Chapter 10
jonas
MilesSimpDaddyCameron: What’s the update?
Jonas: Good morning to you, too, handsome.
Jonas: Wait. What time is it there?
MilesSimpDaddyCameron: 6
Jonas: Jesus. Guess there really is no rest for the wicked, huh?
MilesSimpDaddyCameron: On the contrary. I’m ahead of work for the first time in years without you in my office every other hour of the day.
Jonas: Hold on. Changing your name to Miles Loner Boy Cameron.
MilesSimpDaddyCameron: Get me an update by the end of the day.
Annoying my best friend like I usually do first thing in the morning resets me. A couple of sarcastic swings snaps my head back on straight, and I’m pocketing my phone as I cut through the lobby. I might have been off my game the last few days, but that ends now.
“Good morning,” I drawl to the woman at the front desk. “Can you tell me where I can find the best coffee around here?”
“Of course. If you go down this way, head straight down until you get to the pool and then turn onto the path just beyond it, you’ll find La Taza Alta.” The woman gestures with her hand while never dropping her smile.
“Great.” I nod, pick up a brochure, and begin to thumb through it as I try to come up with a legitimate reason why she might give me the contact information for one Diego Grosso.
“There’s also a Starbucks just past the gift shop over this way,” she adds.
“Oh no. La Taza Alta sounds great. Any chance you think I’ll run into Mr. Grosso down there?”
“Mr. Grosso?”
“He’s an old friend of mine.”
“Oh! Are you here for his niece’s wedding?”
I’ve lied more times in the last twenty-four hours than in my thirty-six years of life. What’s one more?
“Yes!”
Her smile feels relieved. “Wonderful. I’m not sure when he’s supposed to be in, but I’m sure you’ll see him soon.”
“Right.” I knock my knuckles on the counter, slightly defeated, knowing this is absolutely not the update my boss is going to want to hear.
When I don’t move, she adds, “Is there something else I can help you with?”
“No.” I make a show of looking at her name tag. “Carmen. Thank you, though.”
I reach over my head, peeling off my sweaty running shirt and draping it over my shoulder before pushing open the door to our suite. The cold air smacks against my damp skin, and my feet root to the floor, but it’s not the temperature that holds me in place.
Stella stands at the end of the bed in a flaming, red bikini that has me instantly adjusting myself in my shorts.
Two red triangles cover her perfect breasts, and the straps are working overtime to hold them up.
My gaze trails down the soft curves of her stomach, lower until I find the equally small red triangle that covers the tight little V between her legs.
My fingers itch to grasp the ties at the side of her hips and fist the strands of dark, wavy hair tumbling down her bare back.
She looks up at me from where she was just fumbling with the gold bracelet around her wrist, and her eyes widen briefly, but she covers it quickly with a teasing smile.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” she breathes.
I wet my bottom lip. “Do we?”
That gives her pause. Her eyes search mine in silent question, but I don’t have any answers for her. Instead, I close the door and the distance between us, nodding toward her wrist.
“May I?”
She sets her wrist into my waiting palm, and her skin is buttery soft against mine.
I work the tiny clasp as I take in her soft coconut scent, and I’m not sure if I’m even trying to hide how badly I want to be near her anymore.
In fact, when the bracelet clips into place, and I don’t move, I know I’m not.
Stella’s leg shifts, and before I know it, her fingers are brushing my forearm for balance, and I’m suddenly very aware of how close my bare chest and her nearly-bare-everything are.
Her pulse flutters under my thumb the way it does every time I touch her, and it reminds me too much of the secrets we’re keeping.
Except, I’m starting to wonder if the secrets I’m keeping are that everything about us is beginning to feel less like a fake relationship and edging into something more.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I let go of her wrist, run a hand through my hair, and force a step back, needing to put some distance between us before I do something stupid.