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Over dinner, Wes filled me in on some of the relatives I’d be meeting during the week. This included a bunch of aunts, uncles, and cousins whose names I forgot immediately. It also included his last surviving grandparent, famous neurosurgeon and all-around god among men Davis Stanton Bennett. He was the inventor of the aptly named Bennett procedure, which Wes explained to me twice and I still didn’t understand.
The entire conversation was friendly and impersonal. It felt a lot like a new hire’s introduction to a company—as it should have, really. At that point we were basically just employer and employee, as the two rooms indicated.
After the meal, which was fussy and involved several things I couldn’t identify, we went up to our rooms and said goodnight. It was just after ten p.m. local time, but Wes looked beat.
My room was right next to his. It was light and airy, with an all-glass back wall that probably provided an amazing view of the beach when it was light out.
I decided I desperately needed a shower, and on my way into the bathroom I sent Jasper a text letting him know I’d made it to Bora Bora. I figured he might be asleep since it was one a.m. in San Francisco, but he answered right away with: How is it so far?
My reply said: Flying sucked and I made an ass of myself but we made it. Haven’t seen much of the island since it was dark when we arrived. We’re in a gorgeous hotel for one night, meeting the fam tomorrow. He booked us separate rooms, all very professional.
Jasper would consider that last part a good thing. I didn’t agree, but here we were.
We shot a few more messages back and forth before saying goodnight. Then I stripped down and took a long, hot shower before dressing in a pair of shorts and a T-shirt.
Not surprisingly, I wasn’t tired at all after sleeping on the plane. I pocketed my room key and headed to the beach, figuring a walk might tire me out enough to actually get some sleep. But once I got there, I ended up just standing with my bare feet in the water.
Bora Bora was actually a cluster of islands, not one like I’d believed before I did some research to prepare for this trip. The largest island was surrounded by a thin ring of land that was roughly shaped like a broken horseshoe. I was actually on that outer barrier island, facing the tranquil lagoon, and somewhere ahead of me was the biggest of the islands.
It was pretty incredible, even in the dark. A gentle breeze stirred the palm trees, the water was warm, and the sandy beach was pristine and inviting. It would have been the perfect romantic setting, but here I was, single as could be. Because I was a melodramatic dork, I belted out a few lines of “All by Myself” at the top of my lungs—the original 1975 Eric Carmen version, obviously.
Okay, enough of that. I turned and started walking back to the hotel, but then I spotted Wes in his room and stopped in my tracks. He’d changed into shorts and a tank top, and he was pacing back and forth. I wondered what he was thinking about.
Every part of me wanted to go to him. I knew there was a good chance he’d fuck me if I showed up at his door and threw myself at him, but I wanted to be more than a booty call. I sure as hell wanted to be more than a pair of polite strangers on a business trip of sorts, too.
I’d liked Wes from the start. After spending the early part of the week with him, I’d actually started to believe we had a shot at growing this thing between us into something real. The mutual attraction had been undeniable, and so was our connection.
I was dying to know what had changed for him in the last couple of days, but now just wasn’t the time for this discussion. He already had to deal with the upcoming wedding, seeing his ex again, and spending time with his judgmental family. But once this trip was behind us, I planned to have a talk with him and lay it all on the line. I had no idea what would come of that, but I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell him how I felt.
I also fully intended to give him his money back. It just felt wrong to keep it after the time we’d spent together and the bond we’d formed, but that could wait until we were back home, too. For now, I wanted him to keep believing everything was as he’d planned, because he probably needed that sense of security.
Wes abruptly left his room, which was surprising. I wondered where he’d gone. Then he reappeared a few moments later and went right back to pacing. He repeated this, and when he returned he seemed agitated. He pushed his dark hair from his face with both hands, squared his shoulders, and left the room a third time, looking like he’d made up his mind about something.
