They hit the wall in a tangle of splashes and elbows. The pairs already there whooped as Lillian followed closely with Cassian, whose hair hadn’t even gotten damp.
Bea tipped her head back, lungs burning, cheeks stretched into a wide grin. Rafael came round to face her.
“We lost,” she said.
“Did we?” he asked, rubbing a water droplet gently from her eyelashes. “It felt like winning.”
Plates sat where they’d been left, wineglasses half full, catching the low light. Conversation had unraveled into soft laughter and incomplete thoughts, the kind that only surfaced once the week was officially over.
Charles stood first, fingers sliding into Naomi’s palm. “Excuse us, friends. My wife is tired from all the exercise.”
“What? No I’m—” Naomi began, but he said something low against her ear, and her protest died on her lips. She went still for half a second, then her mouth curved. “Actually, yes. Bedtime. Breakfast will be in the dining room. The staff will make you whatever you want.”
That was the cue. Chairs scraped back. Everyone peeled off in assorted directions, some toward doors, others out onto the terrace with refilled drinks.
Bea stalled. She collected glasses that didn’t need collecting. Stacked napkins. Anything to delay the moment where she would have to choose what this night meant. When she finally turned around, Rafael was there, as if waiting for her had never been in question.
They walked upstairs together. The house was quieter now, their footsteps softened by the carpet. Bea was aware of him in a way that felt almost too sharp to bear. The warmth of his arm when their sleeves brushed. The fact that this was the first night in what felt like eternity that they’d be sharing a bed.
Their door closed.
“You can use the ensuite first,” Rafael said, neutral.
“Thank you,” Bea said a little formally. She dug her clothes out of her bag and shut the bathroom door behind her.
She moved quickly. Brush. Cleanse. Moisturize. Familiar rituals. Then the pink button-up sleep shirt. The one he liked…to unbutton. The one she pretended she hadn’t chosen on purpose, knowing there was at least some chance they’d be sharing a room.
She peered at herself in the mirror, not to check her appearance. Checking whether she was ready to mean this.
Her hand rested on the handle. Walking out meant wanting him again. Letting him close. Letting herself soften without all the answers yet.
She opened the door.
Rafael was sitting at the edge of the bed, wearing a white t-shirt and grey shorts that rode low on his hips. He looked up. No smile, no words, only a slow exhale, as if seeing her knocked the breath from his lungs. His Adam’s apple bobbed.
“Come here, little Bea,” he said, soft as a prayer.
She crossed to him slowly, pulse hammering in places she didn’t want to name. Every step tightened the thrill that was coiled in her belly.
When she was in front of him, he lifted his hands and let them drift down her arms, along the curve of her waist, down past her hips, as though her body were braille and endlessly worth rereading.
She’d missed the way he touched her. Reverent, like she was something precious. Bea pretended to smooth her hair. “Brush your teeth. We should get to bed.”
He nodded without seeming to hear her. Let her go slowly. Only after the door shut behind him did she remember how to breathe.
Bea climbed into bed, nerves still humming beneath her skin. She could still feel where he’d traced her. It wasn’t rest that waited for her, it was desire, unresolved.
Rafael came back minutes later, climbing in behind her. The gap he left was intentional, so obvious it bordered on mocking. It didn’t last.
His arm slid around her waist, strong and sure, and drew her back until she fit where she always had—spine to chest, knees bent.
And then she felt…him. A thick line of pressure against her, so tantalizingly close to where she’d been empty for weeks.
“Rafael,” she said softly. Not alarmed, but not prepared, either.
“Ignore it.”
Bea shifted. Not fully intentional—but not innocent either. Her body was making the decisions. The movement dragged her along him, and he responded. A twitch that made her throat go dry.
