Page 89 of Hate To Be Mine

Bubbles.

And then nothing.

What the hell?

I thought back to the last time I talked to her. It was right after the shoot. Oh shit.

I had basically ignored her when my family showed up. We all went off to dinner and I never said a word to her. That was a dick move and explained why I was being ignored.

Me: Can I see you? Would love to celebrate the shoot.

I was left unread.

I walked back toward my bungalow, the warm night air doing nothing to ease the growing knot in my stomach. I fucked up this afternoon. I knew I had. The way I introduced her to my family like she was just another contractor instead of the woman I was in love with.

I had dismissed her. I couldn’t even say when she walked away. I’d been too caught up talking to my family. But I had introduced her without thinking about it. She was the insurance rep after all.

What was I supposed to say? “As you all expected, I couldn’t keep it in my pants for two weeks, and this is the insurance rep I’ve been sleeping with.”

Bernadette would have been pissed if I said that in front of my mother. In front of Adrian, who was already skeptical about me mixing business with pleasure. Not to mention Briggs, who loved rules more than he loved me.

I had chosen the safe option. And hurt her in the process. I wasn’t good at the whole feelings thing. I had never really had to consider the feelings of the women I was sleeping with. It was careless and selfish. I could see that now, but in the moment, it didn’t occur to me.

Some of the crew had gathered outside their bungalows, celebrating the end of the shooting phase. Music played from someone’s Bluetooth speaker. Bottles clinked. Laughter echoed across the resort grounds. A couple people were dancing.

Normally, I would have been right there with them. Back when I was just a model, I would have been the life of the party. Drinking, flirting, and probably looking for a cute local girl or one of the models to spend the night with.

But now, there was only one woman I wanted to see. Only one person I wanted to celebrate with. And she wasn’t answering my texts.

I needed to talk to her. I was going to tell her how I felt. She needed to know that I wanted more. I needed more. Maybe we would have to wait until we were back in the city to make it official. Could that be her issue and why she kept running away from me? It had to be a conflict of interest for her to date a client, right?

I was in love with her, and it was time she knew.

I heard laughter and my head snapped toward the sound. I didn’t have to look to see who it was. I would know that musical sound anywhere.

Bernadette.

She was with a group of crew members, holding a plastic cup in her hand. Judging by her flushed cheeks and the laughter I had never heard before, I was guessing she’d had more than one drink. She seemed relaxed. I’d seen her look like that exactly two times before—right after I gave her some amazing orgasms.

Her hair was still down from the photoshoot, and she was wearing one of those sundresses that was way too sexy for her to be wearing in mixed company. She looked beautiful. And drunk.

Rico, one of the backup photographers, a guy I’d never particularly liked, was standing way too close to her. He was sizing her up. He was stripping her with his eyes and I had every intention of removing his eyeballs with a spoon. Okay. No. That was gross. But dammit, I did want to punch him until his eyes were too swollen to see.

I started walking over, telling myself to stay calm. I couldn’t go all caveman. I knew that would piss her off and Rico would just file a complaint and probably end up suing my ass.

So, I would be good.

I hung back. Something told me I needed to be on standby. Maybe it was experience with the guy. I was pretty sure he slept with more models than I had. He was good at his job, but he was an asshole. People worked with him because when he was behind the camera, he did his job well.

I shouldn’t have brought him. There were hundreds of photographers I could have used. Bringing him to a quiet island with a bunch of women was a bad idea. Of course he was going to hit on any and all of them, including mine.

Walk away, Sebastian. She’s a big girl.

If she wanted to talk to me, she would. I needed to let her have her moment. She was pissed at me and needed me to know it. I wouldn’t call it a tantrum, but she was certainly putting me in my place.

Then I heard what he was saying.

“Come on, beautiful. Just a few more pictures. In my bungalow. The lighting’s better there. More private.”