16. Paige
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Paige
Ryan takes a step back, and I realize I held onto him like a baby koala.
“Sorry,” I say, heat growing in my cheeks. “I just really love winning.”
That’s an understatement. My heart thuds loudly in my chest as adrenaline courses through me. An evil laugh bubbles up my throat, but I force it down, not to embarrass myself further.
“Congrats on your victory, guys,” Emma shakes both of our hands.
Her eyes switch from me to Ryan a couple of times, her grin wider than it should be considering her loss. There’s something more pressing to do than decipher Emma’s expressions, though.
“Aren’t you going to congratulate your sister?” I taunt Jordan, who purses her lips.
After taking a long breath, she bites out, “Congrats on winning this stupid game.”
“Hmm.” I tap my chin with a finger. “How stupid do you have to be to lose this stupid game?”
“That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Now, now. Let’s keep some civility, girls,” Dad scolds her before pulling me into a hug. “But excellent work, you two.”
The two of them barely participated in the contest, if I’m honest. It’s almost like it was a ploy, and not an actual competition. Also, both Jordan and I focused on the game too much to collect intel about Kim. Seeing how deep Dad is in with her, that intel is more than necessary.
“Congratulations to our winning couple, Paige and Ryan!” Anthony announces. It sounds weird calling us a couple, but I decide it’s best not to correct him. “Now, I think we all deserve some lunch.”
By some Santa’s elves’ magic, there is a full lunch served on a picnic blanket in the shade.
A gorgeous spread of cured meats, soft cheeses, dips, crackers, and nuts makes saliva pool in my mouth.
The competition drained me. It wasn’t physically demanding, but doing anything under the scorching sun is exhausting.
I place a palm on my shoulder, hissing when I notice how hot it is.
I should’ve worn a shirt, just like Jordan did.
Kim hands me a water bottle, and I down half of it before dropping onto one of the small pillows placed around the picnic blanket.
Ryan sits far away from me, which is a blessing, especially after I practically attacked him with my hug.
Still, he’s in my direct line of vision, meaning I have to put in extra effort to keep my gaze away.
Why does he have to be so hot?
It’s one constant that has been circling my brain ever since the first time I saw him.
Him delivering sex toys to me would’ve been less embarrassing if he weren’t so goddamn attractive.
Our parents being engaged to be married would be less awkward if my pulse didn’t spike every time I saw him.
Being wary of his mother’s intentions would be so much easier if I could stop looking at his abs.
His now sweaty abs that are flexing as he leans in to fill his plate.
“Paige?” a voice breaks through my thoughts.
“Yeah?” I respond with a breathy whisper. See? Even talking would be easier if he wasn’t so hot.
“You okay?”
Finally, I manage to pull my gaze away from him and toward the person determined to talk to me. It’s Emma, and the smirk on her face tells me she knows exactly where my eyes and mind have just been.
“Me? I’m great. How are you? You did lose the competition, after all.”
She lets out a hearty chuckle before waving me off. “Oh, you know me. Just happy to be a part of the game.”
“Yeah, maybe that’s why we lost,” Jordan comments, and Emma slaps her shoulder playfully.
“But you and Ryan…” Emma continues. “Whew. The sparks were flying…” I level her with a glare so she adds, “From how fast and efficient you were, of course.” She winks, and I know her head is full of completely unrealistic scenarios of me ending up together with our new stepbrother. Ew.
By the time we get back to our villa, my back and shoulders are burning up. Each motion stretches my skin uncomfortably, and I know this will be a painful night.
“Don’t worry. I have just the thing for it. An aloe vera gel that works wonders,” Kim says as I wince while getting out of the golf cart. “Ryan, come with us to our cabin so you can bring her the gel.”
“Sure,” Ryan grits out through his teeth, obviously overjoyed at being my little helper.
I robot walk to the door, avoiding moving my shoulders as much as I can. Warm water is torture on my damaged skin, so I opt for something I vowed not to take—a cold shower. The cool water feels like a gentle caress, giving me a reprieve from the burn.
Drying off with a towel seems insurmountable, so I pat my back a few times and wrap the towel loosely around me. As soon as I get on the bed, a knock appears at my door. I’m guessing it’s Ryan with the gel.
“Just leave it outside the door;” I call out, my voice breaking when I try to turn my neck toward it.
“Can I come in?”
“I’m not…” I start to say, but he adds, “Are you decent?”
“Sort of.”
The doorknob clicks as he enters, my back turned to it. “Shit, Paige. It looks horrible.”
Humiliation laces my throat. “Gee, thanks.”
“You know what I mean. It must hurt like a motherfucker.”
I let out a low chuckle, still not looking at him. “It does.”
“I brought you the gel.” He finally comes into my line of vision, placing the gel carefully onto the nightstand.
“Thank you. Can you please call Jordan or Emma? I need some help with it.”
“Sure.” The sound of his footsteps fades.
Is it possible that I’m embarrassing myself in front of him once again? Sitting on the bed half-naked, while angry red burns adorn my usually pale skin? Still, the discomfort is too great to dwell on it.
I let out a relieved sigh when another pair of footsteps approaches.
“Sorry, I think they’re in the shower.” He points a thumb toward their room. “They’re not answering the door. By the sound of the shower, and, well, giggles, I’d say they’re in there together.”
“Great.” My shoulders drop, causing another fit of pain.
“Look, I can do it.” He sounds like he’s steeling himself for it, which only humiliates me more.
I turn toward him, ignoring the pain. “Really? You were less than thrilled to even bring the gel to the villa, and now you’re offering to massage it into my skin?”
“I’m not offering a massage.” He lifts both of his hands in surrender motion.
“And I wasn’t aware your burns were so severe before.
Besides, don’t put this on me. Your behavior toward me is so unpredictable that I don’t know how to act most of the time.
You’re rude and distant, then you undress me with your eyes.
” I scoff, but he keeps talking. “You hug me, and then you’re back to being distant.
So, consider this not a friendly offer, but a humanitarian one.
You’re hurt, and I’m a good person who wants to help you. ”
His words blare in my head like an alarm, but I have nothing to say in my defense. “Fine,” I murmur instead.
The bed dips from his weight as he settles behind me before reaching for the gel. He’s right. I’m not proud of the way I’m acting, but he doesn’t know the full story. He doesn’t know what Jordan and I have been through with Dad’s previous marriages, nor how much I hate deceit in relationships.
As the cooling gel touches the surface of my flesh, a whimper bubbles out of me.
Ryan inhales deeply before placing his palms on my shoulders.
As promised, he doesn’t give me a massage.
Instead, he applies the gel almost clinically, but a moan still fights to escape my throat.
It feels so fucking good that my eyes close and my nipples pebble.
He covers my burned back with the gel, closes the bottle, and places it back on my nightstand.
I exhale, relieved to find some comfort. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” he responds and heads to his room through our joined bathroom, while the sensation of his fingers still dances over my skin.