Chapter 13 Luke
Luke
Are you fucking insane? You’re taking her to a foreign country, for which you are paying, with people she barely knows, and cornering her in the airplane’s bathroom stall.
Damn it, man. Not cool. Think about how she feels.
We were already at the airport, waiting in customs. The rest of the flight was strange.
We finished the movie, but I couldn’t remember the second half.
At some point, Hazel fell asleep, and I selfishly used the chance to count the tiny freckles on her face—fifteen.
That’s when I noticed Norah behind me, silently laughing.
I shot her an annoyed look and went back to pretending I was studying the evacuation manual.
I closed my eyes to calm myself, but the effort was useless.
My mind yanked me straight back to that moment.
The sweet, tropical hint of mango in her hair, the way her curves shifted as she breathed, the softness of her skin under my fingers as I pulled the zipper carefully into place.
Every motion felt too intimate, like the world had slowed down just to mock me.
And that plain, utilitarian jumpsuit somehow made it look like it had been designed just for her.
How could someone look so good in a freaking jumpsuit? How was that even fair?
Get it together.
I hated that nagging voice in my head. The one people call a conscience. I’ve despised it since childhood. It always demanded I be rational and smart, however, it helped me navigate other people’s emotions.
Half an hour later, we were packed into a minivan. Hazel sat up front, chatting with the driver in Portuguese, explaining where to go. He was smiling at her way too much.
“I’m so jet-lagged. I need sleep,” Logan groaned, rubbing his eyes.
“It was a seven-hour flight. What did you expect, honey?” Norah teased, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Don’t sleep,” Alex said, slapping Logan’s thigh hard enough to make him jump. “Time difference matches the flight, so you’ve gotta stay awake, man!”
“Ouch, okay. I get it, weirdo,” Logan said, swatting Alex’s hand away.
“You’re allowed a 20-minute nap,” I declared, and Hazel turned in her seat.
“No naps! The best views are outside the city, along the coast.”
“Hazel, unless you’ve got coffee stashed in that jumpsuit, I can only keep my eyes open for the duration of one Jay-Z song. Otherwise, I can’t help you,” Logan muttered, already slurring as his eyes closed. Hazel glanced at him, then murmured something to the driver.
After a while, we turned off the main road onto a narrow lane and drove until we stopped at an old shack with a weathered wooden sign. Hazel hopped out and came back moments later with cups of espresso and pastries.
“Are you a witch?” Ethan shouted, startling half the group.
“Not usually, no,” she laughed, handing out cups.
“Damn, this is amazing,” Logan said, already gulping his. I took a sip—it was like warm, smooth lava sliding down my throat.
“Take it slow, it’s strong. And here, have these,” she added, passing us pastries.
“Portugal is quite famous for its coffee, so you’re in the right place.
These are called bicas. Like an espresso, but better—a very smooth, velvety drink.
Locals believe it stands for Beba isso com acúcar, which translates to Drink this with sugar.
” The words sounded exotic in her mouth.
I watched her lips pronouncing the syllables.
“Oh, so not a witch, more like an encyclopedia?” Ava teased, stealing half of Alex’s pastry.
“Yeah, and don’t ask her about the human body. She’ll annihilate you,” I joked, smirking at Hazel. She rolled her gorgeous blue eyes and tossed a sugar packet at my face.
The coast was breathtaking, and I could already feel the ocean calling me.
I leaned back, closed my eyes, and enjoyed the sun warming my face.
A strand of Hazel’s hair floated from the front row, brushing against me.
I gently tucked it behind her ear. She didn’t turn, but her eyes shifted to the right, and the corner of her mouth twitched into a faint smile.
We finally arrived at the beach house and got out of the car.
“Is it the right place?” Hazel asked, taking off her sunglasses and checking out the house.
“It should be,” Summer said, grabbing the luggage from the van. We passed through the gate and approached the house.
“Holy crap,” Hazel muttered, still in awe. Her wide-eyed expression made me laugh, but she was completely serious. “I thought we were staying in a hotel or something. Are we the only ones here?”
“Pretty much. We usually book a guesthouse or hotel, but with so many people this year, we went for this.”
I went to take Hazel’s bag, but she was quicker, snatching it from the car first. Before we entered, Hazel tugged at my elbow, holding me back. I turned to her and saw some uncertainty in her eyes.
“Are you sure your friends are cool with all this?” With all this?! “With me. Here.” She added quietly.
“Of course. Don’t worry about it.” Her concern was sweet but unnecessary. “Come.”
We entered the house, and Logan immediately flopped onto the couch, snoring within seconds.
“Oh wow, look at this fireplace and stone walls. So beautiful,” Norah said, admiring the interior.
“So the house is split into wings. Logan, Norah, Ethan, Summer—you’re on the west wing, the rest of us—the east.”
“Cool, though it looks like Logan’s sleeping here tonight,” Ethan joked, throwing his bag at him. Logan didn’t even stir.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” Alex asked.
“Well, today we just chill, swim in the pool, take a nap.” Ava nodded at Logan. “I will go to the farmer’s market later to buy some food and prepare dinner for us. I need volunteers.” She glanced at the fridge, which was empty except for water bottles.
“I’ll come,” Hazel said without any hesitation.
“Me too,” Summer added.
“Okay, let’s meet downstairs, let’s say, in an hour.”
I grabbed Hazel’s suitcase before she could protest and headed upstairs.
She shot me a sharp look but followed. When I opened the door to our room, I had to admit it was stunning—an enormous living room with a kitchenette, a sofa, and floor-to-ceiling windows leading to a balcony. Beyond that was the master bedroom.
Hazel walked to the window, taking in the ocean view, the salty breeze brushing her face.
“So, is there another room for me?” she asked, turning around.
“That’s your room,” I said, nodding toward the blue door.
“Where’s yours?” she asked. I let my bags fall to the floor with a heavy thud, then vaulted onto the sofa with an exaggerated bounce.
She turned fully, crossing her arms. “Where’s yours?”
I leaned back, my expression calm, enjoying the slight tilt of her head, until it hit her and her eyes went wide—like a startled fish.
“No. Absolutely no. I get all the chivalry, but I’m already taking advantage of this trip. Your and your friends’ trip. You should take the bed, the sofa is more than enough for me, and—”
“Hazel,” I cut in, fighting a smile, “we both know how this conversation is going to end.”
She froze mid-sentence, lips parted as though she had more to say but wasn’t sure how to say it.
“Luke, c’mon, I...” She looked down, visibly uncomfortable.
I got up, approaching her. “Okay, then let’s make it fair. We’re here for two weeks—how about we split it? You take the bed the first week, I’ll take it the second. Deal?”
She watched me suspiciously. “And you won’t back out? No dramatic gestures, hiding behind the noble pretense of being a gentleman? No lies?”
I stepped closer, just enough to make her blink. Her scent hit me, soft and unexpected, throwing me off for a second. “First of all,” I said, steadying my voice, “I am a gentleman. Second, I rarely lie.”
Wasn’t I lying to my friends about her? And wasn’t I deceiving her about the financial side of this trip?
The truth was, there was no way my work would cover the cost of this vacation. But it didn’t strain me financially, and Hazel really needed to get away. Even if it was just for a little while, to catch her breath from work. From life.
“Didn’t you lie to your friends about me?” Hazel asked, as if reading my mind.
“I said rarely.”
She laughed wholeheartedly at my weak reply and disappeared into the bedroom. “I must admit, this bed looks ridiculously comfy.” Hazel sat down, then stretched out on her back, arms reaching above her head. I wandered to the window and noticed the balcony connected both rooms.
Great. Just what I needed. A shared balcony and a brain already filling in the blanks.
“Alright. If we’re really splitting it,” she finally said, getting up and dragging her suitcase into the bedroom.
“There’s only one issue—the bathroom’s in the bedroom,” I realized aloud.
“Well, I’m not peeking if you’re not peeking,” she said, trying to be funny. My smile slowly turned into a grin, but I stayed silent. “Oh, whatever,” she huffed, her cheeks flushing pink. “I’m hopping in the shower real quick before heading to the farmer’s market.”
Taking that as my cue to leave, I stepped out.
But as I closed the door, a strange, restless feeling tugged at my chest. This trip would either be amazing or test every part of me.
I cracked open a beer the previous tenant had left in the mini-fridge, watching the ocean through the windows.
The faint sound of the shower starting in the next room made me glance over without thinking, and I silently sighed.