“I’m drinking it out of politeness to the chef.”
“It’s better than charred cat piss, and you know it.”
He doesn’t argue, just takes another sip, and I count it as another win.
The sun is setting beyond the infinity pool, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink that look like something out of a travel blog. Or a perfect honeymoon, even though mine was anything but. I should have ended things with Jon long before yesterday, but I had my reasons for staying. The one that held the most sway wasn’t even about me, and I have no doubt I’ll feel the consequences eventually. I can’t think about that now. That’s a problem for future me. And while I feel for her, I can’t prevent what’s coming, so why bother?
There’s enough to deal with right now. Particularly the fact that I’m sitting across from a man who, twenty-four hours ago, I would have bet money didn’t know how to smile. But every time he does, I feel like if that can happen, anything is possible.
6
JEREMY
My tactical errorbecame apparent the moment Avah emerged from the villa in a white bikini and a sheer cover-up that covers approximately nothing. We’re on a private boat heading toward a snorkeling spot the concierge promised would betransformative—whatever the fuck that means—and I’m staring at her like she’s the only thing worth looking at in the entire South Pacific.
To be fair, she might be.
The boat captain, a weathered Polynesian local named Rai Hawkins, steers us toward a reef while his crew member, a young Aussie named Antonia, preps our gear. Neither of them seems to notice that I’ve lost the ability to form coherent sentences now that every one of my brain cells has migrated to my dick.
Avah and I are lounging on the cushioned bench seats at the front of the luxury pontoon, and when she tips her face toward the sun, blonde hair blowing in the wind, she looks like a real-life mermaid. Her cut is healing and the bruise on her temple has faded to a yellowish green, but nothing could truly diminish her natural beauty.
Her soft curves and delicate features are somehow made more exquisite by blue eyes that don’t miss a thing and the way she’d just as soon verbally skewer a man as smile at him. Or maybe that’s just me because the rare smiles she offers are like watching dawn break over the open ocean.
I should be appreciating the clear water and Mount Otemanu as backdrop, like we’re part of a postcard. Instead, I’m mentally composing a thank you note to my personal trainer. Given the way Avah looked at me when I took off my shirt five minutes ago, the dude deserves a raise. Or a small island. I’ll figure out the details later.
“You’re staring,” she says without opening her eyes.
“I’m taking in the scenery.”
One eye cracks open. “The scenery is behind you.”
“Says you.”
Her laughter is unexpected and genuine, and makes my chest burn with longing. How the hell can a simple laugh make me yearn to touch this woman? I go on dates. It’s not like this is new territory. But it’s never been this much fun, especially given that I’m with a woman who, until very recently, seemed determined to hate my guts.
When I told her at breakfast about the snorkeling excursion, she tried to refuse. It would be too much and she didn’t want to impose more than she already was. Whatever. Self-effacement doesn’t suit her. I cut through every objection by pointing out that I’d already paid for the boat and crew and changed my plans for the day.
“You had plans?” She asked the question with honest uncertainty. What did she think I did all day? Hole up somewhere in a windowless room at the resort coding or brokering new deals?
“Running and ruminating,” I’d told her. “My two favorite paradise pastimes.”
“Wow.” She’d rolled her eyes like that was completely in linewith her very low expectations of me. “You know how to have fun.”
“I’m told it’s a skill that can be learned, but there’s no proof.”
“Only you would expect tangible proof that fun is a possibility.”
Then I’d said the thing that clearly surprised us both. “I haven’t been doing things because I had no one to do them with. Now we have each other, at least for a few days.”
The moment stretched between us, neither of us moving to break it. She’d looked at me like she could see behind the formal billionaire facade, and my heart felt like it was being stretched in new and uncomfortable ways. I wanted to touch her face. Not the cut, just…her. Maybe to check if she was real or some fantasy figment of my overactive imagination. The realization had hit me like a rogue wave, leaving me disoriented and slightly pissed.
Now here we are, and I’m starting to understand how much trouble I’ve gotten myself into. Big trouble. Huge.
“The reef we’re heading to,” Rai tells us, “is home to manta rays, reef sharks, and about two hundred species of fish. The visibility today is exceptional.”
“Sharks?” Avah’s eyes widen. “I didn’t sign up for theJawstour.”
“They’re nurse sharks mostly,” Antonia calls from the back of the boat. “They want nothing to do with you. Promise.”
