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Bold, beautiful Tamara.
I haven’t seen her in weeks. We work in different areas of the resort, after all, so that’s to be expected. I sweat through hikes in the jungle; meanwhile, she earns big tips working in the Bistro, likely in no small part because of the way she looks. She’s manicured and polished. Primping clearly comes easily to her. We’re outside by the pool, the humidity in the air is at an all-time high, but her blonde hair looks sleek and shiny, completely untroubled by the natural elements.
It must be her off day too. She’s wearing a bathing suit and a barely there cover-up that clings to her body. Her entire demeanor screams effortless confidence. When Cole turns his body to fully face her, something akin to jealousy wraps its talons around my throat.
Tamara smiles at Cole, striking up a conversation, and it seems so genuine and easy for her, I don’t know how she does it.
Cole is not an easy man to get along with, and yet Tamara seems to have no trouble at all. She talks animatedly about something. Then there’s a big laugh, and she leans forward to playfully touch his arm.
The moment comes when she should pull back, but she doesn’t.
Her red nailstightenon his biceps.
I must make a sound because Lara asks, “You good?”
I hold my breath waiting for Cole to reach over and pry her hand off him, finger by finger. But he doesn’t do it. He doesn’t balk or push her away. Heletsher touch him.
Having had enough, I look away from them and down my drink in one fast go. “Come on, I’m done swimming. Let’s go play tennis.”
I want to hit some balls really,reallyhard.
Chapter Eight
PAIGE
I’m carrying a deep, dark secret. It’s bad.Badderthan bad.
Two months ago, Cole and I kissed.
I know.
It’s wild even to me, and I’ve had plenty of time to come to terms with it. This is the sole occasion where the shocked-exploding-head emoji is absolutely accurate.
The morning of THE KISS, I didn’t wake up knowing I was going to kiss my enemy. We weren’t like building up toward it or anything. Our relationship then is much the same as it is now, i.e., anenemyship built on mutual loathing and deep admiration. Neither of us will ever, and I meanever, cop to the second part. It would set in motion a sequence of events that would result in the death of every man, woman, and child here on earth. Or something equally bad, probably.
If I had known that day that I would be kissing Cole, I would have hiked my covers up over my head and just stayed in bed. No,wait. I would have taken the opportunity to borrow Poison Ivy’s evil lipstick. I wonder if there’s a dupe for it online ...
The kiss just sort of happened, and here’s how. Everything leading up to that point was absolutely normal. I worked a standard day at theresort: I led a group through the caverns of the Conch Bar Caves in the morning and then took a family out paddleboarding through Chalk Sound National Park in the afternoon. After dinner, I played tennis with Lara, Camila, and Théo. By the time I was ready to call it quits, they were still going strong, so I was solo on my walk along the pebble path back toward staff housing.
I love my walk home. It’s a really nice feature of the resort. When the head honchos were designing the place, they tried their hardest to adapt the entire complex to integrate with nature rather than steal from it. Instead of bulldozing through the dense foliage that surrounds much of the shoreline, they wove the resort paths through it so that at any moment you could be greeted by lizards, or frogs, or huge colorful iguanas just chillin’.
Another pretty feature is that every few yards, the dense wall of tropical flowers and vines grows thin enough that you can see the stunning view of the ocean at night. That night, I was halfway back to my dorm when the vining flowers grew thin enough that I could make out someone sitting on the beach, alone in the dark.
I immediately recognized the back of Cole’s head like I would recognize the back of my own hand. If pressed, I could probably individually identify every single strand of hair.
Curious, I stopped and turned so I could take a step closer toward the beach. He was down close to the water, sitting on the sand with his knees bent up so he could drape his arms casually around them, his hands clasped together in the middle. The waves rolled in, and he sat stock still, like he was deep in thought, contemplative, clearly needing to be alone.
For a moment, I stood there, frozen with indecision.
I’d never seen Cole sitting on the beach alone at night before. It felt like a rare opportunity I couldn’t—shouldn’t—pass up. On the other hand, it probably made much more sense to just keep walking and leave him in peace.
I started to do just that, but I only made it a few steps before I stopped short again. My mind was suddenly firmly made up.
I’ve wondered about this pivotal moment a hundred times.
I technically made the first move by leaving the pebble path, slipping off my shoes, and traipsing out onto the sand to join him.
He heard me coming, I’m sure. I wasn’t being quiet. In fact, I hoped he knew I was coming so I didn’t have to suffer the disappointment on his face when he looked up and saw that it was me. But he never turned back, and when he finally did acknowledge me, he didn’t groan in protest, but he also didn’t make any indication that he was happy to see me.
