8
Colter
The door clicks shut behind Robin, and I’m left staring at the ceiling, still catching my breath.
What just happened?
I know what happened. I can still taste him on my lips, still feel the ghost of his mouth on my skin. My body is loose and satisfied in a way it hasn’t been in months. Maybe I’m cum drunk, but I can’t shake the feeling that this was more than just physical release.
And I can’t be the only one feeling this way.
I can’t.
Robin kissed me like he meant it. He touched me like he’d been starving for it. And when he left, there was yearning in his eyes. I’ve known him long enough to know it.
Is vacation brain real? Or were we always meant to come back together like this and the cruise is just the catalyst that finally made it happen?
I think about Pine Ridge. The thought of going back to watching him from across the road, close enough to see but too far to touch, makes my chest ache. And the alternative is somehow worse. What if we go back as friends? What if I get to talk to him, see him, be near him, but nothing more?
I don’t think I can survive that.
The door beeps, and Marc walks in.
“Hey,“
he says, tossing his keycard on the dresser. “You’re still awake.”
“Couldn’t sleep.“
I sit up, pulling the sheet over my lap. “Where have you been?”
“Around.“
Marc shrugs, but there’s something evasive in his tone. “Checked out the casino. Had a drink at the bar. You know.”
“Uh-huh.”
He changes into pajama pants, his back to me, and I notice he’s being unusually quiet. Marc is never quiet. Marc fills silence like it’s his personal mission.
“So,“
I say carefully. “Last night. The magnet on the door.”
Marc freezes for a split second before resuming his movements. “What about it?”
“Who was she? Or he?”
“Just someone I met.“
He climbs into his bed, pulling the covers up. “Nothing serious.”
I don’t push it. Marc will tell me when he’s ready. Or he won’t. Either way, I’ve got bigger things on my mind.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Shoot.”
I stare at the ceiling again, trying to find the right words. “When Robin and I were together … was I really that bad? Did you see it coming? The breakup?”
Marc is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is softer than usual. “Honestly? No. I didn’t see it coming at all. Neither did Jules.”
“Really?”
“Really.“
He shifts onto his side to face me. “We thought you were going to propose. Both of us. Jules even asked me once if I knew when you were planning to do it because he wanted to make sure Robin got a manicure beforehand for the photos.”
Something twists in my gut. “I was going to propose.”
“What?”
“I had a plan.“
The words come out rough, scraped raw from somewhere deep inside me. “I was saving up. I wanted to pay off the last of my business loan first, make sure we were financially stable. I wanted to buy a house—a real house, not an apartment—somewhere with a yard for kids to play in. I wanted to give him everything, Marc. I just … I wanted to do it right.”
“Did you tell him any of that?”
“No.“
I close my eyes. “I thought I had time. I thought he knew how I felt. I didn’t realize he was waiting for me to say something, and every day I didn’t, he thought I was pulling away.”
Marc lets out a low whistle. “That’s a hell of a miscommunication.”
“Yeah.“
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “It really is.”
We’re quiet for a while.
“Do you still love him?” he asks.
“Yes.“
There’s no point in lying. I don’t think the words would even pass my lips.
“What are you going to do about it?”
I turn onto my back and stare at the ceiling.
What am I going to do about it?
“I don’t know“
is all I can give him.
I hope the answer becomes clear over night as exhaustion from the snorkeling and satisfaction from the best orgasm I’ve had in months takes over me.