Page 116 of My Real Love Affair

“You’re fucking reckless! Careless!”

I laughed. “Yep, that too.”

“You’re wasting your life.”

“I think you need to get laid, man.” I couldn’t resist. “It might help with the stick in your ass.”

“Real mature.”

“Iamthe immature one, remember? The family disappointment. Might as well lean into it.” I headed for the door again. “Lock up when you leave. Try not to snoop throughmy stuff. And maybe, just maybe, consider that I might actually know what I’m doing for once.”

“Do you? Know what you’re doing?”

I paused at the door, thinking about Melody. I thought about how she made me want to be better, do better, live better.

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “For the first time in a long time, I actually do.”

I left without waiting for his response, closing the door on Cash and his concerns and his need to control every aspect of the Bancroft family image. The elevator ride down felt like freedom.

I had a week in Tahiti with Melody. A week of sun and water and no expectations. A week to figure out what this thing between us was without the weight of my family’s judgment.

A week to just be Austin and Melody. Not Bancroft and influencer. Not arrangement and contract. Just us.

CHAPTER 36

MELODY

“This is insane.” Cleo stood in my bedroom doorway, arms crossed, watching me pack with an expression that clearly said I had lost my mind. Maybe I had.

“You’ve mentioned that. Several times.” I folded another sundress into my suitcase. “You need new phrases.”

“I’m going to mention it several more times until it sinks in.” She moved into the room, picking up the swimsuit I’d just added to the pile. “You’re leaving for Tahiti. With a billionaire. Who you’ve known for what, a few months? No notice. Just up and go after one night in a hotel room. This is batshit crazy, Melody.”

“I know it sounds crazy.” Austin had texted me the details earlier, so I knew what kind of things to pack.

“It doesn’tsoundcrazy. It is crazy. Like, certifiably insane. Like, I-should-have-you-committed-for-your-own-safety crazy.”

I turned to face her. “Are you done?”

“No. Not even close.” But she sat down on my bed, the swimsuit still in her hands. “What if he’s actually a serial killer? What if this is an elaborate plot to take you to international waters where no one can find your body?”

“Austin is not a serial killer.”

“That’s what they all say right before they end up on a true crime podcast.”

“Cleo, don’t you think he could have killed me already if that was his intention?”

“What if he gets you on this yacht and decides he’s bored of you? What if you’re trapped in the middle of the ocean with a guy who just wants to—I don’t know—use you for Instagram content and then dump you?”

I sat down beside her, taking the swimsuit from her hands. “He’s not going to do any of those things.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Idoknow that.” And I did. Deep in my gut, where instinct lived, I knew Austin wasn’t going to hurt me. Not intentionally. “Cleo, I appreciate you looking out for me. I do. But I’m going. I want to go. I want to be spontaneous and live like he does for just a week. The guy is so unapologeticallyhim. He likes to have fun. I need that. I want to know what that’s like.”

Cleo tilted her head like a curious cat. “Hold up. Did you just say you want to be spontaneous? Because that sounded suspiciously like self-growth and I’m not emotionally prepared for it.”

I tossed a silk kimono into the suitcase just to watch her eyes bulge further. “Maybe spontaneous is the new black.”