Part of me wants to.
Part of me wants to figure out how to relax.
“Not yet. Thanks, Clive. I better get to my breakfast while it’s hot.”
He nods and excuses himself, and I sit down to my breakfast as I look out over the view of the beach.
I sip my coffee and make my decision for day one: the pool. Not a cabana yet. I’ll check out the state of thingsfirst before I decide on that. Besides, it’s already after ten. I doubt any would be available this late in the morning.
When I get down there, I find the towel hut first and help myself to two. I walk around the perimeter of the pool, looking for an open lounge chair. It’s crowded, especially if I want a chair that doesn’t have someone sitting directly next to itandoffers some shade. I spot a couple on the other side from where I’m standing, so I start my trek over there.
I’m rounding the far side of the pool when I hear a voice that sounds familiar, and I turn in her direction.
My eyes fall onto a woman with dark hair currently pulled back into a ponytail as she talks to her phone. She’s wearing sunglasses and a red bikini with white polka dots, and I’d recognize that body anywhere.
I take a step toward her, but it’s the words coming out of her mouth that have me pausing mid-step.
“I had to leave a perfectly warm bed far too early, but resort yoga was absolutely worth it. My instructor this morning was Tati, and there’s really nothing like sun salutations on the beach in paradise. Ten out of ten, highly recommend. I followed that up with breakfast in the Coast Tower, and—” She freezes as she spots me standing a few feet away from her chair.
This doesn’t seem like a phone call.
When you’re talking to someone on the phone, you wait for them to reply, but she doesn’t.
I can’t tell if she’s filming a video or if she’s actually live right now on social media.
But…why?
“And that was fantastic, too. Check out this morning’s carousel post for more. That’s all for now, champagne travelers! Catch you with more Millie’s Miles soon.” She presses a button on her phone and stands to greet me. “Archer! Hi! I tried to get back up to your room this morning, but I didn’t have the key for the elev—”She stops mid-word. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“What are you doing?”
“I was on a live,” she says.
“A live?” My brows push together in confusion.
She clears her throat and leans in a little, the scent of coconuts from her sunscreen taking over my senses. That, paired with the way her cleavage is glistening and those perfect tits covered by a bikini top with just enough exposed to help my imagination run wild, pulses an ache deep within me.
Until her next words.
“I’m a travel blogger. Or, a travelinfluencernow, I guess.” Her voice is low, as if she doesn’t want anyone around us to hear what she’s doing. “The resort is comping my stay in exchange for content.”
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. Harder than that, even. It’s like I was following the ball and ran smack into the outfield wall instead of paying attention to my surroundings.
That entire sentence, this entire situation, all of it feels so…wrong.
Like she deceived me. Like I was nothing more than a chance for her to go viral.
Fuck.
Wait a minute.
Did she know who I was? Is that why she sat with me last night?
“What the fuck?” I snarl. “I’m here trying to lay low, and you’re here trying to go viral?”
“I mean, yeah, viral is always a target, but back up a second. Why are you here trying to lay low?”
“Like you don’t know,” I hiss. “Stay away from me.”
