chapter eleven
RILES
My cell vibrates on the bedside table next to me, pulling me from a sleep I’m desperate to cling to, my eyelids sore and heavy, my limbs barely ambulatory.
I smack my fingers at the screen to shut it up, then roll onto my stomach and bury my face in my pillow, muffling my murderous scream as I pummel the mattress beside my ears.
Groaning, “Kill me now!” I lift my head and take a deep breath, then pluck the useless foam earplug out of my ear and toss it into the center of the room. Where the other one is, I have no idea—probably stuck to my armpit for all I know.
At some time in the early hours of the morning, between opening the balcony door, strangling the air in front of me as if it was Riley’s vibrating throat, and then climbing back into bed and eventually falling asleep again, it must’ve dislodged itself from my ear.
Earplugs will fix the problem, my ass!
The inconsiderate jerk snorts in an inconsiderate breath he doesn’t deserve to take, which tips me over the edge. So I shove up to my hands and knees, glare at him, and snatch up my pillow, ready to deplete him of oxygen.
Storming across the room to his bed, I wrench the pillow over my head, but unlike the morning before, I don’t hesitate before slamming it onto his face… multiple times. “Wake the fuck up!”
He jolts and wrestles, defending himself in the same way he did the last time I pillow-attacked him. “What the— Jesus! Rile—”
Growling, I toss the pillow at his blinking, stunned face.
He catches it and then drops it onto the bed beside him before scrubbing his palms over his eyes. “Shit! Did I snore again?”
“Yes!”
“Sorry. I’ll—”
“Shut up. Just—” I massage my temples, trying to keep calm. “Shut. Up.”
He does as he’s told, his mouth opening, then closing, not one word being said.
I sigh, march to the closet, collect a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, and throw them over my pajamas.
“Where are you going?”
“Coffee,” I grouch. “Because if I don’t drink some in the next sixty seconds, I will kill you.”
Again, he doesn’t argue, which is a smart choice, because I’m a woman of my word. Okay, perhaps I’m not a murderer, but I’m definitely capable of inflicting permanent damage to his genitals.
By the time I return from the café, fully caffeinated and a little less homicidal, Riley is nowhere to be found, so I change into my bathing suit and prepare to take my laptop poolside to get some work done, when he comes through the door, a gift-shop bag in hand.
“Before you say anything,” he says. “These are for you. I don’t know if you have any, but these ones are noise-cancelling.”
I narrow my eyes at him and take the bag from his outstretched hand. “What are they?”
“AirPods.”
“What?”
“Do you have any?”
“Not noise-cancelling ones.”
I lift out the box, suspecting the pair he bought are expensive, so I hand them back. “I can’t accept these.”
“You can and you will.” He steps around me, refusing to take them.
“Sleep is just as important as food, and I’m the cause of you not getting any.
Please, Riles, just try them out. If they don’t work, I’ll take the shitty cabin in the bowels of hell.
Not that I want to, because I’ll probably die a horrible death.
But I will if it means you’ll get some sleep. ”
My jaw drops.
Wow! That’s… That’s chivalrous and remorseful.
Chewing the inside of my cheek, I slump onto the sofa, unwrap the box, and pull out the earbuds, feeling guilty for being a light sleeper.
“And if you download this white noise app thing that the lady at the counter suggested, you shouldn’t hear me at all.
” Riley pulls his cell from his pocket and shows me his screen as he takes a seat beside me.
“Apparently, it has over a hundred different sounds that promote peaceful sleep. Fans. Rain.” The corners of his mouth lift just slightly, and I don’t know if I want to laugh or punch him in the arm when he adds, “A ticking clock.”
“Very funny.” I reach for my cell to download the app. “Okay, I guess I’ll give it a try.”
“Sweet,” he says, slapping his thighs before standing. “Honestly, I never used to snore. Not before Krys—”
Riley cuts himself short, and my sympathetic heart twinges a little. “You didn’t snore before your marriage broke down?”
He clenches his jaw. “No. Not as far as I’m aware.”
Scrunching my face, unsure if that’s actually the case, I can’t help but ask, “Maybe you did, and that’s one of the reasons—”
“You think I’m getting a divorce because I snore?” He laughs humorously, but it turns bitter. “Trust me—it’s not. If I snored, Krystal would’ve told me. It would’ve been high in her arsenal against me.”
“Sorry. I didn’t mean….” I shake my head regretfully. It was a stupid thing to say. “Thank you for buying these, but… they look expensive. I can’t let you pay for them. How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s my fault you need them in the first place.” He slides his hands into his pockets, his eyes roaming over my white bathing suit cover-up. “You going for a swim?”
“Maybe.” I stand too. “But I have to work first.”
“You’re working on your vacation?”
“I have to.”
“You have to, or you’re choosing to in order to please your bitch of a boss?”
I draw in a deep breath, hold it for a moment, then let it out. “I have to.”
Riley presses his lips together, his eyebrows rising as he rocks back on his heels, but he doesn’t question me further, which I appreciate. Defending my choice to appease Georgia is draining, and I simply don’t have the energy to do it right now.
“I’ll see you later,” I say, hitching my bag over my shoulder before heading out the door and making my way to the adult oasis, choosing a cozy cabana by the pool.
The late morning sun sparkles above, heating my alabaster skin, so I lather on some sunscreen, open my laptop, and dive into work, making notes and suggestions for improvements where the manuscript is lagging.
Other than some mild repetition here and there, her prose is eloquent, the character vernacular on point.
She also knows her Greek Mythology, which is refreshing.
Completely enthralled in the love triangle between Dyetee, Persei, and Aydon, I startle when Riley asks, “Good book?”
“Huh?” I snap my head in the direction of his voice, my mouth agape at his casually reclined position on the lounge chair beside me, chest bare, abs impeccably rippled, taut legs crossed at the ankles, both arms raised behind his head, biceps flexed.
Oh, holy freaking peanut butter!
My hand slips across the keyboard, and I almost delete a portion of the manuscript. “Shit!”
Quickly amending my mistake by clicking the Undo button, I save my notes and edits before closing the screen. “Y-Yes, it is good! Her writing voice is strong, and the story is engaging.”
“What’s it about?”
“It’s a modern retelling of Aphrodite, Persephone, and Adonis. Set in Greece in the twenty-first century.”
“A modern retelling?”
“Uh-huh. Much like Baz Luhrmann’s Romeo and Juliet.” I divert my eyes from his delicious body and focus on the pool. “You going for a swim?”
“In a minute. You?”
“Not yet. I need to finish the chapter I was working on.”
He lets out a “Hmm.”
I ignore his disapproval. “I’ll let you test out the water first.”
“What’s to test? It’s water.”
“It might be cold.”
“Are you aquaphobic too?”
“No.” I smirk at his witty playfulness. “I just don’t like cold water.”
“Fear not, Riles. It’s heated.”
As I contemplate a quick dip before resuming my work, Ben plonks himself on the lounge chair next to Riley. “What’s happenin’, kids?”
I internally groan.
He bites his knuckle, his prurient eyes shamelessly raking the length of my legs. “Lucky son of a bitch.”
I blink. “I beg your pardon?”
“Never mind, love.” He winks at Riley and nods toward the pool. “You guys going for a swim?”
“No—”
“Yeah, we are,” Riley says, cutting me off while basking in my scowl. “How ’bout you, Ben?”
“Is the Pope a religious fuck? Of course I am.”
Oh my God! What is wrong with this guy?
Riley closes his eyes and slowly shakes his head. “You did it again, Ben.”
“Did what?”
“What we talked about in Halifax.”
“I did?” Ben winces. “Fuck! I suck at this.” He balls his fists, then relaxes. “Let me try again. Yes, friends. I’m going for a swim.”
Peeking one eye open, Riley grins.
“Better?” Ben asks.
Riley chuckles. “Much.”
Okay, that was weird.
“You play volleyball?” Riley asks him.
“Do I look like I play volleyball?”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“No, I don’t, but I’ll give it a go.”
“Good man.”
Ben looks out over the pool and scratches his scruffy head. “Where’s the net?”
“There isn’t one.”
“Then how we playin’?”
“Use your imagination.” Riley swings his legs off the lounger and turns toward me. “You coming?”
“Not yet.”
“Suit yourself.”
“Have fun,” I singsong sarcastically.
“Oh, I will.” He winks devilishly, and my insides curl.
Damn, he’s handsome.
Suspecting he’s up to something, I lower my sunglasses to the tip of my nose as he strides to the edge of the pool before effortlessly diving in like an Olympic swimmer.
“Show off,” Ben mutters before scooting over to Riley’s vacant lounge chair, closer to me. He collects my bottle of sunscreen, pops the lid, and tilts it in my direction. “You need me to do your back?”
I want to tell him I don’t have a back, but that would be… well… ridiculous. “Uhh,” I stutter. “No thanks.”
“You sure? Skin cancer kill—”
“Ben, you coming or what?” Riley calls out.
“Yeah, yeah.” He places the bottle down again and rests his meaty arms on his head, trepidation ghosting his face. “Why’d I agree to this? I haven’t played a sport since seventh grade. Pretty boy is gonna kick my ass.”