Chapter Seventeen
W e don’t talk about it. We let it inflate like a giant balloon sucking all the air from the room. I Google how to turn myself into a mind-reading amoeba, desperate to know what’s running through Rafe’s head.
What I do know is that the bed we’ve been sharing feels a lot smaller, and last night, there was so much energy humming through my bones that I could have powered a small city. I’ve accepted my fate as a wide-eyed zombie destined never to sleep again. I respect the hotel’s request and resist the urge to ask if there are any more rooms, but I’m this close to snapping.
Eventually, I must succumb to a version of rest because Sunday arrives, and we have the day off from lectures.
“What are you up to today?” Rafe asks.
He’s sitting at the glass table in the dining area, eating the room-service eggs and bacon we ordered. I pick up my book, which I haven’t touched since the plane ride, and stuff it into a large tote along with sunscreen, flip-flops, headphones, and a sarong.
I’ve already changed into a teal high-waisted bikini patterned with large white lilies. He’s watching me intently as I move about the room. If I drop my book and am forced to bend over to retrieve it with my back to him, that is purely coincidental.
“Spending the day poolside with Lan and Gabrielle, consuming numerous cocktails, and working on my tan. You?”
He shrugs and takes a bite of eggs. “I’ll probably go to the gym, and I’m supposed to have lunch with my dad later.” He says the last part like he’s bitten into the skin of a grapefruit. I want to offer comfort but resist my desire to touch him. This primal need has become a constant tug of war, and I’m afraid of what it will set off. I feel like dynamite on the verge of detonation.
“Okay, well, have fun?” I say instead, and he makes a derisive sound as he attacks his food. I hesitate, wondering if I should stay.
This is clearly a sore spot, but I’ve been waiting all week to sit poolside with my friends, and I must keep Rafe at a distance. A few kind gestures and one panty-melting comment don’t change anything.
I tell myself that Rafe’s unhappiness is not my responsibility, though something about that sits like a lead brick in my stomach. Nevertheless, I pick up my bag and sling it over my shoulder. “See you later.”
“Yeah,” he replies as I turn and leave the room.
“Let’s take a selfie,” Lan says, holding up her phone. “Crowd in.” Gabrielle and I sit on either side, our cheeks pressed together as she snaps a pic. Gabrielle sneaks a sloppy, wet kiss onto Lan’s cheek and laughs as they collapse into a hug.
“Ugh, you two are so cute,” I scoff. “You’re making me sick.”
“You’re at a conference with like a hundred straight dudes,” Lan says. “Surely you can find someone to turn that frown upside down.”
She places her fingers in the corners of my lips and stretches them up until I bat them away, laughing.
“I refuse to date anyone at WMC,” I say with a scoff.
“You don’t have to date them, dah-ling ,” Gabrielle intones, lowering her sunglasses and peering over at me. “Just do them.”
I sip my rosé and point my glass in her direction. “That either.”
“C’mon, what about Andy?” Lan asks as we all turn to eye the man in question. He’s just arrived with some friends, who are all gathered at the bar on the opposite side of the pool. As if sensing our attention, he looks over, raising a hand towards us.
“I don’t know,” I say. “He’s cute, but eh…”
Honestly, I’d actually kind of forgotten about him. Between the storm, Rafe’s sketchbook, and the incident with my ass, I’ve let a string of texts from Andy go unanswered. Whatever attraction I first felt has become a wavering penlight compared to the million-watt spotlight of Rafe’s confusing attention.
“What about the guy with the muscles and the sexy eyes? Your sworn enemy?” Gabrielle asks, sipping on her drink.
“Gabrielle!” Lan says, affronted.
“What? I’m not blind. That guy is hot , and he has sexy eyes. Relax. I think your eyes are sexy, too.”
Lan rolls said eyes and sits back in her chair. “Gabrielle has a point,” she says. “You looked kind of intense during that whole ‘say three nice things’ game the other day. What was happening there?” She waves a hand in my direction.
I peer into my glass, avoiding her gaze. “Nothing. We were just talking.”
“Looked like more than just talking,” Lan says in a singsong voice.
My thighs press together as I remember not just the words Rafe said but how he said them. Like the hero in a romance novel about to sweep me into his arms, carry me up to his tower, and make love to me until I can’t breathe.
No , he is still the villain. The bad guy. He would take me to his underground lair, not a fairytale castle. Fuck, why is that prospect even hotter?
“Hi there.” I am pulled from my thoughts by Andy’s voice. He’s smiling at the three of us as he settles on the end of my lounger. “How’s everyone doing? I’ve sent you a few texts, Tris. Everything okay?”
“Sorry about that.” I search for a plausible excuse. “My phone has been acting up.” He nods as if that seems reasonable and then looks around the pool area. “Your attack dog not here today?”
“My attack dog?”
“Tall guy with the angry face?”
I snort. “No. I don’t know where he is.”
Andy shifts, moving a little closer, his hip brushing over my toes.
“If you don’t have plans tonight, there’s a trivia contest at the Sand Dune Bar.”
Andy lays a hand over the top of my foot and squeezes. I don’t think I like the assumption in that touch, but I let it rest there, not wanting to cause a scene.
“I’m amazing at trivia,” Gabrielle says, and Lan nods. “I’ve heard they give out huge prizes.”
“How about you?” Andy asks as his hand slides to my ankle, circling it with his fingers.
“I’ll see,” I say. “I’m kind of tired. I might just call it an early night.” I shift my legs, hoping he’ll take the hint. He doesn’t.
A moment later, a Rafe-shaped shadow falls over us, and we both look up to find his laser-eyed focus on Andy’s hand, still gripping my leg.
This is all very annoying, but I’m also grateful Rafe’s alpha stupidity causes Andy to back away. I should be furious at Rafe and his caveman antics, but my inner feminist is taking a nap. She understands that sometimes you need to counter one point of male nonsense with another.
“I should have known the mutt wouldn’t be far,” Andy drawls as he stands.
Unfortunately for him, Rafe is taller and wider and definitely angrier. While I don’t understand what Rafe is doing, I don’t interfere because I didn’t want Andy touching me, anyway.
Rafe’s jaw hardens into iron as he locks stares with Andy.
Gabrielle clasps her hands as though this is an afternoon soap opera and not my actual life. Lan braces a protective arm in front of her, clearly worried that Rafe and Andy are about to start throwing punches.
Thankfully, Andy takes a step back before anything drastic happens, and he looks down at me. “Come to the bar later. I’d love to hang out some more.” Then he tosses a dirty look at Rafe and walks away.
Then Rafe looks at me, and his expression combines all the sides of Rafe. It’s not the pure evil glare, but his dark lord mixed with a hint of protective bear and a smidge of sultry wolf. It’s there for a heartbeat, and then before he says anything else, he too turns and walks away.
The three of us sit in stunned silence when Gabrielle blows a low whistle. “I mean, if you’re looking to get laid, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble, my friend. Those two might even agree to do it at the same time just for the chance to have you.”
She takes a sip of her water and bats her eyes innocently.
“Shut up,” I say before Lan and Gabrielle burst out laughing as I drop my face into my hands.