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I mean, I could. But I shouldn’t. And I won’t.
I pack my clothes into my bag and head back out to the pool, where Ben is sitting in his swim trunks and a T-shirt.
“Hey, I didn’t”
“Can we please pretend that didn’t happen? I want to grab some sunset photos and I thought we could clean up and head back to the hotel after that?”
He looks conflicted, but nods. “Yeah. Okay if I walk to the beach with you?”
“Of course. You don’t want to miss this sunset.”
Chipper, unbothered Stella is back. Outwardly I’m smiling and making small talk as we finish our visit to the beach house and ride back to the Paradise Palms.
I need to talk to Claire about these feelings I’m having for Ben, and not by text. I’d prefer not to send written proof of my shameless pool dry humping...or was it wet humping, I guess? Ugh, even worse.
I’m too tired from the day in the sun to sneak off for a call, though. Hopefully tomorrow’s waterfall hike isn’t an all-day thing, and I can slip away afterward for a call.
Claire was once dumped on the first day of a cruise with a boyfriend. She’ll know how to make me feel better about Ben’s rejection.
Chapter Twelve
Ben
* * *
“Venti?”
I nod at the coffee cup in Rowan’s hand as he approaches me in the lobby seating area where I’m waiting for Stella. He usually starts the day with a small coffee.
“I almost ordered two,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m not giving Dom the satisfaction of knowing how hungover I am, but fuck.”
I laugh. “I can hang with him for a night, but I don’t think I could do a week.”
“He got us an invite to a party on a yacht with a bunch of swimsuit models tonight, so I can’t complain.”
“Nice.”
He sits down across from me. “You can’t sleep late, either?”
“No. All those years of five a.m. practices six days a week stayed with me. I slept ‘til seven, that’s late for me.”
“So how’s married life?”
I trust Rowan, but right now I don’t feel like going into the explanation that I’m not actually married. Truthfully, I’m kind of living this fantasy myself, for the few days I can.
In my fantasy, though, things would’ve happened much differently in the pool yesterday. For the first time since we arrived, Stella closed the door that divides the bedroom from the rest of the suite last night, and I laid on the couch and ran through all the ways I wished it could have gone.
None of them involved immediate sex. I would’ve given Stella just enough to keep her in that maddeningly sexy state of arousal. Kissing and teasing and just enough touching to make her whimper for more. Definitely lots of dirty talk about what I planned to do later.
Instead, I went to bed with a painful erection—again—and got four hours of fitful sleep.
“We spent the day at a secluded beach house yesterday and my wife went topless,” I tell Rowan, which is mostly not a lie. “It was one of the best days of my life.”
“That’s awesome, man. What are you guys doing today?”
I look at my watch. “Our group is due to meet up in the lobby in a little bit and we’re going on a hike to a waterfall.”
My teammate grins. “You don’t seem like the type to spend time with a group on your honeymoon. It’s nice of you to do that for your wife.”
“She’s the one person in the world who could ask me to shave my head bald and I’d immediately start looking for clippers. Wouldn’t even ask why.”
“Good morning, handsome,” a voice says from nearby. “Where’s your lovely wife?”
I turn to see Sean, and an alarm sounds in my head. If he calls me Owen or says anything about me being an attorney in front of Rowan, I’m fucked.
“Hey, good morning,” I say. “She wanted to sleep as late as possible, she’ll be down soon. Row, this is my friend Sean, and Sean, this is my friend Row.”
“Nice to meet you, Sean.” Rowan stands to shake his hand.
I stand. “Your timing couldn’t be better, Sean. I was actually hoping you could help me pick out a Hawaiian shirt from that little shop on the other side of the lobby. Something you think Stella might like.”
He laughs. “If you were my husband, I’d like an invisible one.”
“I’ll see you, man,” I say to Rowan, clapping Sean on the back and leading him toward the store.
In reality, I didn’t want a Hawaiian shirt, but by the time Stella walks into the lobby nearly an hour later, I’m carrying a bag with not only a shirt, but also a gift for her that Sean helped me choose from another lobby boutique.
“Morning,” she says, her eyes only meeting mine for a second before she looks away.
