Page 29 of Special Delivery

“Me? I’m great. How are you? You did lose the competition, after all.”

She lets out a hearty chuckle before waving me off. “Oh, you know me. Just happy to be a part of the game.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s why we lost,” Jordan comments, and Emma slaps her shoulder playfully.

“But you and Ryan…” Emma continues. “Whew. The sparks were flying…” I level her with a glare so she adds, “From how fast and efficient you were, of course.” She winks, and I know her head is full of completely unrealistic scenarios of me ending up together with our new stepbrother. Ew.

By the time we get back to our villa, my back and shoulders are burning up. Each motion stretches my skin uncomfortably, and I know this will be a painful night.

“Don’t worry. I have just the thing for it. An aloe vera gel that works wonders,” Kim says as I wince while getting out of the golf cart. “Ryan, come with us to our cabin so you can bring her the gel.”

“Sure,” Ryan grits out through his teeth, obviously overjoyed at being my little helper.

I robot walk to the door, avoiding moving my shoulders as much as I can. Warm water is torture on my damaged skin, so I opt for something I vowed not to take—a cold shower. The cool water feels like a gentle caress, giving me a reprieve from the burn.

Drying off with a towel seems insurmountable, so I pat my back a few times and wrap the towel loosely around me. As soon as I get on the bed, a knock appears at my door. I’m guessing it’s Ryan with the gel.

“Just leave it outside the door;” I call out, my voice breaking when I try to turn my neck toward it.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m not…” I start to say, but he adds, “Are you decent?”

“Sort of.”

The doorknob clicks as he enters, my back turned to it. “Shit, Paige. It looks horrible.”

Humiliation laces my throat. “Gee, thanks.”

“You know what I mean. It must hurt like a motherfucker.”

I let out a low chuckle, still not looking at him. “It does.”

“I brought you the gel.” He finally comes into my line of vision, placing the gel carefully onto the nightstand.

“Thank you. Can you please call Jordan or Emma? I need some help with it.”

“Sure.” The sound of his footsteps fades.

Is it possible that I’m embarrassing myself in front of him once again? Sitting on the bed half-naked, while angry red burns adorn my usually pale skin? Still, the discomfort is too great to dwell on it.

I let out a relieved sigh when another pair of footsteps approaches.

“Sorry, I think they’re in the shower.” He points a thumb toward their room. “They’re not answering the door. By the sound of the shower, and, well, giggles, I’d say they’re in there together.”

“Great.” My shoulders drop, causing another fit of pain.

“Look, I can do it.” He sounds like he’s steeling himself for it, which only humiliates me more.

I turn toward him, ignoring the pain. “Really? You were less than thrilled to even bring the gel to the villa, and now you’re offering to massage it into my skin?”

“I’m not offering a massage.” He lifts both of his hands in surrender motion. “And I wasn’t aware your burns were so severe before. Besides, don’t put this on me. Your behavior toward me is so unpredictable that I don’t know how to act most of the time. You’re rude and distant, then you undress me with your eyes.” I scoff, but he keeps talking. “You hug me, and then you’re back to being distant. So, consider this not a friendly offer, but a humanitarian one. You’re hurt, and I’m a good person who wants to help you.”

His words blare in my head like an alarm, but I have nothing to say in my defense. “Fine,” I murmur instead.

The bed dips from his weight as he settles behind me before reaching for the gel. He’s right. I’m not proud of the way I’m acting, but he doesn’t know the full story. He doesn’t know what Jordan and I have been through with Dad’s previous marriages, nor how much I hate deceit in relationships.

As the cooling gel touches the surface of my flesh, a whimper bubbles out of me. Ryan inhales deeply before placing his palms on my shoulders. As promised, he doesn’t give me a massage. Instead, he applies the gel almost clinically, but a moan still fights to escape my throat. It feels so fucking good that my eyes close and my nipples pebble. He covers my burned back with the gel, closes the bottle, and places it back on my nightstand.