He kisses me like this isn’t temporary, like whatever is happening between us doesn’t end when this week does.
And for the first time since we stepped into this, I let myself believe it might not.
EIGHTEEN
Meadow
The afternoon slips away quicker than I’ve been sucking down my piña coladas—entirely too fast if you ask me.
Owen and I haven’t moved from the beach all day.
A couple of hours ago, we wandered down to a cute little oceanside shack for a late lunch. We ordered greasy fish tacos and crisp Coca-Colas, scarfing down every last bite while standing barefoot in the sand.
I smile to myself as I replay Owen sneaking bites off my plate when I wasn’t looking. I kept swatting his hand away, even though I secretly loved our little game.
We’ve talked about everything and nothing, rotating from lounging in our beach chairs to hanging out waist-deep in the ocean. Owen could be talking about something as basic as the color of the sky, and I’d still hang on to every word.
There’s a new, comfortable shift between us now. The sexual tension isobviouslystill there, but it no longer feels like we’re walking on a tightrope, afraid to fall into the unknown.
We’re currently sitting on our asses in the sand, our toes buried deep as the waves roll in. My head drifts onto Owen’s shoulder as I let out a contented sigh.
I’ve never been happier than I am in this very moment. I wish we could just stay forever. Say screw Chicago and our jobs and just… stay.
I’m positive our families wouldn’t sign off on that, though. My mom would have a full-blown meltdown, and honestly, I’d miss her too.
The sun begins its descent as the blinding rays fade into a dreamy, golden glow.
“Here it is,” Owen murmurs, nudging his shoulder against mine as the horizon blooms with pinks and oranges.
I glance at him. “Huh?”
“Your sunset,” he grins, flashing me a wink. “Remember, you said you wanted to watch it on our first night here?”
I chew on my bottom lip, trying to conceal my silly little smile because he remembered.
“I was wondering why you’d kept us out here all day,” I tease, nuzzling closer.
“Are you kidding? I wasn’t going to let you miss this,” he replies, stretching his legs out in invitation.
I instinctively slide over, settle between his thighs, and lean back into his chest. His strong arms wrap around me like a cocoon, pulling me into his warm body. His chin rests on top of my head as his breath blows against my hair, carrying the scent of rich, dark rum.
Tangled together, we watch the sky shift colors in silent awe.
It’s indescribable. The kind of beauty that a photograph could never capture.
“This is unbelievable,” I whisper, slowly shaking my head.
Owen hums against me. “It really is. I had no idea the sky could turn so many colors all at once.”
He tightens his arms around me, and I reach up, curling my fingers around his corded forearms, dusted with blonde hair. We watch in silence as the sea breeze dances against us.
“I can’t believe we only have two nights left,” I finally mutter.
Where has the time gone?
The instant the words leave my mouth, I feel Owen’s body stiffen around me.
Two nights—that’s all we have. Owen says nothing at first, but I feel the shift as his muscles go taut, and he pulls me closer, his breathing heavier as reality sets in.
