by Gia Riley
I only drool more when he unbuttons his shorts and begins to pull them down over his hips. The fantasy ends when he reveals one of the smallest bathing suit bottoms I’ve ever seen on a man. It’s like a cold bucket of water was poured over my head, drowning my libido.
“What do you think?” he asks, as he closes some of the distance between us.
He has to be joking. That’s what this is—a test. “It’s an interesting choice. It’s very European.”
“Right? My stylist had it made especially for this trip. He works with all the top designers in Milan, Paris, and New York.”
Another red flag rises. “You have a stylist?”
“He mostly works for my mother, but he’s available to the entire family. That includes you, if you come back home with me.”
I take a step back from him. He needs to slow down. You don’t talk about forever on a first date, at least not in my prior experiences. “I don’t even know where you’re from.”
“We live in Cape Cod, but travel a lot. My father owns a yacht manufacturing company and does business all over the world. Growing up, I spent more time at sea than I did on dry land. That’s what I meant when I said I can take you anywhere you want to go.” He flops down in the center of the bed complete with sheets, pillows, and rose petals. I know for a fact these rentals don’t come with rose petals. I saw it in the brochure. Lincoln must have more money than he knows what to do with.
“Sounds like you’ve led a very privileged life.” I sit down beside him on the edge of the bed like he might bite me if I get too close. I can’t get a good read on him. One minute he says something sweet, and the next he gives off creepy vibes. Maybe he’s trying too hard to impress me or maybe he thinks I need fancy things in my life. But I’m not that kind of girl. Everything I have, I work hard for, and I’m okay with that.
“It’s been good,” he agrees. “Come rest with me.”
I never had a problem cozying up to Easton, but nothing about being here with Lincoln feels as natural as it did with him. I can’t cuddle, but I lie on my side beside him with my head propped up on my hand. “What else do you want to talk about?”
He rolls onto his stomach and looks me straight in the eyes. “I want to know everything, anything, and then some. You can go first. Ask me anything, I’m an open book.”
It doesn’t surprise me that he wants to talk about himself some more. From what I’ve seen, he’s pretty good at it. I would have thought he’d at least ask where I’m from, or what I do for a living, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and wait until it’s his turn. I even help him out when I ask, “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m signed with a modeling agency in New York City, but when I’m not making an ad look good, I’m working with hedge funds and other investments. My trust fund lets me play around which is fun. We all need something to occupy our time on a rainy day, right?”
“I usually watch a movie on rainy days, but I thought you said you lived in Cape Cod.”
“I do, but I have a penthouse in the city, too. I’m back and forth a lot. I can’t be expected to stay in a hotel all the time. Plus, I’d miss Bernie’s cooking.”
“Oh,” I respond quietly, his copious amounts of money suddenly making my much smaller paycheck feel insignificant. I’m proud of my work and my job, but I can’t compete with a guy who tosses money around for fun. “Who is Bernie?”
“She’s the housekeeper in Cape Cod. Bernie’s short for Bernadette.”
I pull my sunglasses off the top of my head, and toss them in my bag. He’s making me sleepy with his story telling, so I rest my head on the pillow beside me. Lincoln takes the opportunity to move a little closer, reaching out and running his finger along the length of my cheek. “I haven’t asked you a single question, I’m sorry.”
And there it is again—his softer, sweeter side. “That’s okay.”
“You’re gorgeous, you know that?”
“Thank you.”
“My friends would lose their minds if I came home with you. They were convinced my perfect match was some older woman with a small rack.” He glances at my chest and smirks. “I’d love to prove them wrong. What do you say we send them a selfie?”
“What? I look terrible. It’s hot out here and I’m sweating.”
“I just told you you’re smokin’. Plus, your hair’s a little messy. They’ll think we did it.” He hops off the bed, digs around in his man purse, probably also picked out by his stylist, and pulls out his smartphone. He aims it at me, but pauses. “Take off your shirt.”
“What?”
“Why do you keep asking me to repeat myself?”
“Because I think you’ve lost your mind.”
“You have a suit on, don’t you? It’s not like you’re naked.”
Reluctantly, I pull my cover-up over my head, and Lincoln drops his phone on the bed the second my boobs are in plain sight, his tongue practically hanging out of his mouth. It makes me feel cheap and suddenly I don’t want my picture taken anymore. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because I want you.”
He may love his yachts, back account, and expensive life, but it’s not what I’m looking for. Perfect Match or not, Lincoln is never going to be mine. That much I’m certain.
“Come on, baby, smile for daddy.”
Is he fucking serious? I stand up, grab my bag and slide my feet in my sandals. “I’m not your baby. And my daddy is back home in Delaware.”
I’m almost out of the cabana when he grabs my bag and pulls me back inside. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to take pictures. I’m not the best at this—usually my dates are set up for me and all I have to do is show up and put out. I’m not exactly used to trying.”
“What are you saying? You use escorts or you are an escort?”
“No, babe. I don’t have to pay for dates. They’re all daughters or nieces of men my father does business with. I’m simply told where I need to go and her name. That’s about it.”
“That sounds miserable and about as unromantic as it gets. Don’t you want to live your own life? Make your own choices?”
“Honestly? Not really. I have it made and as long as I keep my parents happy, I’m set for life. That’s why I’m here. Mom said this might work out in my favor. Clearly, she was right—I met you.”
I don’t want to bring my best friend into this, but I can’t walk out of here until I ask him. “What was wrong with Noelle?”
“Just about everything. She’s cute, funny even, but she’s not a ten like you are, Lark. And I need to go home with a ten. I go to a lot of charity functions and get my picture taken a lot. I need someone like you on my arm.”
“Do you think you’re a ten, Lincoln?”
He smirks, moving closer to me again. “You tell me, babe. Do you see a ten when you look at this body?” He runs his hand over his chest and down his stomach before reaching for my waist and pulling me closer to him.
I can’t get his hands off me fast enough, so I push him away. He stumbles backward, shocked that I just shoved him. “When I look at you, all I see is a small minded person wearing an even smaller bathing suit that’s probably covering an even smaller dick. Nothing about you is attractive. In fact, I think you’re disgusting.”
“You little bitch,” he barks back as I storm out of the cabana. “You have no idea who I am, Lark.”
“You’re right. I don’t. But I don’t plan on sticking around to find out either.”
“Where are you going? We’re miles away from the ship.”
“I need a minute.” Somewhere in his pea-sized brain he must believe I’m coming back because he turns around and lets me leave. It’s not that I want him to chase me, but if he were Easton, he would have. Then again, I never would have said those things to Easton in the first place. His heart never felt cold, self-righteous, or conceded despite his success.
Once I’m free of Lincoln, I run toward the water, the sand scorching my feet all over agai
n. I’m angry at Lincoln for being such an asshole, but I’m angry with myself even more. I shouldn’t be on this date. I shouldn’t be walking into an ocean I’m scared of because I have no place else to go. But once my overheated skin touches the salty water, all the tension I’m harboring seeps out of me. All the confusion is pushed aside by an overwhelming dose of clarity—I have feelings for Easton. Feelings that go beyond the physical. I care about him, and I miss him.
I’m so lost in thought, I don’t realize I’m wading outside the designated swimming area until the soft, sandy bottom drops off, sucking me underneath the surface. I kick my legs as hard as I can, trying everything I can to keep my head above the water, but the slap against my leg that lights my entire body on fire has me screaming out in pain.
The saltiest water I’ve ever tasted fills my mouth, making me gag. I kick until the water’s not as deep, but another slap lights my foot on fire. The pain is so strong I’m positive this is what it must feel like to be electrocuted.
My toes search for the sandy bottom again, but my legs are in no condition to carry me to shore. I try to float on my back, but I’m too lightheaded to get my brain to cooperate with the rest of my body. All I can do is wait until it’s over. I did this to myself. I was being stubborn.
Like my prayers have been answered, strong arms wrap around my middle and hold me above the water. I’ve never been so glad to see Lincoln.
“I’ve got you,” he says. “You’re okay, baby.”
“Easton?” I’m too weak to say much of anything else, my body limp and lifeless in his arms. Little by little, the water covers less and less of my body as he carries me to shore. He lays me in the sand at the edge of the water, but the sun’s beating down in my eyes, and I can’t see his face. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe he’s not here.
It’s only when he’s back at my side that I realize I wasn’t hallucinating. Tiny droplets of water fall off the stands of his hair, each one landing on some part of me. My eyes focus on his lips, his words coming out muffled at first like he’s far away from me. But as soon as he touches my face, everything comes into focus. “Easton,” I whisper.
“I’m right here. Why were you out there alone? Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?”
“I needed to relax and get away from Lincoln.”
“But you hate the water, baby.”
“I didn’t think I was going in that far, but before I knew it, it was really deep. Easton, my legs are on fire. I don’t think I can get up.”
“You were stung pretty bad. The lifeguard’s coming to help you, and then you’re going back to the ship to see the doctor.”
“I don’t want to go alone. Will you stay with me?”
He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before releasing it. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Even though I left you?”
“Even then.”
“How did you know where to find me?”
He laughs as he shakes his head. “I wasn’t about to let you go out with that fuck nut alone. I followed you.”
Despite my leg being on fire, I smile. I can’t think of a better way to describe Lincoln. “He’s the biggest fuck nut I’ve ever met in my life. He’s nothing like you.”
Easton’s quiet for what feels like forever, but his touch never stops. He’s still holding my right hand, and stroking my cheek with his other. “Fuck, what’s taking them so long? I’m two seconds from carrying you back to the ship myself.”
“I’m okay. It hurts, but you’re helping.” All I can see are the clouds above my head and the bright blue sky. I’m sure everyone on the beach is watching us, wondering what happened to me.
“What in the actual fuck is that asshat wearing?”
“You say fuck a lot. I kind of missed it.”
“I think it’s deserved when it comes to him. Am I wrong?”
Considering Lincoln doesn’t once come to my side to ask how I’m doing or tell Easton to back off, I think he deserves whatever Easton wants to say about him. “Noelle had it right all along. He’s not a good guy. Being with him was uncomfortable.”
“Please tell me he didn’t touch you, Lark.” His grip on my hand tightens while he waits for my answer.
“He didn’t. Not even close.”
He exhales and then his hands are gone from mine. Two men take over, telling me to stay still as they roll me on my side and shove a hard backboard underneath me like I was in a car accident instead of stung by some insane jellyfish posse.
Without warning, they lift me, my stomach dropping and my hands reaching out for something to hold onto to. “Easton?”
“I’m right here.”
He stays by my side until we’re stuffed in the back of a van that’s so hot I’m sweating. Easton reaches to crack a window, but the air is just as warm, if not worse. “What smells?”
“The vinegar they put on you to stop the sting from spreading.”
“Oh, I thought it was clean water. That’s disgusting. Karma is such a bitch.”
Easton moves from his seat to the floor and slides close enough that my head now rests in his lap. I can’t see his face, yet I sense he has something he needs to say. After all, I did run out on him. I deserve to be yelled at, called terrible names, and then some.
But he doesn’t raise his voice. He simple asks, “Why did you go with him, Lark?”
“Because I felt like we were a mistake, and it hurt so much. I did the only thing I could think of at the time. Now that I’ve had time to think about it, it wasn’t the least bit rational. It was the wrong choice.”
“Do you still think we’re a mistake?”
“Me and you?”
“Me and you,” he repeats.
“No, we’re the opposite. Someone who saves my life will never be a mistake.”
“Even Grant?”
I think long and hard, realizing Grant wasn’t a mistake either. He may have broken my heart, but had I not been with him, I wouldn’t have ended up finding Easton. For that reason alone, I can’t regret Grant. “Can we finish this conversation when we get out of the van? I can’t even see your face while I’m talking to you.”
“We don’t have to. It doesn’t matter if he was a mistake or not. All I need to know is if you’re coming back to my room tonight, or if you plan on going your own way.”
Separating is the last thing I want, but I don’t know how to continue a relationship with someone who isn’t willing to open up to me. Other than his band, I don’t have a clue who he is without Midnight Fate. “I admit I panicked when the envelope came and your name wasn’t on the piece of paper anymore. I love being with you, Easton, but there’s a lot of unanswered questions that have come between us—and you’ve made no attempt at making sense of any of them. And then I saw you with another girl in your arms and I stopped trusting you.”
“I can explain what you saw, and I can guarantee you it wasn’t what it looked like.”
“I had no way to know that. I still don’t.”
“Not that I wanted you to see me holding her, but had you waited in the hallway for another minute, you would have seen me dropping her off in Dom’s arms. That wasn’t another woman. It was Gina. The same girl who signed me up for The Perfect Match.”
I lift my head, trying my best to sit up, but Easton gently presses on my shoulders, stopping me from moving. “I need to see your face,” I tell him. I need proof that he’s telling me the truth. Proof I’ll only find in his eyes—those same eyes where his deepest secrets hide.
“We’ll be on the ship in a couple minutes. You’re not getting up until they look at you.”
Even though he doesn’t come right out and tell me about his past, Gina, or the wings on his back, the tone of his voice tells me all I need to know. I was wrong—so very wrong. I took it too far by going out with Lincoln. “I’m sorry.”
He neither accepts or rejects my apology, instead climbing to his feet and closing the van window. “We’re here.” It stings when he doesn�
��t forgive me, and as much as I deserve it, I still can’t keep my tears from falling down my cheeks and soaking my neck. I may have messed up the best thing to happen to me.
Once I’m safely in a bed in the doctor’s office, Easton pulls a chair next to the side of my bed before reaching for my hand again in what feels like the beginning of goodbye. It only makes my tears fall harder. “Please don’t cry.”
“I’m scared.” I’m scared he’s going to walk out of this room and I’ll never see him again. Even worse, I’m afraid I’ll never feel this alive again. Because despite the anger, tears, and frustration, he gives me more than I ever thought I needed. He’s taught me I don’t always have to take care of myself on my own. That it’s okay to depend on a man for even my most basic needs—love and happiness.
“We’ll finish this conversation once you’re done here. That is if you’re still coming back to my room.”
“You’re asking me?”
“Well, yeah. It’s still your choice. I can’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.”
“Easton, there’s no place I’d rather be.”
Had you told me this morning I would end up ditching Easton for Lincoln and then almost drowning in the ocean only to be saved by the guy I tried to walk away from, I’d say you are certifiably crazy. Only I can’t say that, because that’s exactly what happened.
“You’re sure you’ll be okay?”
I tell Easton, “Yes,” for the third time in the last five minutes. He has a meeting with his boss, and from the look in his eye, it’s an important one. Most likely, it’s about the contract—since the time has come to make his decision about the band. “I’ll be fine. I’m always making you late—hurry up.”
He runs his hand over his slightly sunburned face and nods his head. “If you’re sure.”
“You heard the doctor, I’ll be out of here in fifteen minutes.”
Before Easton can argue, the nurse who has helped me since they wheeled me on the ship shows him to the door. I mouth a silent, “thank you.” As much as I don’t want him to leave, he has someplace more important to be.
