Page 54 of Waiting for You

"Yes," Xavier agreed instantly.

Everyone swiveled to stare at us in disbelief.

"You two were relaxing under the boat canopy," Simon pointed out.

"We were exposed to the sun," Xavier defended. "It's hot."

"We're staying at a private beach estate," Violet reminded us slowly. "In Hawaii."

"And we've experienced enough of it," I finalized. "Let's pack up."

The group groaned and laughed at our cowardice. Someone called us pathetic scaredy-cats. Andrew shook his head, a bright smile spreading across his face. But they packed up the gear and we headed back, which was the only victory that mattered.

We got back to the house just as everyone was sun-exhausted and coated in a fine layer of sand. I showered and slipped into a sleek black dress I'd packed for the humid evenings, and Andrew and I headed down to the dining pavilion.

Violet and Simon had already claimed their seats. Xavier was standing, pulling out a chair. I marched straight to the empty seat beside him and sat.

He turned his head to stare at me. "You're choosing not to sit next to Andrew?" he asked.

"Being in a relationship doesn't legally require us to be velcroed together at all times," I answered.

He glanced over his shoulder. Eliza and Andrew strolled into the pavilion behind us and claimed the two remaining chairs, which left them seated next to each other. Xavier read the arrangement, then turned his gaze back to me.

"Did you intentionally⁠—"

"I just wanted to continue our fascinating conversation," I interrupted with a sweet smile. "From the boat."

He went silent and stared down at the tablecloth.

"You have any more profound thoughts on what platonic friendship looks like?" I pushed.

"Not really," he muttered. "Do you?"

"Not really." I studied his profile a long beat. "Okay. Maybe I lied. Maybe the real reason I wanted to sit next to you is that I enjoy your company." I let the words hang. "Platonic friends are allowed to enjoy each other's company."

He turned to look at me, his jaw locked, his dark eyes steady and giving up nothing.

"Yes," he agreed, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper. "Friends can enjoy each other's company."

I rolled my eyes at him. He looked away, but I caught the corner of his mouth twitching up in a suppressed smile.

Across the table, Eliza and Andrew had fallen into an animated conversation, two near-strangers finding easy footing. The dinner noise drowned out their words, but I could read the shape of it, Eliza leaning forward with interest, Andrew gesturing with his hands, his chin tilted up in a laugh.

I should have been the one at Andrew's side, selling the picture of a woman who'd moved on. Instead I was here, at Xavier's elbow, exactly where I'd promised myself I wouldn't sit. The performance was already coming apart in my hands, and I couldn't make myself care.

Dinner wrapped, and the group migrated back through the humid, torch-lit corridors in pairs, everyone drifting toward their suites. Andrew fell into step beside me, and we walked in a comfortable, pressure-free silence for a while.

"So how'd you like today?" he asked.

"It was fine," I answered. "I don't love the beach."

He chuckled. "You agreed to fly to Hawaii and you hate the beach."

"I agreed to fly to Hawaii for the company," I corrected.

He let a long moment pass. "You and Xavier seem to have a lot in common," he observed.

"Just a few random things," I deflected.