Page 54 of Spring Break Fling

I groaned again, pressing the heels of my hands against my eyes. “I don’t like him. I like unraveling the mystery. He’s complicated, and it’s fascinating. That’s all.”

“Oh, honey,” Rachel said, laughing softly. “You are so screwed.”

My friends’ laughter echoed through the speakers. I felt my cheeks burning hotter. They were basically talking amongst themselves about me while I watched. A part of me wanted to confess everything. How Nikko’s smile made my stomach flip, or how his intense gaze made me feel seen in ways I hadn’t realized I was hiding from.

“Okay, okay, you vultures,” I finally surrendered, waving a hand dismissively at the screen. “Maybe I like him a little. But it doesn’t change anything.”

“Exploring things?” Rachel echoed.

“Guys, I don’t know.” I sighed.

“Bad idea,” Maddie said.

“Real bad,” Rachel agreed.

“Why?” I asked. “I just want to know about his past. There’s no harm in getting to know a guy. Find out what makes him tick.”

“Yeah, every bad boy’s past makes a girl like you want to fix him,” Tara said. “It’s a character flaw.”

“What?” I asked.

“Women are preprogrammed to nurture,” she said as if she actually knew. “We see a wounded animal, lost kid, or a damaged guy and we want to fix them.”

“It’s not that,” I said, but even my own ears could hear how weak that defense was.

Tara leaned forward. Her face filling the whole square. “He branded you. Took ownership of part of your body without your permission. How are you not still angry?”

“I am,” I said but I knew it wasn’t true anymore. How did that happen? Logically, I knew I should be pissed. But in my heart, I wasn’t. I was almost… glad.

Ew. I cringed at how toxic I was being.

I needed to try and get my friends to understand my position. “I thought I’d be able to focus, but I’m… I’m thinking about him. The whole date at the gallery, the way he looked at me, the way he kept trying to get to know me. I didn’t expect it.”

“Wait, so the bad boy is a softie underneath?” Tara teased.

“No,” I said quickly. “It’s just… different. He actually listened, Tara. He wasn’t trying to get me back in bed. Not like last time.”

Tara snorted in disbelief. “I’m sorry. Not trying to get you back in bed? Are you telling me this guy doesn’t want another round with you?”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “Don’t start with me. I swear, you’re impossible. But no. It’s not like that. He seems more interested in me, not just my body. Like maybe he’s not just playing games this time. He didn’t try and kiss me. There was no suggestion of sex. It was like an actual date.”

Tara laughed lightly, clearly unconvinced. “Uh huh. So, what’s the game plan now? Are you falling for him, or what?”

“No!” I said, the word too loud in the quiet of my hotel room. I took a deep breath and forced myself to calm down. “I’m not falling for him, Tara. I’m not making that mistake again. This is about revenge. He messed up my tattoo, so I’m going to make him regret it. He’s going to fall for me, not the other way around. I need to make that happen.”

I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. My friends or myself.

Before I could respond, a knock at the door startled me. I frowned, glancing at my phone. “Hang on, someone’s here.”

I opened the door cautiously. No one was there, but on the floor sat a small package wrapped in plain brown paper. I picked it up, frowning, and shut the door behind me. I didn’t have to guess who sent it. It seemed to be his MO.

“What is it?” Tara asked as I sat back down on the bed.

I tore the paper off, revealing a framed print of a watercolor tattoo design. The same one from the art gallery.

My stomach did a weird flip as I stared at it. The delicate lines, the bold use of color—it was the piece I’d spent ages studying at the exhibit, the one I couldn’t stop talking about. I kept gravitating back toward the piece all night.

There was a note tucked into the frame. I unfolded it carefully.