Page 87 of The Villain

I shucked off my jeans and T-shirt and pulled on my own swim shorts—a solid navy-blue pair that was the plainest thing I could find. I was not walking out there in a fluorescent lightning pattern.

Devlin’s sharp voice drew my attention. “Cian, what the hell?”

I turned to find him standing in front of the bathroom mirror, wearing the shorts. They were… tight.Reallytight. Showed off his ass perfectly. He turned with a glare and gestured at them. “Are you fucking serious?”

“They look great.”

“They’re cutting off blood flow.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

He blew out a breath and braced his hands on his hips. Fuck, he looked great in those shorts. The little green frogs brought out the color of his eyes, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

“You did this on purpose. These are a boys XXL.”

I shrugged. “Must’ve read the tag wrong.”

“Oh, but you readyourtag right? Because your shorts seem just fine.”

“I need more room. My dick’s bigger.”

His jaw dropped, but before he could throw something at me, I hauled him into my arms and blew a raspberry into his neck. He squealed and laughed, and I knew I’d won this round.

Devlin

Cian made me stand on the balcony while he sprayed my entire body with sunscreen, even the tops of my feet. Then he coated my face in some kind of lotion that tinged my skin white. It was moments like this that reminded me he’d been a pseudo-parent for nearly half his life.

While I returned the favor and sprayed him, he said, “I made sure to buy the reef-safe sunscreen.”

“What does that mean?”

“When this stuff gets in the water, it’s not supposed to harm the reefs. Or other wildlife. I don’t know, just fucking finish up, okay?”

“You have a lot of skin, Cian. Chill.”

On our way out the door, I picked up the beach bag and spotted something black and white inside. I reached in and pulled out a small stuffed orca. My brain could hardly process what I was looking at, and I must’ve stared at it for a good thirty seconds while Cian fidgeted beside me. Cian neverfidgeted.

Finally, I lifted my gaze to his. “You bought me a stuffed orca.”

He looked anywhere but in my eyes as a red flush stained his cheeks. “A percentage of the purchase goes toward conservation efforts.”

“You bought me a stuffed orca.” I repeated slowly.

He shrugged. “Maybe I bought it for me.”

I held it out to him. “You want it, then?”

“I guess you can borrow it.”

I grinned. “You’re such a dick.” I peered into the bag again and spotted another stuffed animal. This time, I pulled out a great white shark, and I looked up at Cian with a raised eyebrow.

“Didn’t want the orca to be lonely…” he mumbled, like that was a perfectly logical reason.

My stomach fluttered. I placed the orca and shark side by side on a nest of pillows, facing the TV. “I love them.”

He snatched the bag out of my hand and hooked the straps over his shoulder like a purse. Then he slid a pair of aviator-style sunglasses over his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

We rented chairs and towels from the hotel and made our way out to the beach. I knew we were going to have a problem as soon as we stepped onto the sand. All heads turned to us. Particularly Cian, because of course. He stood at least six foot four, was built like a professional athlete, and had acres of tattooed skin. And despite his claim he was ugly, he made those cheap-ass sunglasses look designer.