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Vincent hasn’t had my body. Not completely anyway. But he does have my heart. And I either need to go get it back, or I need to know he’s going to take care of it.
Mind made up, I stand suddenly, glancing over at Emma as I grab my sarong and wrap it around my hips. “Which bungalow is he in? The one next to yours again, right?”
She nods, a slow smile breaking out across her face as she cheers me on. “Go get him, girl. Or go kick him in the nuts. Either way, I’ll be here for you when it’s all said and done.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, sticking my chin in the air as I turn and march across the hot sand to the garden path. I may not be very experienced with romantic relationships, but no one is going to ghost me and get away with it. No one. Not even Vincent fucking Moore.
21
VINCENT
Droplets of ice-cold water splash against my overheated skin, feeling like tiny shards of glass embedding themselves in me. I curse, but I don’t turn on the heat or get out of the shower. It felt like I was boiling out there when I went for my long-ass run, and while I was tempted to hit the ocean instead of the shower, Olivia is down there.
So shower it is. I just have to grit my teeth and take it because I’m not getting out until even my bones are shivering. If I do, I’ll just be sweaty again five minutes after I get out. The same goes for what will happen if I turn on the heat.
A long swim would’ve been so much better, but here I am, still pussying out whenever I see her. Sure, I only saw the back of her head, but I knew it was her, and since she was there, I booked it back to my fucking bungalow instead.
This last week, I’ve slowly been going crazy. Now that we’re in Spain, I finally have my own room again, but I’m still under strict orders not to leave the resort. Not that I would, even if they hadn’t made it crystal fucking clear that if I do, I’ll be bunking with my parents for the rest of the tour.
Still, it’s not even that that’s been fucking with my head. It’s Olivia. I’ve been apart from her now for as long as we were… whatever we were. Together, I guess. I thought the insanity of convincing myself I was in love with her would’ve faded by now, but—
A loud banging at my door jerks me out of my thoughts. I scowl, wondering who the fuck wants what from me now. I swear it’s like everyone has taken it upon themselves to constantly check up on me under the guise of needing something from me.
Deciding to ignore it, I step farther into the icy spray and lean my head back, rubbing my hands over my face to rinse off the sweat. I’m just reaching for my body wash when the banging starts up again.
“Vincent!” Olivia’s faint voice reaches me, and my heart nearly fucking stops when I realize it’s her at the door. “I know you’re in there.”
How?I’m tempted to yell back, but then she’ll definitely know I’m here. I groan, wondering why the hell she had to seek me out now while I’m naked and wanting nothing more than her.
“Vincent! I’m not leaving until I talk to you, so you might as well open up so we can get it over with.”
Fuck.She sounds serious. Still, if she wants to sit out there for the rest of the day, that’s fine by me. It’ll be the closest I’ve been to her in a week, and even if we’ll be separated by the walls, I’ll take it.
Squeezing a generous amount of body wash into my palm, I lather myself up and try not to think about her standing right outside that door while I’m doing it. My brain gets it, but my dick doesn’t. That primal part of me knows she’s so close, probably in a fucking bikini and her skin all warmed by the sun, and that part can’t fucking stop thinking about what it’d feel like to pull her into my arms right now. When I glance down at my cock and see my piercing, I’m reminded of how intrigued she was by it, and the memories are going to make me hard if I don’t stop thinking about it. Right fucking now.
“Vincent! You asshole! Just open the fucking door.”
I sigh, glancing down at my half-erect cock and the suds washing down the length of my body. As much as I’ve missed her, I’ve also missed fucking with her. And if this is what she wants… Well, maybe I’m not the only one who has to be tortured by the other.
A slow smile spreads on my lips as I shut off the water and grab a towel, not drying myself as I step out of the cubicle and fasten it around my hips.
“Vince—”
“Keep your fucking panties on,” I call, leaving a trail of wet footprints behind me as I head across the room. “I’m coming!”
Finally, there’s silence. I wrap my hand around the back of my neck as I walk, squeezing as I wonder if I’m making a mistake. Maxim told me to find him before I talked to her, but I’m pretty sure he’s in the sea with our dad and a bunch of the others right now, which means that’s not an option.
Especially not since she’s already here, apparently hell-bent on talking to meright now. I sigh, but at the end of the day, this is my business. Not his. I get what he was worried about back in Switzerland, but I took the week. I’ve been thinking about little other than her and how I feel about her, and I’m sure about it now.
I’m not sure how it’s going to be received, but maybe if she sees I’m naked and wet, she’ll run, and I can use my brother as a soundboard before I find her and tell her the truth. And if not, well, I’m tired of this. I either want her in my life or not. This purgatory bullshit isn’t good for me. At least if she sends me to hell, I’ll know where she stands. And therefore, I’ll know where I stand.
I’m all ready to go—until I open the door and find her standing less than a foot away from me. For the first time in days that have felt like months, she’s close enough that I can touch her, and I still can’t.
Her cheeks are slightly flushed from a morning spent on the beach, and her skin already has that reddish tinge to it that tells me she’s going to be a shade tanner by tomorrow morning. Blue eyes blazing and her hair thrown up in a messy knot on top of her head, she’s so fucking beautiful, and somehow, even though I’ve known what she looks like my entire life, I’m caught completely off guard.
She’s wearing a pale-blue bikini, the glittery triangles over her tits barely covering her nipples. Okay, well, that’s not entirely true. As far as bikinis go, hers isn’t particularly small, but it feels like there’s a caged beast deep down inside me pounding his chest because all the other guys have seen that much of her.
A sheer white sarong with little beads on it is tied around her waist, and underneath it, I can see matching bikini bottoms. As she pushes me inside and marches into my bungalow uninvited, I spot the wordsassyprinted over her ass, and my eyes nearly bug out of my head.
