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“Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispers so softly before kissing my forehead, a kiss that transfers even more of himself to me.
Then he turns and walks out the door for the first time since I arrived. The moment was too much for either of us to handle. I’m not sure what it means, but I know that whatever that was, it wasn’t pretend.
And that scares the hell out me.
21
Sebastian
I spin my wedding ring around on my finger. It’s a type of ring I never thought I’d be wearing, and don’t even remember purchasing.
It’s still strange being married. And yet each time I’ve spoken to someone else—the nurse at the hospital, the waiter at dinner, the butler at the hotel—calling Millie my wife falls off my tongue easier and easier.
She isn’t my wife, in any sense of the word. We haven’t fucked. We’ve barely kissed. We know nothing about each other’s history. And for the past week, we’ve hardly talked to each other except when necessary. We know a line was crossed that day.
Our first kiss toed the line.
Our second pushed us over.
Our third sent us tumbling over a cliff.
Not to mention our experiences rescuing each other from death. There is no going back. No pretending that I can just be her asshole and her my wild plaything.
Something was stirred in both of us that day, some emotion that neither of us thought we could feel. And yet, we did.
But over the last few days, we’ve squashed any feelings we’ve had. The day Millie was released from the hospital, we went to different sides of the hotel suite and stayed there. I didn’t take care of her, and she didn’t pamper me. It was an unspoken agreement. We didn’t share a bed. We rarely ate dinner together. We both spent our days watching TV alone.
And it worked.
Now we can be in the same room and there are no longer any feelings, just sexual tension, exactly what I wanted.
“It’s still raining. Doesn’t look like we will get to enjoy the beach or go on any other adventures before we have to leave tomorrow,” Millie says.
I stand from the couch on my good leg and hobble over without the help of my crutches. After Millie woke up, I eventually got my ankle x-rayed. As the nurse told me, it was broken. Several weeks in the cast and then physical therapy after is my future.
I stare, getting lost in the beautif
ul woman with the strawberry streaks in her hair, the freckles, and a single bee sting on her neck. I’d break my ankle all over again if it meant saving her. I’d break every bone in my body for her.
That doesn’t mean I have feelings for her. It just means I don’t want to see a woman like her get hurt when I can do something to fix it.
“I don’t think we should go on any more adventures. The last one about killed us both,” I joke.
She laughs. Apparently, no joke is too soon with her, which makes her even more intriguing to me.
“Probably not. I think Mother Nature is trying to tell us we shouldn’t be together.”
“Nah, it’s just probably monsoon season or something.”
She shakes her head slowly. “That’s in the fall. It’s spring. I talked with the concierge, and he said that before we came, they hadn’t gotten more than a sprinkle in over a month. I think we are bad luck or something.”
I take a deep breath, and all I get is Millie. I haven’t been this close to her in days. I haven’t gotten the honor of smelling her. Her scent is always a little different each day. Some days she smells like lavender, other days peppermint, sometimes like the ocean, and then sometimes it’s sugar and spice. Today, she smells like fire, like spice, like want.
Millie is wearing jean shorts and a T-shirt, and I bet if I slipped a finger in her panties, she’d be wet. Maybe not because of me, but because sex is already on her brain.
“Actually, I think we should have one last adventure,” I say.
She folds her arms in front of her chest and looks at me. “You can’t be serious. It’s raining. Your cast can’t get wet. And I’m not taking any more chances that one of us gets hurt.”
