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We get out of bed and head to the shower and my phone starts ringing. I ignore Quinn’s tone and walk into the hot water with Bryce, rubbing my body against his.
The shower takes longer than expected and when we finally get our suits on and are ready for the beach I have five missed calls and a slew of text messages. I decide to check the texts first.
Quinn: Bitch! Check your email. We were both accepted to the summer program. You have to call me soon!
Me: I just got out of shower. BRB
Quinn: You may want to lay Bryce down. This isn’t good, but amazing for our future.
My stomach drops and I sit on the arm of the sofa.
Me: Tell me!
Quinn: No—open the email.
I scroll through my email and find the message I’m looking for.
The opening is pretty generic, congratulating me on acceptance and telling me the details, including the financials and credits received. It’s not until I get to the location that my heart stops. The description of the project is outlined and my enthusiasm starts to rise. I see myself in this environment and bringing the stories for my future projects.
But no one is going to support this. My parents are going to have a fit and Nate will forbid. But I don’t care. My enthusiasm spikes.
I text Quinn immediately.
Me: I’m in! You?
Quinn: No doubt. But only with you. Talk to your fiancé first. Not confirming until you have his approval.
Me: I’ll be fine!
“Are you done yet?” Bryce nips my neck and stands in front of me in his swimsuit and nothing else. His chiseled chest makes me lick my lips, and I almost forget my news.
“I got accepted to the programs I applied for.” I wave my phone, and he takes it.
As he scrolls through the message, his expression goes from excited to shocked when he finishes then hands my phone back.
His stance gets solid, and he crosses his arms across his chest. “No way! Absolutely not. You are not going to Israel! You think I’m going to let my fiancée travel to a country in absolute chaos?”
“I think you need to calm down. I’ll be with a guided troupe, and we’ll be fine. It says in the email that we have designated families to interview.”
“I’m not letting the love of my life go willingly into the Middle East? No! Over my dead fucking body.”
My mind rages. There’s no way I’m giving up this opportunity. He may think he’s dealing with the sweet and sassy Devon, but he’s wrong. This is a chance that could shape my future. I may love this man with all my heart, but I’m going to Israel, with or without his support.
Game On…
Chapter 1
As soon as we drive into my parents’ neighborhood, I start to fidget. It’s been five days since we’ve spoken because I’ve purposely avoided their calls. Exactly like Bryce, they freaked out when I told them about the trip to Israel. And as expected, Nate
called me within ten minutes of hanging up with them and went bat-shit crazy. His exact words were, ‘I absolutely, positively, fucking forbid you to participate in this summer program’.
I listened to all of them lecture me on the danger involved until I finally had enough. We agreed to drop the subject for the rest of my vacation, then I’d sit down and logically discuss the pros and cons of the program. This seemed to appease them because they thought I’d given in. But in reality, I’d only delayed the inevitable rip-roaring argument that was bound to happen.
I replay that morning in my mind and wonder again if I’m being selfish.
Bryce paced the room and alternated between running his hands through his short hair and shaking his head. After five minutes, he finally looked at me and my heart hurt. His eyes were glassy and his expression pained. He knew what photojournalism meant to me and, subsequently, the subject matter of social and cultural issues. And I knew in that moment, he was going to try to talk me out of it, but in the end, he’d support my decision.
“Bryce, can we put this aside for the rest of the week and enjoy the beach?” I asked softly.
