Chapter 30
MIA
“Was breakfast okay?” Swayze mumbles, voice muffled under something like fifteen pounds of solid, muscled arm, currently slung over his eyes.
Using it to my advantage, I do a quick recon mission. He’s entirely fucking with my work productivity stretched out on the pool lounger shining like a damn Chippendale. His tree trunk thighs are legit making my mouth water despite our very filling breakfast.
As far as ladyporn goes, this view ticks all the freakin’ boxes.
His muscles sparkle more than any glittery vampire—Jesus, I’ve never thought this much about those movies before.
I wasn’t even a fan of the books, but with those sparkly little water drops trailing down into black swim trunks…
maybe, just maybe, I finally get the hype about glittering dudes.
Or maybe it’s just Swayze?
Fuck. This is messing with my head.
Is Haven right? Are we blurring lines with the whole fake relationship thing?
Because I live with this man, and sure we’ve had a couple of situations—teeny, tiny drunk errors of judgement—but for the most part… ugh, this is gonna sound bad, but, he was almost part of the furniture.
Ever since we moved next door as kids, he was always there. We were inseparable. Obviously that friendship evolved when I dated Pete, but Swayze was still that same constant. The safe, reliable, fun guy I grew up confiding in when Niko wasn’t around and hell, even when he was.
We never flirted.
We never even made out during spin the bottle for fuck’s sake.
I don’t even think he realized I grew tits and I certainly wasn’t doodling our names in a heart on my notepad—okay, full disclosure, I did that once… but I felt so stupid, I ripped it straight out and trashed it before Niko saw.
This is my long-winded way of saying that our first drunken kiss… and ahem… was an anomaly.
But now I keep looking at him like I’m on a diet and he’s a pineapple, extra cheese pizza. I’m two seconds from binging the entire box then licking it clean.
Goddammit.
I’m literally struggling to keep my eyes—and limbs—off this man.
In private. Which is against all the damn rules.
It isn’t just because of how he looks… I’m starting to wonder if it runs deeper.
He doesn’t just make me feel safe.
He sees me.
If this is all an act, he should’ve gone to Hollywood not PD, because I’m pretty sure he could fool anyone into falling in love with him.
Love?
Jesus, slow your roll, Mia.
No, this isn’t a grand love confession. It’s just… an observation.
I’m not falling for the guy.
It’s nice. I’m glad he’s here with me.
That’s all.
“Earth to Mia?” He braces himself on his forearms and looks over at me.
Oh god. Thank fuck he can’t read my mind. What am I doing even thinking about toxic little four letter words?
Tilting his head, he eyes me curiously, shaggy waves flopping over his forehead in the cutest way.
Shit. What did he say again?
“Uhh… sorry, what?”
He peers over his sunglasses at me, arching a brow.
Hot.
“Was breakfast okay?” he repeats dryly, the hint of a smirk on his handsome face.
Leaning back, I mirror his pose, super chill, smirking right back. I got this.
“Hell yeah. What’s not to love about a floating breakfast? Despite the uncivilized beast stealing half of my croissant.” I wink at him.
He drags his teeth over his bottom lip before his face splits into a wicked grin.
“Beast huh? If that’s what you like, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Oh, sweet baby Jesus. Is it socially acceptable to fan myself when I’m supposed to be super chill and unbothered?
I’ve got zero doubt that Swayze going full beast mode would be straight-up fire.
The little glimpses he’s shown me just when he springs into protective mode are… well, panty-melting comes to mind.
Nope. Don’t go there.
“Oh, I don’t know, you’ve shown those teeth a few times already. Especially around the toad.” I laugh, lying back and lifting my phone up, blindly scrolling nothing.
Why did I bring up the toxic waste next door?
Instantly my palms start to sweat and I try and surreptitiously wipe them on the towel beneath me.
I need to get him out of my head, not remind myself there’s only a freakin’ wall between us.
If I don’t lock that thought back down, I know it’s gonna send me spiraling.
I still can’t believe my shit run of luck. Of all the rooms, how the fuck did he end up in the one right next to ours?
“He’s a douche.” Swayze’s growl draws my attention squarely back to him. There’s that beast mode activating again.
“You doing okay with all of that?” His low voice rumbles with concern, something I can’t hear right now if I want to keep my shit together.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m fucking thrilled I got to see the shock on his face when I laid into him last night for a change.
That Mia kicked ass, but she’s a work in progress held together by Mod Podge and fragile dreams. If you prod her too soon, she’ll shatter back into a million pieces again.
And yeah… I’m talking about myself in the third person because it’s just easier to deal with. Okay?
This morning was the perfect antidote to next door’s poison. For those few hours, I was able to forget we shared a wall. The sinking feeling that’s been drowning me since our little discovery all but disappeared.
Thanks to the hot pool god sitting next to me. Can we bring him back? Please? I’ll take ladyporn over feelings every day of the week.
“Mia?” Swayze slides a warm palm into mine with a squeeze and I glance down, studying the veins on the back of his hand.
“Oh, sure, not like I wasn’t expecting him to be here, right? That’s why I have my super hot, beast boyfriend by my side, remember?” I force out a giggle, but even I hear how fake that sounds. Hopefully he’ll leave it alone if I smile wide enough.
Except he sits up, turning his entire body to face me instead and slides his sunglasses up into his hair, those glacial eyes locked on my face.
Those things are lethal.
Think Superman’s laser beam eyes, but Swayze’s are less weapons of mass destruction and more bullshit detectors.
Truth beams.
When he locks onto me like—well, like he’s staring at me right now—I’m apparently incapable of not word vomiting all over him.
I tighten my grip on my phone like I can use this one little device as kryptonite.
He sucks in a breath, eyes drilling into mine despite my sunglasses.
Oh crap.
“Miaaaa.”
No. Don’t parent trap me with that tone.
“Swayzeeee.” I drop my phone on the lounger beside me. What’s the damn point?
It’s freakin’ useless anyway.
“Don’t deflect, Angel. You can talk to me. I got you, remember?”
“What do you want me to say? He’s here. Great. He’s next door? Fan-fucking-tastic. Because it wasn’t enough having to share the same hotel with him. Why not share a wall too? That way he can really eavesdrop and judge my bedroom skills. Or lack thereof.”
GODDAMMIT.
See.
I don’t dare move. Or look at him. Or breathe, even. I just stare out at the sea, sparkling like diamonds in the sunshine.
God, what I wouldn’t give to just jump in there and swim away.
Swayze doesn’t say a word, but the weight of his eyes pin me in place. The charged silence whips around us like the sea breeze, almost suffocating in its intensity.
A seagull flying overhead cries out and breaks the silence, making me jump.
He uses that moment to lean over and brush a lock of hair off my face, pushing my sunglasses up with it.
No.
No, no, no.
His eyes lock with mine, determination swimming in their depths.
“You know he can’t judge you for shit, right? You’ve got more class, honesty, integrity in your pinkie than he does in his entire body. Her too, for that matter.” His face contorts in disgust. It’s almost comforting to see him hate them as much as I do.
Sun lounger solidarity for the win.
I nod tightly, not trusting myself to open my mouth again. Because feelings.
Apparently, he doesn’t give a shit, carrying on anyway.
“As for your bedroom skills, we might have an aversion to doing things in the actual bedroom, but I can categorically say with absolute certainty that you excel in all aspects of that particular area. Believe me. I spend way more time than is healthy thinking about it.”
He thinks about it?
Warmth blooms low in my belly, the butterflies that seem to have camped out in there for a large portion of this trip unfurl their wings.
“We really do have an aversion to doing it in the bedroom, huh?” I smirk at him, aiming for sultry seductress vibes. Well… if you ignore the blushing.
Not that I’m trying to seduce him. But a subject change wouldn’t hurt.
“Why are you worrying about him anyway, Angel? Surely we’ve put on enough of a show to prove just how hot for you I am? Pretty sure a blind guy would’ve figured that out by spending two seconds in our orbit.”
I suck in a sharp breath, his words stabbing me right in the heart.
“It’s not that… it’s just…” Pulling my sunglasses off my head, I fiddle with the arms, opening and closing them, before sliding them back onto my face.
“I don’t know. Maybe I’m overthinking it.
But if he’s right there…” I nod to the wall separating our terrace from his, dropping my voice to barely a whisper.
“He can probably hear everything if he stands close enough. Sure he’s heard us laughing and having fun…
but he’s not stupid. I told him I like to make you howl.
I’m such an idiot. Why would I do that and draw attention to the fact that there’s… well, you know… no howling.”
“You want me to howl, baby? I can howl.” His low chuckle disarms me and I turn to face him again, my breath hitching at the wide, open smile on his handsome face.
He leans over, his eyes dropping to my lips for a second.
Oh shit, does he think I’m trying to angle for private fun times? Because, okay, yeah… I’m all for climbing him like a tree, but if we toss all the rules in the trash, what part of this is still fake?
We already keep tiptoeing over that line and that really isn’t all that smart.