Chapter 11 #2
I returned his smile. “Seriously, yeah? Don’t choose something just because it’ll play well at Christmas dinners.” Huh. Making cultural assumptions here. “Or Ramadan celebrations, I guess?”
His nod was easy, no harm done. “Yeah, my mom and one of my brothers observe the fast, some of the extended family. Just once for me—I’m not particularly religious, but I wanted to see how it’d feel, you know? Being part of something bigger.”
It felt like such a Tay reason to do it. I considered my next words carefully—while I was curious, I didn’t want to accidentally offend him with unintended ignorance.
“Seems like fasting could be tough with what we do?” I asked. “Like, you’ve got a crazy busy day, sweating in the OR, that sort of thing—and you’re not allowed to even have water. Or you’ve got a night shift when that’s the only time you’re allowed to eat.”
He stretched his legs out under the table, one foot lightly brushing mine. “I was still in college, so a bit easier. And there are exemptions—like, patient care comes first, so Muslim doctors can break the fast before anyone gets in real trouble. No guilt attached.”
“That makes sense.” I had nothing profound to add, so I backtracked to the original topic.
“Anyway, with what specialty to choose… The way I’ve come to know you, I think you like fixing things, being useful.
Being the one people count on. But you also…
” I hesitated, then pressed through. “You feel things. CT might wear you down if you’re not careful. ”
He leaned back a little, quiet for a second, the sun carving gentle shadows under his ribs. “Not sure peds would be any easier.”
No. He’d get attached to the kids, and if it didn’t work out… I thought of that night outside the hospital—the way I’d stumbled across him by accident, his head bowed against the cold, trying to pull himself back together. I’d settled him because I could, because I was there.
Next time, I might not be.
The thought of him doing it alone twisted something sharp and mean inside my chest. I gave it a second to fade, then shook my head. “No,” I agreed, voice low. “It’s just a different kind of heartbreak.”
Tay swallowed, gaze sliding away. Somewhere nearby, a bird trilled and fell silent, leaving only the faint slap of the waves against the stilts.
When he shifted in his chair, his towel slid lower on his hips, revealing the soft dip just above the waistband of his trunks.
I stared a beat too long at the exposed stretch of skin, the faint purple marks where I’d gripped too hard last night, before I remembered how to look away.
“Whatever you choose,” I said, partly to center myself, “you’ll be good at it.
You’ll be great. Just don’t lose your…” His openness.
His ability to allow for vulnerability, to feel things.
“That humanity, you know? Hold on to that, and you’re already way ahead of half the jaded assholes who’ve been doing it for years. ”
The way he watched me—it made me feel oddly uncertain, like I might have revealed too much. Too much what, though? Yeah, I cared about him. No secret, was it?
“You really think so?” he asked, everything about him achingly soft and bright.
“I know so.”
Several seconds slid by between us, time gone liquid. When he shifted, it was so subtle I barely caught it—the faintest dip of his chin, a minute change to the slant of his shoulders. “Hey. Dean?”
Flimsy words clung to the ends of my thoughts, nothing I could quite grasp. “Hmm?”
“If I kissed you right now…” He paused. “Would you take it the wrong way?”
It made no sense, the way my body jolted at the idea. We’d kissed before. We’d kissed a lot last night, a dozen kisses or a hundred, hard and deep and soft and slow. And yet.
I inhaled, tasted salt on my lips. “What’s the wrong way?”
Brief hesitation, then he shrugged just slightly. The gentle movement drew my eye to the stripe of sunlight painted across his shoulder, and when I glanced up again, he was watching me with a faint smile. “Not sure. Like—would it be too much, maybe.”
While light, it felt like there was more to the words, a second layer tucked just out of sight. I shook my head. “Not too much, no.”
“Good.” He got up with a lazy, almost feline grace that I didn’t usually associate with him and stopped to stretch—arms above his head, sunlit body on display. The towel slipped loose with the motion, leaving him in just his low-riding swim shorts.
With some effort, I dragged my attention back up to his face. “Jesus, Tay. Might want to put that away before I start quoting bad poetry at you.”
His barking laugh cracked the illusion of untouchable, calculated beauty—left him messy and real and all the more gorgeous for it. “Now that I’d like to hear.”
“Sorry, babe.” I tipped my head back for a smile, pulse fluttering behind my sternum. “Not while I’ve got my dignity.”
“Overrated.” He pursed his lips with a deliberately thoughtful air, watching me, eyes bright. “You know, we’re both kind of salty and sticky. Maybe this calls for kissing in the shower?” A twitch around the left corner of his mouth. “Could show off my breath control again.”
God, yes.
I rose slowly, tried to copy even a fraction of the invitation he’d poured into every line of his body. “You lost,” I said slowly.
“I let you win.” He wore the lie with a playful swagger, like it had been tailored just for him.
“You did not.” I brushed my knuckles along the strip of skin right above his waistband, just enough to feel the flex of his hip beneath my touch. He leaned in as if pulled by an invisible string, and I let my voice go quiet, intimate. “Also, shut up.”
His smirk was soft and loose. “Make me.”
Amusement sparked in my chest and lightened the heavy pull in my bones. “Really? How old are we?”
“Old enough to be cleared for very adult activities,” he said, his grin wide and unapologetic.
“Idiot,” I said, like an endearment.
“Takes one to know one,” he said, and that didn’t even make sense, did it?
Whatever. When I leaned in, he matched me—a kiss a bit like a collision, hot and smiling, teeth knocking slightly before the angle changed into something slower, deeper.
His hands found my waist like he already knew its shape by heart, and I let him back me into the villa, laughing a little when we knocked into the doorframe because somehow, everything about this felt weightless, easy, like falling backwards into bathwater warmth.
Stolen time while the world outside was holding its breath.
“You know what’s funny?” Tay asked.
I blinked up from my book, briefly disoriented after reading two, maybe three chapters in one go, not sure when I’d last done that. “Not another medical joke, please.”
“Ha, no.” He rolled onto his back, his own book face down next to him on the pillow, boxers barely hanging on to his hips. I noticed it in a sated, distantly pleased kind of way rather than with the earlier hum of sharp desire. “Then again…”
“Please don’t,” I said, and his chuckle floated light like a caress. What.
“No, what I meant was…” He nodded his chin at my book. “When I first met you, I sure didn’t think you’d be the type to read romances. Now? I can kind of see it, yeah. The gooey center hiding under a coating of surgical steel.”
I glanced from him to The Song of Achilles, still open in front of me. “It’s a Greek tragedy.”
He let his head drop to the side to slide me an indulgent grin. “Sure, if that’s what you want to tell yourself. Real talk, though? It’s two idiots in love going to war for each other.”
Well.
“That’s a very simplified summary of the plot,” I told him, and he nudged my ankle, the linen sheets cool under us.
“Honestly, it’s nice. You’ve got layers. A bit of a romantic side, even if you hide it well.”
I frowned, not entirely convinced I liked that assessment. Before I could come up with a thoroughly considered denial, though, he sat up with a little sigh.
“Anyway. Think it’s about time we put some clothes on and show our faces at dinner.”
“Wait—already?”
“It’s almost seven.”
I checked my phone, and yeah, sure enough—time had slipped away from me like the outgoing tide, so steady I hadn’t even noticed, when usually, I found it hard to truly relax with people around.
Even Gregg, as much as I loved the guy, could be a shade much sometimes.
Tay, on the other hand… It had been four days, five if you counted travel time, and I felt no need to reclaim my space.
“I suppose we should,” I said on a long sigh. “Charley might send a search and rescue team if we skip the whole day. By which I mean she’ll show up in a huff and demand answers.”
“Yeah, I guess we wouldn’t want that.” Tay sounded light and happy, though, like the idea of my sister finding us still tangled up in bed was really no big deal. I wasn’t sure why it sat strangely with me—not bad, just remarkable in ways I couldn’t quite define.
I rolled up, and his gaze skated over me, unselfconscious in its appreciation. Stupidly, inexplicably, it made my cheeks feel a little too warm. “You getting dressed?” I asked. “Or are you just here to watch the show?”
“Haven’t decided yet,” he said even as he followed my lead and got up.
We joined dinner a little late—a barbecue set up on the beach, with live cooking stations and lanterns swinging with a light breeze. The crowd seemed thinner, possibly in tribute to the afternoon’s swim-up bar that we’d missed. Thank God.
Tay pressed against me as we waited in line for freshly grilled fish, and I leaned into him without thinking, like gravity.
Once we found our seats among a number of Theo’s distant relatives that had flown in just this morning, we made some small talk before inevitably drifting into our own bubble again, a game of trying to outdo each other by comparing our imaginary champagne collection and arguing whether people who wore fake designer brands deserved public shaming.
“There’s nothing wrong with being poor, you know?” Tay said, straight-faced. “I mean, it must be terribly inconvenient, but it’s not a character flaw. As such. But acting like it’s Louis Vuitton when it’s some Chinese knockoff? That’s where I draw the line.”
“Absolutely, darling.” I nodded and tried to control my smile. “That reminds me—there’s this joke I heard, but I didn’t quite get it. Maybe you can explain it to me?”
He batted his lashes and tilted into me, his knee a constant weight against mine. “Oh, I’d be happy to, love.”
“Okay, so it’s about this Saudi prince, right?
He moves to France for his studies, and a couple of weeks in, he writes to his father that he loves it there, truly, but it’s a little embarrassing to drive his golden Ferrari to school every day while everyone else takes the train.
” I paused for a dainty sip of my Old Fashioned, pinkie out.
“Anyway, the father replies the same day. ‘A hundred million has been transferred into your account. Stop being an embarrassment—go buy yourself a train, too.’”
Tay bit his lip against a laugh, eyes sparkling like some goddamn Disney prince. Christ, felt like I was sparkling, too, everything a little too bright and unreal, didn’t know how to rein it in.
“I don’t get it,” he said once he’d fought his initial spike of amusement. “What’s wrong with buying a train? I mean, seems only appropriate? And much better for the environment than a Ferrari. Personally, I’ve decided to pare down my limousine collection to just a dozen.”
I sighed, most put-upon. “Sacrifices have to be made, I suppose.”
“We must all do our part.”
“Wise words, honey. Wise words.”
It was a few minutes later when Charley cornered me at the bar, right after Tay had set off for a little trip to the bathroom. She must have been lying in wait for her chance. The way she leaned in, voice quiet and eyes sharp with intent, only proved it. “You fucked him.”
Keep it cool.
“That’s impressively crude,” I said, equally low. “Time to lay off the drinks, maybe?”
It came out harsher than intended. And if I was too aware of the way my body remembered this afternoon—the way his hands had skimmed over my back under the hot rush of the shower, the lazy press of his mouth to the hollow of my throat, the easy, familiar way we’d touched—I pretended not to notice.
“Crude?” Charley echoed. Her head tilted slightly to the left, studying me as if I were a particularly intriguing puzzle for her to figure out. And—fuck. Like a raw beginner, I shifted under the scrutiny, my cheeks still glowing from the day, from all of it.
Just hormones, though. Sunshine, palm trees, and the constant, soothing pattern of waves.
Something loosened in her stance. When she spoke again, it was quiet, even a tinge hopeful. “I like him. He might be good for you, you know?”
“It’s not like that,” I said sharply.
She considered me for a long second. “Funny, that’s exactly what you said yesterday. And lo and behold, here we are—just a day later and you fucked him. Turns out it is like that.”
“We’re not…” I glanced around. “Romantic. It’s just a thing, okay? Just while we’re here.”
“Is it, though?” she asked almost philosophically, and before I could answer, Mom called her over. Charley waltzed off like she’d been waiting for an excuse to leave me exactly like this—robbed of my comeback and looking like an idiot.
I shook myself out of it and turned, searching the crowd.
There—Tay must have been waylaid on his way back, laughing with Theo, head tipped back as golden-hued light spilled over him.
Just as I realized I should look away, he glanced over and right at me, his expression softening into something quieter but no less radiant.
My stomach gave a low, slightly unsure tug. I smiled at him without thinking.