Chapter 20
TWENTY
MATHEO
Trinity presses her body against mine, hips swaying to the music that fills the yacht’s dance floor. Her eyes have that glassy sheen of someone who’s had one too many drinks, and her movements are more fluid, less controlled than earlier. She loops her arms around my neck, pulling herself closer.
I steady her with hands on her waist as she sways a little too far to one side and spills a bit of her drink. This is her third drink in the last hour with no evidence she plans to slow down.
“Maybe we should get some fresh air,” I suggest, glancing at her nearly empty glass.
Trinity shakes her head, her chestnut hair brushing against my chest. “I’m having fun. Aren’t you having fun?”
Her body rolls against mine in a way that makes my breath catch. Gentleman or not, I’m still an alpha, and she’s still pressing all the right buttons.
“I’m having a great time,” I say carefully. “But I think some water might be a good idea. ”
She pulls back just enough to give me a suspicious look. “Are you trying to sober me up?”
“No, I’m trying to make sure you don’t hate yourself in the morning.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “And that you’re able to function for whatever activities you’ve over-scheduled for tomorrow.”
Trinity sighs dramatically, leaning her forehead against my chest. “You’re right. You’re so responsible. So...alpha.”
The way she says it—half teasing and half sultry—makes my skin warm. I notice Egret watching us from across the deck, his eyes narrowed. Let him look. Let him see what he gave up.
When the server passes, I intercept him and swap Trinity’s empty whiskey glass for water. She doesn’t seem to notice, taking a long sip while still swaying against me.
“I should check the time,” she mumbles, fumbling for her phone. “Need to make sure everything’s going according to schedule.”
“It’s all perfect,” I assure her, gently redirecting her hand from her purse. “You planned everything beautifully. Just enjoy the moment.”
She looks up at me with those incredible hazel eyes, suddenly vulnerable. “Do you think they believe us? That we’re real?”
My chest tightens. “Yes,” I say, feeling more hopeful than I risk putting into words. “And if they don’t, we’ll just have to work harder to convince them.”
The boat’s gentle docking jolt nearly sends Trinity stumbling, but I hold her steady. We dance until the captain announces we’re a few minutes from returning to the resort.
As passengers begin to disembark, I keep my arm around her waist, guiding her carefully toward the gangplank .
Cash catches my eye as we approach the dock, Lucas and Kyren flanking him. The silent question in his expression is clear: Everything okay?
I give a slight nod, then lean close to Trinity’s ear. “Let me help you back to the room. You should rest.”
“But there’s a dinner buffet,” she protests weakly. “The others?—”
“The others can go ahead without us,” I tell her. “I’ll make sure you get back safely, then meet them later.”
Trinity starts to argue, but sways slightly, proving my point. “Fine,” she concedes. “Maybe I should lie down for a bit.”
As we make our way toward the path to our villa, I notice Kyren watching us intently as he takes a step to follow. Before he can say anything, Lucas smoothly steers him toward the resort’s main building.
“Hey, the lobby piano is open,” Lucas says enthusiastically. “How about a quick serenade before dinner?”
Cash gives me a knowing look. “We’ll save you a seat at dinner, Matheo.”
I don’t miss that they’re giving me a moment alone with her in the villa, my first since we got here.
And they don’t quite trust that Kyren isn’t hiding something from us.
To be honest, neither do I, even if I love the guy.
Trinity leans more heavily against me as we walk along the torch-lit path to our villa. The night air seems to be intensifying the alcohol’s effect rather than clearing her head.
“I can walk on my own,” she insists, attempting to straighten and stumbling hard into my side .
“I know you can,” I say, keeping my arm firmly around her waist. “But humor me.”
As we navigate the flat stone pathway, I find myself breathing in her scent. It’s still hard to pick out the exact notes, but I’m sure now I’m picking up the sweetness of cranberry, now mingled with whiskey. She stumbles slightly on the top step outside our door, and I catch her against my chest.
For a moment, we’re perfectly still, her face tilted up toward mine, lips parted slightly. I could kiss her. Part of me—most of me—wants to.
Instead, I guide her through the door and toward the bedroom.
“Let me help you to bed,” I say softly. “You need to sleep this off.”
Trinity gives me a look that’s half grateful, half disappointed. “You’re too good, Matheo. It’s annoying.”
I laugh despite myself. “I’ve been called worse things.”
As I help her remove her shoes and pull back the covers, I realize that for the first time in years, I want to be worthy of someone’s trust. Of her trust.
It takes a special sort of effort to ignore her grasping hands and whimpering pleas as I strip off her dress and help her into the flimsy nightgown I find tossed over a chair in the living room.
Fuck, this girl is going to kill me.
“I’ll be back later,” I tell her, brushing hair from her forehead. “Get some rest.”
She catches my hand, her expression shifting to playfulness. “What if I don’t want you to be good?”
Before I can process her words, Trinity wraps her arms around my neck and yanks me down with surprising strength.
I topple forward, catching myself on my forearms to avoid crushing her.
Her lips find mine in the same instant, and the taste of her—whiskey, sweetness, and something else uniquely Trinity—explodes through me like a supernova.
Her curves settle perfectly against my body, soft where I’m hard, yielding where I’m firm. Every instinct screams at me to press deeper, to claim what she’s offering so freely. Her tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open to her, groaning as she arches beneath me.
With monumental effort, I break the kiss, pulling back just enough to see her face. Her pupils are blown wide, lips swollen, cheeks flushed with desire and alcohol.
“Trinity,” I manage, my voice a ragged whisper. “We shouldn’t.”
She responds by rolling her hips against mine, and I can’t suppress the growl that rumbles from my chest. Her smile turns knowing as she feels my obvious arousal.
“Liar, liar, knot on fire.” Her fingers tangle in my hair, trying to pull me back down. “I feel how much you want me.”
I capture her wrists gently, pinning them beside her head. “That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” She looks up at me, confusion and hurt flickering across her features. “I’m literally throwing myself at you, and you’re saying no?”
“I’m saying not like this.” I release her wrists and shift my weight to sit on the edge of the bed. “Not when you’ve had too much to drink.”
Trinity sits up, the sheets pooling around her waist. “I’m not that drunk.”
“Drunk enough that you might regret this in the morning. ”
She stares at me for a long moment, then looks away. “So this is rejection. Again.”
The pain in her voice slices through me. I turn to face her, taking her hands in mine.
“Look at me.” I wait until those incredible hazel eyes meet mine. “This isn’t rejection. Do you have any idea how badly I want you right now? Every alpha instinct I have is screaming at me to throw all my values out the window and take what you’re offering.”
Her expression softens slightly. “Then why don’t you?”
“Because I don’t want you to ever regret anything that happens between us.” I brush my thumb across her knuckles. “I want you to remember every touch, every kiss, every moment—not wonder what happened through an alcohol haze.”
Trinity studies my face, searching for something. Whatever she finds seems to satisfy her, because the tension in her shoulders eases.
“So if I wake up tomorrow completely sober and I still want this? Want you?” she says slowly. “What then?”
Heat coils low in my stomach at her words. “Then I won’t say no.”
“Promise?” She leans forward, her scent enveloping me again.
“I promise.” I press a chaste kiss to her forehead, then stand before my resolve crumbles entirely. “Get some sleep, Trinity.”
As I turn to leave, her voice stops me at the door.
“Matheo?”
I look back to find her curled on her side, watching me with those impossible eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispers .
I nod once, then close the door behind me, wondering how I’ll survive the night knowing she’s beside me and come morning, she might still want me.
It’s going to be a long fucking night.