me in a few minutes to go hang out with his kind.
A tall blonde woman dressed in all black greeted us by thereception. “Good evening and welcome to Opal Serenity! Can I have your names for check-in, please?”
“Macey Monroe,” said Noah. “And I’m Noah Hansley.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Macey and Noah. We’re so excited to host you this weekend.” She handed us a few slips of paper to fill out and sign. It was a list of commitments and terms we’d agreed to already via email.
“My name is Jennifer. I’m on the public relations team heading the grand opening.” She stapled both of our papers together and flashed a smile. “Feel free to contact me if you need anything this weekend.”
She passed a business card across the counter, which Noah pocketed.
After clicking on the keyboard for a few seconds, she pulled out a set of key cards. “You can check into your suite now.”
Suite?
As in…singular?
“Suites,” I clarified, waiting to see her reaction. Next to me, Noah tensed.
“Yes, suite.” Jennifer smiled, blissfully unaware that she was gift-wrapping another problem for me with a bow. As if my missing luggage wasn’t enough, the universe decided to double down on our fake dating disaster. Apparently, misery came with a complimentary side of a singular suite. “It does have a living room and bedroom, though.”
I glanced at Noah, hoping he’d pitch in as well, but he was looking as frozen as he did on the bench the other day. I was on my own here. “Is there any chance of a second suite?”
She blinked a few times, seeming confused. “My apologies, ma’am, we assumed that you and your boyfriend would want to stay together.”
Yep, that confirmed it. I was going to have to share a room with Noah for three days. What if he snored like my father didon our family vacations? Or, worse, what if he didn’t snore at all, and I had to suffer through the awareness of his presence in silent darkness?
My face must have looked unhinged because panic flashed across Jennifer’s eyes. She practically dove into the safety of her computer screen, probably praying I’d vanish like a pop-up ad. “I would offer a second suite, but I’m afraid all of our rooms are booked for the press event. Is that a problem?”
Before I could respond, Noah slung an arm over my shoulders. “Not a problem at all.”
Jennifer beamed at him, her smile practically sparkling. Great. Now I looked like the selfish, diva girlfriend. She slid two matching key cards and itineraries across the counter. Normally, I’d pay close attention to the details, but it was hard to focus when Noah’s warm arm was draped around me like it belonged there.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of his forearm—the subtle flex of muscle, the way his skin seemed to glow under the lobby lights. That damn forearm. When had forearms become so hot? The heat of his thumb brushing against my shoulder sent a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, I forgot all about Jennifer and the problems she brought me.
In the elevator, I glared at Noah until he let go of me. “Not a problem?”
“I didn’t want to cause a scene.” He eyed me. “Besides, wouldn’t a couple want to sleep in the same suite? You already raised a red flag.”
Point made.
When the elevator opened on the fourth floor, we didn’t have to walk far until we reached the room.Ourroom. Frustration festered in me, on the cusp of bubbling over, and then the door swung open.
My breath caught in my throat, and all feelings of anger dissolved. For a fleeting second, I wondered if this was even real life. How was I, low-tier travel writer Macey Monroe, standing in a suite that looked like it was ripped straight out of a luxury magazine?
The polished marble floors gleamed under soft, golden light, and the scent of fresh lilies mixed with the faint tang of ocean air from the balcony. An absurdly spacious living room held a couch, two reclining chairs, and a coffee table. To the left was a dining nook with a small kitchen table set for two. On top was a vase of flowers and a variety of Opal Serenity themed swag: magnets, drinking glasses, coffee mugs, and stickers. Tucked under the vase was a tiny white envelope.
My eyes followed the wall until they stumbled upon the best part of the suite: a sliding glass door that opened to the balcony. The view overlooked the ocean, waves crashing against a large bundle of rocks.
Amazing. Flawless. Beautiful.
I was almost out of adjectives to describe this moment until one ruined them all—disaster.
Noah cleared his throat and held out the envelope, now opened.
Noah and Macey,
