James opened the French doors, letting the ocean air sweep through, ruffling the gauze curtains that pooled on the floor and draped around the bed. The floor was comprised of large tiles in varying sizes and shades of sand, from pale to the richness of brown sugar. I wondered if the materials were native to the area because they certainly seemed to fit right in.
“Out here, we have a plunge pool or hot tub,” James said. Bryn and I followed him out to the deck, where a round pool rested in the wood surface. There, he demonstrated how the controls worked to make the water heated or cool. How to turn on the lights.
The ocean was dark, but the sound of the waves was comforting. The water ebbed and flowed, a constant in a sea of change. But even that constant was never exactly the same, the tides and the seashore always shifting, much like my relationship with grief.
We headed back inside, back by that huge bed covered in smooth, creamy bedding and the most luxurious-looking pillows. I kept waiting for James to show us a second bedroom. But he seemed more concerned with demonstrating how the resort tablet could be used to order room service, find out more about the resort amenities, or select from one of the many in-room workouts.
After pointing out the bathroom with its huge rain-head shower and freestanding bathtub with a giant picture window behind it, we returned to the main room. And it was then that I realized therewasno other bedroom. I frowned, glancing around as if a door to another bedroom might magically appear. I must have misunderstood. Maybe my room had also been upgraded, and he had yet to show it to me.
Bryn thanked James with a tight smile. When he headed for the door, I grabbed my bag and moved to follow him.
“Can I help you with something else, sir?” he asked. “Would you like me to unpack your things?”
“Oh, I?—”
“We’re good, James,” Bryn said. “Thank you.”
I thanked James and paid him a generous tip before he left.
Now that we were alone, Bryn and I looked at each other and then at the bed. It was looming over us, and I had no idea what was running through her mind. She seemed just as taken aback by the sleeping arrangements as I was.
I dragged a hand down my face. I was exhausted from the long day of travel.
“I, uh…” Bryn seemed to hesitate. “When I booked the room, I selected a suite with two beds. In two separate rooms, actually.” She glanced around, looking anywhere but at me.
I honestly hadn’t given the sleeping arrangements much thought until now. Bryn had assured me everything was handled, and I trusted her. And while I could understand Allie wanting to give Bryn special accommodations, we were just friends. I was here as her plus-one.
She squeezed her eyes shut briefly, then let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry about this, Frasier. I, um… Yeah.” She glanced away, seeming to be at a loss for words.
I still didn’t understand why Bryn’s sister would upgrade us to a one-bedroom bungalow with only one bed. But Allie had, and now the resort was full.
“What do you propose?” I asked, wanting to focus on a solution.
Bryn went over to the sofa, inspecting it. “Maybe the couch has a pull-out mattress I could sleep on.”
As if I would let her sleep anywhere but the bed.
“You’ll take the bed,” I said in a firm tone. This was not up for discussion.
The couch definitely wasn’t a pull-out. This resort was far too swanky for something like that. As it was, the couch would be too short for her, let alone for my six-foot-two frame.
She furrowed her brow. “You’ll never fit on the couch, and you need your sleep.”
“And you don’t?” I shot back.
She waved a hand through the air. “I’ll be fine.” But she wouldn’t meet my eyes.
I frowned. What wasn’t she telling me? She bustled about, unzipping her suitcase and pulling out some items.
“Bryn?”
“It’s late.” She gave me a wan smile. “We’re both tired. I just want to shower and go to bed.”
“Exactly. Inbed.Not on a couch.” I crossed my arms over my chest. On this, I would not yield.
“I…” She stopped pacing, dragging a hand down her face. “This isn’t going to work—sharing a room. I’ll just…I’ll have to figure out something.”
I dropped my arms, hands resting loosely at my sides. “Because of me?” My tone was cautious. I was scared to hear the answer.
