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I expect him to leave, but he sits on the edge of the mattress, resting his large hand over mine. Under the dome of his palm, warmth radiates from his skin. The heat spreads through my body like my favorite tea. It should relax me, but something is weighing on my mind.

Several somethings.

I’m experiencing feelings I shouldn’t right now. For reasons I can’t comprehend, I feel safe with someone I barely know, someone I barely trust. The conflict doesn’t make sense.

Excluding Adam, I’ve always kept men at an emotional and physical distance. But with Gio, he barges through my defenses and takes up residence. The issue is that it doesn’t aggravate me as much as it did last week.

I release a confused huff. “Why are you being so nice?”

“Me? Nice?” Gio looks offended.

His adorable response makes the gooey sensation seep deeper into my veins. Beneath the blankets, it’s all I can do not to curl my entire body into the feeling.

“It must have been someone else who saved me today,” I say.

Not only that, but he shared his own grief and let me know I’m not alone. It’s something, I suspect, he doesn’t talk about to anyone. No, he’s too proud. Too Gio.

“Be careful, Sparkles, you might fall for the bad guy.”

I harrumph.

He chuckles and lightly taps my hand. But when his mirth fades, he sucks in a long shallow breath. His expression shifts from amused to disappointed. I don’t think he meant for me to notice, but I do.

Does he want me to like him? Like, like-like him?

“That’s why you’re my little hell kitten.”

“Hell kitten?” My lips twist. This nickname is new.

“Sweet, sparkly, and innocent on the outside, but underneath, absolutely diabolical.”

“Don’t forget stabby, stubborn, and⁠—”

“Perfect in every way.” Gio nods his head and continues. “If you’re a sadist.”

“Says the masochist.” I grin.

We share a conspiratorial smile for a long moment, but then we glance away, like the tension of being perfectly matched in this way is too heavy to deal with.

When he isn’t looking, I steal glances at him to relieve the intensity. Though, I think I’m making things worse, because I’m starting to feel something that is much less than hate. I stare at a picture across the room like it’s a rare painting in a museum.

Because of my past experiences with men, I’ve been vilifying Gio since we met. The truth is, after Adam, I was never lucky in love. A decade without it feels like an eternity. Maybe that’s why I’ve held on to thoughts of Adam so tightly. True love from someone else is so rare, I feel like I may not find it again. I can’t help that I want love, but this is the first time I’ve looked at it as a character flaw.

When I arrived in Hawaii, the thought of Adam was the only beacon to guide me through my grief, to prove to myself that all men don’t suck, and that I was loved by someone at some point in my life.

But therein lies the next problem. An evil voice whispers, saying I’ll never be good enough for anyone. That’s always been the core of it. I’m never enough. Not for a romantic partner, not for Roman, and especially not for myself.

That includes my highly successful mother, who wants me to walk in her footsteps. I’d rather not. It includes a father who’s never been in my life. I’ve never even seen his photo.

Though things started bumpy, Jeanie, my sister, of sorts, was the first person to tell me I deserved the best things in life. I want to believe her. In fact, I’m desperate to, but breaking untruths we tell ourselves takes time. There’s no magic antidote to silence them. They’re always present, gnawing at my confidence and whispering I’m less than, even when I try so hard to be more.

Somehow, Gio sees all of me. The vulnerable, the vindictive, and the ugly dripping mascara. For some reason, he sees it and runs toward it. It’s an unexpected realization, especially for someone who is supposed to be my nemesis.

He really is a masochist.

I finally give in and peer at him again. He stares out the window at the sunset, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.

When I review our interactions carefully and cut away the strategy battles, back-and-forth teasing, verbal jabs, elbow jabs, and near-death wrestling matches, our weird little “relationship” appears slightly different from the one I constructed in my mind.