Myles sits next to me, pulling his backpack over to him. He digs inside it, pulling out a couple of tubs. One is filled with chopped honeydew melon, the other with some of the soft pastries from our rooms.
“You’ve thought of everything,” I say, taking a slice of melon. “Thank you.”
He looks as though he’s going to say something, but instead he picks up a pastry and takes a bite.
We both eat for a few minutes in silence, but it’s comfortable. The rock is so warm, the sun so bright, that my bathing suit dries quickly, even through my cover-up. Myles glances at me a couple of times, and I at him.
“Do you have family in London?”
The question takes me by surprise. “Um, no. I… that is, my mum died, a couple of years ago. I don’t have any siblings. And my dad hasn’t been around for a long time.”
Myles nods, his grey eyes soft. “I’m sorry about your mum.”
“Thanks.” I feel shy, all of a sudden. I glance at him. “What about you?”
He shrugs. “I’m an only child. Like you.” He pauses. “I lost Mum when I was a teenager. She loved the ocean. She inspired me to start the company, you know.” He stares into space, a faint smile on his lips.
“I’m sorry.” I get it. The pain isn’t something that just goes away. “What about your father?” I’m cautious. I know he speaks to his father once a week, at a scheduled time. It doesn’t seem like a close relationship.
He snorts. “He had a stroke a couple of years ago. He’s in a care home, you know how it is.”
“Gosh, that’s awful.”
“I suppose.”
I raise an eyebrow.
Myles grimaces. “Things are… difficult between us. I don’t think he ever got over losing Mum. Married a couple more times, but nothing that seemed to stick. When he and his third wife tried to sue me for part of the business, saying I owed him, that was kind of when it all fell apart.”
“He did that?”
“He did.” Another steel glance at me. “Even after I paid him back every penny he’d loaned me to start the business, with interest. Bought him a house, bankrolled his lifestyle. It still wasn’t enough.” There’s bitterness in his voice.
My heart aches for teenage Myles without his mum, his dad trying to replace her. I put my hand on his arm, unable to hold back. “I’m sorry,” I say again.
“I guess that makes us both orphans, in a way.”
I blink, staring at the opalescent water. “I have good friends,” I say. “And…”
“And what?”
“I have a dream.” Oh God. What is wrong with me?
“You do?”
“I always wanted to live by the sea. And travel. I’ve been saving up for it. I suppose this trip… this is kind of me getting to try that out.” My cheeks heat up. But his grey gaze is so soft, so kind.
“I like the sound of that,” he says. “I love the ocean, too. I don’t own a place near it, though.” He looks down. “I suppose I thought I’d wait till I had a family of my own for that.”
I don’t know what to say. Something in me feels as though it’s reaching for him, an intense yearning. I try to pull it back, but I can’t.
He glances at me again. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like, to have a big family? Brothers and sisters and all that?”
“I do.”
We stare at each other for a moment.
I can’t fight what’s happening here, not anymore. But I’m scared, I realise. Scared of how Myles makes me feel. Because I know it can’t go anywhere. Eloise suggested I have a holiday fling, to get over Dean. But I’ve been over him for a while, I realise. Probably since the day I walked into MB Holdings and met Myles.
