Fool me once, shame on him. Fool me twice…
Miranda looks satisfied and moves on.
Thank God.
The debrief wraps a few minutes later. The others scatter toward their own suites, the night air thick with humidity and unspoken drama.
“I’m calling it,” I announce, pushing to my feet. “I’m exhausted.”
I need to crawl into the suite I share with Scott and force sleep to shut my brain off before I do something stupid like cry.
“Want me to walk with you?” Damon asks, already rising.
We fall into step. The night air is humid with a light breeze, but it does nothing to settle the storm inside me.
A long stretch of silence passes before he speaks, voice gentle but direct. “We haven’t really talked since you got back from your unexpected night with Scott.”
Unexpected would be an understatement.
My steps falter for half a second.
He keeps walking, eyes on the path ahead like he’s simply stating facts. “I’ve been watching you tonight. You’re in your head. Distant. Like you’re carrying something you’re not ready to face.”
Heat crawls up my neck. “Damon?—”
“I’m not pushing for answers tonight,” he cuts in calmly, still patient, steady. “I’m just saying I see it. And I’m still here. I still want to see where this goes between us.” He glances over, expression open and level. “I know we’ve only known each other for a few days, but we click, Lyla. We enjoy each other’s company without the unnecessary drama or fireworks. That’s enough for me, and I think it’s what you’ve been wanting, too. I’m not going anywhere just because things got complicated.”
The words land like a quiet boundary and a reminder all at once.
“I’m not trying to hurt you or lead you on,” I whisper.
“I know.” He stops at the entrance to my suite. “Just make sure you’re choosing for the right reasons. Not because of him. Not because of the cameras. And not because you’re worried about wasting my time.”
What are those reasons anymore?
Would coupling up with Damon give me clarity like I thought? Would he help me realize what I want, or would it do the exact opposite?
Damon is in every way, shape, and form what I need—on paper. There is absolutely nothing wrong with him. But what he’s asking is compatibility before passion. Why does that not feel quite right?
So why, after watching Scott with Valerie, does safe suddenly feel like it’s not enough? Why does seeing Scott move on hurt more than it should?
Chapter Seventeen
Day Six
* * *
Scott
* * *
I’m twenty yards behind them on the torch-lit path, flip-flop-dressed feet silent out of habit, when I see Damon’s hand on the suite doorframe. Lyla is already inside, the soft click of the latch cutting off the night like a guillotine. He’s still standing there—tall, stable, the kind of guy who could make a woman feel safe just by the sound of his voice.
Fuck no.
I keep walking.
He must hear me coming because then he turns in my direction. Our eyes meet under the low glow of the villa sconces. No words are exchanged. No words needed. His expression doesn’t change—calm, patient, like he’s already decided this isn’t a fight he’s going to lose tonight. Deep down, the caveman in me would rather rip him apart with my bare hands than let him anywhere near her.
