Chapter 7
“Hey, Tess.”
“You’re not going to show me some random’s saggy scrotum again, are you?” I avoid eye contact by keeping my nose safely buried in my book.
“Nah. Walter was enough eye candy for one day.”
“So, what do you want?” I ask.
“On the opposite side of the pool…see the woman with the clipboard?”
Squinting, I focus across the pool and spot her. It’s the redhead who almost beheaded me. “That girl was on our flight. She was a real bitch.”
“She just hit the guy she’s talking to with her clipboard.”
“Bet she said ‘my bad’ after she clobbered him,” I mumble.
“What do you think her story is?”
“I don’t care.” I glance down at my book, feigning interest.
“Lover’s spat?”
“Don’t care.” I reply nonchalantly, flipping a page with my index finger.
“They’ve been together for six months. He’s been screwing her sister behind her back.”
“Don’t care.”
“Screwing her brother behind her back?”
I sigh in exasperation, gazing up at the sky.
Why is this conversation happening?
“He’s definitely older than her,” Daniel continues, unfazed by my lack of response. “I know. He’s screwing her mother.”
“Do you think I’m participating in this one-sided conversation? Because if you do, you’re sorely mistaken.” This guy talks so much, his voice is probably blaring through a loudspeaker in hell right now, tormenting souls for eternity.
“Maybe he can’t get it up,” he continues, unfazed. “Poor guy. She looks fiery.”
“Are you done?”
“With those two?” He points across the pool.
The redhead stomps her foot, whips her head around dramatically, and storms off.
“Yes.”
“For now. I may have to revisit them later.”
“Please don’t involve me.” I return my focus to my book when a thought occurs to me. “Hey. Wait a minute.” Narrowing my eyes, I turn suspiciously to Daniel. “How do you know my name? I never told you.”
“Lily… you know, our row mate from the plane. She mentioned it at the pool bar earlier.”
“You were talking about me?”
“She saw we were sitting together and asked about you.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Because she’s a nice person?”
“So… did she turn you down?” I ask.
“Turn me down for what?”
“A hook-up. It looked to me like you were coming on a little too strong.”
“Were you spying on me?”
“What?” My eyes widen. “Absolutely not.”
“Yes, you were. You were watching me,” he insists.
“I was not.”
“You were soaking in my wet, glistening body,” he says with a smirk.
“You’re insane.”
“Worried you’ll catch feelings for me?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Feelings aren’t what I’d be worried about catching.”
“Are you feeling butterflies every time I’m near?” he continues.
“If their wings are made of barbed wire and poison darts, sure.”
“I’m flattered. But, sorry. Not interested. You’re a little too angry and aggressive for my taste.”
“Are you out of your freaking mind?”
He tilts his head side to side and smirks again. “Occasionally.”
Frustrated, I slam my book shut, adjust my hat, and stand. “I’m getting lunch.”
“Want some company?” he asks with humor in his tone.
“With you? Buddy, not if you were the last person on Earth.”
“Suit yourself.” He holds up two hands in surrender. “Don’t miss me too much.”
“In your dreams.”
I return from a relaxing solo lunch of fresh grilled fish and guacamole with homemade tortilla chips. Eating alone has proven to be a positive experience so far.
Scanning the multiple rows of loungers for a vacant spot to escape from my pain-in-the-ass neighbor, I come up empty-handed.
Defeated, I plod my way back to my original spot. Daniel is sitting with a beer and an empty plate of mussel and clam shells, along with some yellow rice placed on the small table between us.
“Was that paella?” I ask. “I didn’t see that—or you—at the lunch buffet.”
“Two of the hotel’s chefs brought out a massive paella pan and served it by the pool. Too bad you missed it. It was delicious.”
“They served it right here?” I ask, surprised.
“Sure did.” He points to the far side of the pool where the chefs are breaking down their cooking equipment.
“Damn. I love paella,” I whine.
“Next time, don’t leave so quickly,” he teases.
“Next time, don’t talk to me and I won’t leave at all.”
He raises his beer in a toast. “Touché.”
I roll my eyes up to the blue sky, situate myself in my lounger, and turn an invisible crank.
“Is that supposed to be a wall you’re rolling up?”
“Yes,” I say with a quick nod.
He chuckles. “Why don’t you just accept it?”
“Accept what?”
Casually, he blows a quick breath on his fingernails. “That you like me more than you want to admit.” He fake-polishes his nails against his bare chest and grins, revealing the most adorable laugh lines at the sides of his eyes.
I cup my hand to my ear. “Sorry, can’t hear you. Through. The. Wall.”
“Tess, you’re certifiable.”
Ignoring him, I mouth, “Don’t hear you,” as I lean against my chair, crack open my book, and clench my jaw to conceal my grin.
Placing a bookmark in chapter seven of Wicked Temptation, I gently close my book, having enough sun and fun for today. Picking up the mysterious towel, I uncover my legs and rise to my feet.
As I gather my things, I turn towards Daniel. “Hey, would you like to…,” but I pause, realizing he’s fast asleep with his earbuds still in. I nod, exhaling a quiet sigh. “It’s probably for the best.”
I walk toward my building alone, stealing one last glance over my shoulder at my sleeping neighbor.