Chapter 8 #2
“They’re the default fruit. The equivalent of a polite handshake.” I raised my eyebrows in challenge. “No one’s ever bitten into an apple and gone, ‘Wow, life-changing.’ Plus, talk about self-sabotage.”
“Self-sabotage?”
“An apple a day keeps the doctor away.”
He snorted but didn’t bother arguing.
I finished the fruit on my plate, checked out the still-warm boiled eggs, and reached for a bread roll. “Can I ask you something?”
His posture changed, just slightly, to something a hint more guarded—still, even now. “Sure. No promises that I’ll answer, though.”
“Fair.” I considered my next words carefully. “You said that so far, you simply haven’t made space for a relationship. Why do you think that is?”
His face went unreadable, all smooth, calm features. Then he seemed to remind himself to loosen up and shot me a mildly amused look. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“Waste of time. Plus, raised in a family that thinks ‘mind your own business’ means ‘poke repeatedly until you get an answer.’”
“I’d love to meet them sometime.” He seemed to realize what he’d said and quickly shook his head. “Not—you know. Not like that. But because you talk about them a lot, so I’m curious. What did you even tell them about…” A brief pause as he twisted the fork in his fingers. “This?”
Dean, rambling just the slightest bit? Huh.
“The truth.” I shrugged. “They’d have figured it out anyway—I’m a crap liar with people who know me.”
He blinked. “And they were cool with it?”
“My brothers were like ‘Yeah, man, it’s a free vacation.’ My sister got it once I showed her a picture of you.
” In fact, she’d very enthusiastically told me to “hit that, Tay, I swear, or I’ll get Mom and Dad to disown you.
” I didn’t see a need to mention that part.
“My parents were a little skeptical at first, but they got it once I explained that you’re a good guy, just in a slight family bind. ”
Dean propped his chin on a fist, eyes a little distant. “I’m a good guy?”
“Are you serious? You literally save lives.”
He scoffed. “You and I both know there are plenty of doctors with shitty personalities. You called me intimidating.”
Okay, so he actually was serious. I hesitated—not because he had a point, but because I wasn’t sure how to get mine across.
“You’re intense,” I said, “yeah. Focused. And you’ve got walls in place, which is hardly surprising with the way you grew up.
But you’re neither cold nor uncaring. You…
” I leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“You stood up for your mom and Charley in court when you were just a teenager. And I know you’d do the same now for people you care about—be brave for them, protect them, whatever it takes. ”
His focus shifted to me, lingering on my face for a beat too long. I forced myself to hold his eyes even though something in me wanted to look away, hide. Weird.
Then the corners of his mouth lifted, so faint it barely counted as a smile.
“I would. But my close circle is pretty small—I don’t let people in just like that.
Which is part of the answer to your relationship question.
” He paused. “I’ve tried dating, but you see someone a handful of times, and suddenly, they want to know all these things, you know?
That, and I like my space. I’m not built for people being around all the time. ”
“So you’re an introvert. Tons of people are.” I exhaled through whatever strangeness sat in my chest and sent him a full smile. “Do you need space now? I don’t mind, and either way—fake boyfriend, remember? Low emotional maintenance.”
It earned me a huff of breath that came close to a laugh. “Not right now, no. But thanks.”
“All right.” I reached for my coffee and took a sip, letting the taste dissipate before I added, “But just for the record, even real relationships can work like that. Just have to talk about it, let the person know it’s not about them.”
His expression changed just slightly, nothing I could read. He nodded. “Yeah. And also for the record—that small close circle I mentioned? I consider you part of it.”
It caught me out of nowhere, knocked me off-kilter by half an inch. I swallowed. “Thank you. I’m… It’s an honor.”
It’s an honor? Stupid.
Dean didn’t seem to mind, though. His mouth curved up a hint further, something fond settling in the corners of his eyes. Companionable silence returned as I reached for a yogurt.
Just waves and us and the way the sunlight brushed over his skin.
I should have recognized trouble when Charley showed up with a whistle.
“Everyone on the beach in twenty,” she announced, a one-woman task force in shorts, trainers, and a red cap that said Referee. “Wear something you can move in. Or don’t—it’ll be more fun when you fall over.”
“Ominous,” was all Dean said once she left to shake up the next villa.
As it turned out, she’d organized what she called “the Relationship Readiness Games,” supposedly designed to test how couples handle separation, competition, and lighthearted mutual sabotage.
Joking? Hard to tell. Given the clipboard under her arm and the labeled cones dotting the shoreline, I wasn’t holding out hope.
It started with shots and Charley declaring that “Partners will not be couples” with the flair of a talk-show host. “Because, listen. You need to learn how to navigate conflict from opposing positions. Meditating side by side isn’t what makes or breaks a relationship—it’s how you handle it when you’re at odds. ”
Which is how I ended up slightly tipsy, possibly sunburned, and definitely bitter while watching Dean pair off with Tom.
“Not even, like, rotating teams?” I’d tried, but Charley just arched one perfect eyebrow.
“Nice try, Carter. You’re with Theo.”
“Then shouldn’t you go up against him and me with Dean?”
“Theo and I survived planning this wedding,” she said, smug. “We can do anything. You, on the other hand? Fresh as a newborn kitten. And Tom’s here alone, so he needs a partner.”
I glanced around and then leaned in, lowering my voice. “But you know we’re not—Dean and I? So.”
“Tay, please.” She tossed me a haughty look. “Stop whining and get to it.”
As if to back her up, Theo offered me a high five and a massive grin. “Come on, man. Let’s destroy them.”
So that was the vibe.
The game itself was some unholy hybrid of beach tag, obstacle course, and chaotic scavenger hunt that didn’t entirely make sense, even during the rules explanation.
There were flags. There were beanbags. There were points for stealing from other teams, and occasional mini-challenges like “mimic a crab for thirty seconds.”
But mostly there was Dean. And Tom. And how Tom kept smiling at Dean like he was auditioning for a role in some cheesy nineties rom-com.
Dean didn’t encourage him—not even close. He simply didn’t seem to notice how Tom’s hand brushed his arm just a tad too often. Or how eagerly Tom volunteered to be the “carrying partner” during a relay that involved, well, actually carrying a partner.
I shouldn’t care. Dean and I weren’t real. But then, if we were, I wouldn’t stand for the way Tom hovered, would I? So maybe it was okay that he felt like a niggly little pebble in my shoe even though I was barefoot.
Dean laughed at something Tom said—a real, full-throated laugh, not some polite approximation. My face must have given me away because Theo nudged me. “You all right there, Romeo?”
I slid him a narrow glance. “Sure. Why not?”
He gestured at Tom with a lazy flick of his wrist. “You look like you want to fight a man over beach volleyball. Which, honestly, that’d be a sight. And I never liked the dude anyway.”
Theo was possibly one of my new favorite people. But also, “I’m fine. Just part of the act.”
“Of course,” he said in the kind of tone that suggested he didn’t buy it at all.
“Don’t you have a flag to find or something?”
“Hell if I know.” He lifted both shoulders and glanced at Charley with a fond grin tucked into the corners of his expression. “I’m pretty sure she just makes up the rules as we go, for maximum entertainment. Good way to loosen people up a little, though.”
I tilted my head and pretended to think for a second. “So if I body-slam Tom, I could claim confusion?”
“I’d back you up,” Theo said.
“Excellent partner,” I told him. “Five out of five, would pick again.”
By the end of the game, which Charley declared a draw without disclosing her evidence, most people had flopped onto the sand or drifted towards the drinks table.
The sun had dipped enough to take the edge off the heat, and chill music added to the beach-bar vibe.
Couples lounged together, sunglasses on, laughing over who’d cheated while making off with a stuffed turtle and who’d done a better impression of a seagull trying to impress a mate.
A little ways over, Dean wiped sweat from his brow and accepted the bottle of water he got handed. Tom was still fucking hovering, talking, reaching out to touch Dean’s shoulder.
And really, enough was enough. I started forward—no plan or clear thought, not entirely sober either. Bones humming with the sunny heat, I crossed the sand.
Dean turned to face me with a beaming grin. “Tay!”
I kissed him.
It wasn’t a quick peck or a joke, wasn’t soft or friendly.
No, this was my mouth on his, my hand curling into the side of his neck to bring him up against me.
He went still for a single heartbeat, surprised.
Then he shifted—closer, leaning in. A light touch of my waist, the tiniest of sounds as I lightly bit his lip.
His hand framed my jaw, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth until I parted for him.
We weren’t alone. It was a distant thought that rippled outward like a splash in still water until it fully registered. Fuck, his mom was around here somewhere.
When I pulled back, he stared at me—wide-eyed, cheeks a little flushed. Just the sun maybe, or maybe not. Tom had made himself scarce, which, excellent.