Chapter 19 Vince
Vince
The resort’s main terrace overlooks the pool area, all white stone and glass with California sun beating down on everything.
It’s one of those perfect June days that makes you understand why people move here and never leave.
It’s the kind of heat that settles into your bones and makes you lazy, except I’m wound tight as a spring waiting for Trevor’s car to pull up.
Becca slides into the chair across from me, iced tea in hand, her blue sundress bright against the neutral furniture. “You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin.”
“Just hot,” I lie, taking a long pull of my lemonade. The ice clinks against the glass, and I focus on that sound instead of the knot in my stomach.
“It’s air-conditioned out here, Vince.”
Before I can come up with another excuse, I spot Trevor’s car through the terrace windows. My pulse kicks up as I watch them climb out, with Lance from the passenger seat, George from the back, and then Adrian unfolds from the other rear door.
He looks stunning. White button-down rolled to his forearms, dark jeans that fit him perfectly, leather messenger bag slung over one shoulder, small trolley in the other hand.
As he stretches after the drive, his shirt lifts just enough to reveal the line of his torso, arms defined and golden in the sunlight.
Something seizes in my core, heat pooling low in my stomach, and I can’t tear my eyes away.
Every movement draws my attention like he’s the only thing worth watching in the world, the way he carries himself with that effortless confidence that used to drive me crazy in high school.
“There they are,” Becca says, waving through the glass.
We head inside to meet them in the lobby. Becca practically bounces across the marble floor, throwing her arms around Adrian the moment she sees him. He hugs her back with genuine warmth, lifting her slightly off the ground.
“You’re back,” she says. “We’re so glad you could come.”
“Anything for my new friends,” Adrian grins, and that smile hits me somewhere behind my ribs. “Thanks for letting me crash the party again.”
“Are you kidding? You’re saving our asses.” Trevor pulls him into one of those backslapping hugs guys do. “Seriously, mate, we owe you big time.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” Adrian’s voice is easy and relaxed. “Besides, I missed you idiots.”
Lance laughs, punching his shoulder lightly. “Really? It’s like you never left.”
“True,” Adrian says, and there’s something in his tone that suggests he means it. “It turns out normal life is boring after hanging out with you degenerates.”
“Degenerates?” George raises an eyebrow. “Says the guy who convinced us to order room service champagne at two in the morning.”
“That was research,” Adrian protests with mock seriousness. “I needed to understand the full range of your poor decision-making capabilities.”
The easy banter flows between them like they’ve been friends for years instead of days. There’s something different about Adrian with them, more relaxed than I’ve seen him since he came back in my life, like he’s dropped some invisible guard he carries with the rest of the world.
“How was the flight?” Becca asks as we settle into the lobby’s seating area.
“Short. Sweet. The flight attendant gave me extra pretzels when I told her I was rushing back for a wedding emergency.” We settle in the hotel reception lounge, Adrian quickly pulling out his tablet to show her some photographs.
“So, the good news is, my friend Ayaka owns a small florist shop in Santa Barbara, and she’s been wanting to try some new techniques with white florals.
The visual impact will be just as strong as what you originally planned. ”
“You sure?” Becca looks hopeful but cautious.
“Positive. White peonies have more texture than roses anyway. They’ll photograph beautifully, and the scent is incredible.
Plus, I know a lighting guy who’s new in the industry, and he’s been wanting to experiment with warm tones against white arrangements.
This could end up looking even more sophisticated than the original concept. ”
There’s genuine excitement in his voice when he talks about the creative possibilities. This isn’t just problem-solving for him. He actually cares about making it beautiful for Trevor and Becca.
“Christ, Adrian,” Trevor says, running a hand through his hair. “You just got here and you’ve already got it sorted.”
“Not sorted yet,” Adrian corrects with a grin. “But sortable. We’ll work on it.”
Lance leans forward. “What do you need from us?”
“Nothing, really, so don’t worry about this side of things.
I’ll coordinate with Olivia to make sure Ayaka and this lighting guy, Javi, have access to everything they need for setup.
” Adrian glances around the circle, and his gaze lands on me for the first time since he walked through the doors. “Hey.”
Just that. Hey. It’s like we’re distant acquaintances who might nod at each other in passing. There’s no warmth or edge, no acknowledgment of anything that happened. Something cold settles in my chest.
“Adrian,” I manage, keeping my voice level.
His attention moves past me without lingering, back to the group. “I should check in with the hotel staff and make sure everything’s coordinated on their end.”
The dismissal is so smooth I almost miss it. Almost.
“Oh, you just got here. Let’s check you in first. And tell us what else we can help with,” Becca says.
“Honestly, this is your time to relax and get pampered before the wedding.” Adrian gets his stuff, about to head to the hotel reception. I notice his movements are just a little too controlled. “I’ll get everything locked down rather than worry about it Sunday morning.”
Trevor shifts in his seat. “Still feels weird, you flying back just to fix our mess.”
“Your mess?” Adrian looks genuinely surprised. “This happens all the time. That’s why you keep friends like me around.”
“Like you?” Lance asks with a raised eyebrow.
“The ones who know their way around a crisis.” Adrian’s smile is warm but professional. “And this is what I do for a living, just usually for galleries instead of weddings. They’re the same principles, though. Creative vision meets logistics reality.”
“Lucky for us,” George says, and his relief is obvious.
Adrian stands, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “I’ll take care of the hotel coordination, then catch up with you later. I’m meeting Ayaka around noon; she’ll be here.”
“Perfect! We’ll meet her too,” Becca says without missing a beat. “And we’re not letting you disappear again.”
“Not planning on it,” Adrian says, and there’s something warm in his voice when he says it, just not when he’s looking at me.
He heads toward the hotel reception, walking past my chair without the slightest hesitation, close enough that I catch his scent, something clean that makes my chest ache. But he doesn’t pause or give any sign that my presence affects him at all.
“Well,” Lance says after Adrian disappears around the corner, “aren’t we lucky our stripper-turned-savior is here to the rescue.”
“I like this side of Adrian too,” Becca says, sinking back into her chair. “Completely in his element.”
She glances at me as she speaks, and I pretend to be captivated by something going on near the concierge desk.
Beneath all that easy professionalism, all that effortless warmth with everyone else, he’s still the same Adrian who could shut down my brain just by walking into a room. He’s still the same man who could make the rest of the world disappear simply by being there.
And he’s treating me like the last few days didn’t happen.
The rational part of my brain knows this makes sense.
Whatever happened between us years ago is ancient history, and whatever happened before he left the hotel a couple of days ago was just the messy conclusion to something that should have stayed buried.
He’s here to help Trevor and Becca, not to deal with my bullshit.
But knowing that doesn’t make it any easier to watch him treat me like a stranger while joking around with everyone else like they’re family.
“I’m going to walk the beach,” I say, pushing to my feet.
Trevor looks up from his phone, frowning. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah. I just need some air.”
I make it halfway across the marble floor before I hear Trevor behind me.
“Vince, wait up.”
I stop but don’t turn around. Trevor catches up, falling into step beside me as we head outside.
“Talk to me,” he says once we’re clear of the lobby.
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Right.” Trevor’s voice is dry.
We walk in silence toward the beach access path. The afternoon heat hits us the moment we step off the air-conditioned terrace, but it feels good after the artificial cool of the lobby.
“It’s good he came back,” Trevor says finally. “It feels like the chance you’ve been waiting for.”
At this point, I don’t know whether to punch my best friend in the face or hug him tight.
I know him well enough that he did what he did for me, but this feels like reopening a wound that never really closed.
I wasn’t exactly a ray of sunshine in the last few days.
Adrian did come back, dropped everything, flew down here, and immediately started fixing problems that weren’t his to fix.
And he’s doing it with the same easy competence he brought to everything else, making it look effortless while everyone else had been panicking.
But he won’t look at me for more than two seconds at a time.
“Two more days,” Trevor says quietly. “By Sunday, it’ll all be done, mate.”
Done. Right. Like I have any idea what that looks like anymore. Trevor gives me one long look like he’s saying, now’s your chance to do something about it.
The beach stretches out ahead of us, all white sand and endless blue water. It should be peaceful, should help clear my head and get my shit together.
Two more days feels like a lifetime.