Again, Joshua’s words haunt me.You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try.There are options for what that could mean, some better than others. Butsomethinghas to change—has to give. We can’t keep dancing around each other like there isn’t some sort of string tying us together, getting shorter and shorter by the day. I’m going to drive myself mad if I don’t do anything about it.
“Hey, actually, can we talk?” I say as she recovers from herlaughter. My heart picks up the pace, threatening to beat out of my chest, because what thefuckam I doing?
Stella glances at the clock on the wall. “We’re already late for dinner,” she says regretfully, clearly not knowing what’s coming for her. “What about when we get back?”
That will be far past midnight, and who knows how many drinks we’ll have had by then. It might help my cause, but there’s a chance it could also lead me to say all the wrong things.
Still, I swallow hard and murmur, “Yeah. Sure.”
But I don’t know how much longer I can hold this in.
I want to be with my wife—for real. Even if it’s just temporary. Even if it’s just for a night.
Even if that’s all I ever get.
Chapter 27
Stella
There’s something off with Thomas.
I hate that I realize it. And I hate that I’m desperate to do something about it. I wasn’t lying when I told him I like him better when he’s smiling, even if it’s for my own selfish reason of never wanting to see him upset, because I…like him.
Unfortunately, as I’ve come to realize over the past week, I am absolutely sprung for this man, saddled with a crush that can’t be swatted away like an annoying fly. It’s a devastating truth, but being with Thomas nearly every waking minute has shown me everything about him up close and personal.
My rules were supposed to prevent the development of any sort of feelings for him, but maybe I should have addedDon’t look at me, don’t talk to me, and certainly don’t smile at meto the list. Because even without sex, with limited intimacy and my attempts to focus mostly on work, he’s still found his way under my skin and planted roots.
I just hope I can rip them up without damaging myself when the time comes.
He’s quieter than usual through dinner, speaking only whenspoken to and nursing his whiskey on the rocks. I want to shift closer and ask what’s going on. It likely has something to do with whatever he wanted to talk to me about earlier, and I’m kicking myself now for insisting we head to dinner instead of staying to hear him out.
Then again, I think I might have an idea of what he was going to say, because the same thing’s been on my mind too.
Whatever this is between us is unignorable now, but I have to push it aside. Things will be easier once we’re back in London and back to our lives—back to reality and all the reasons why we need to keep this marriage strictly platonic. The reasons might be escaping me now, replaced by butterflies and sparks every time he laughs, but they’ll come back. I just can’t make any mistakes until then.
Amara declares that it’s time for dancing the second our plates are cleared away. Soon my hand is in hers as she drags me from the restaurant and out to the beachside bar, where a DJ and wide dance floor are set up on the sand. There are a few dozen people here already, most drinking, some dancing, and all enjoying the warmth of the night and the soft breeze that curls around us. It’s the perfect way to say goodbye to the past year and ring in the next.
When the boys catch up, Thomas tries to slip to my side, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me step back. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but it’s…heavy. Too heavy for the night that I want to have.
I hook my thumb over my shoulder in the direction of the bar. “I’m gonna go get drinks!” The music is loud, but I still say the words at an unnecessary volume. “You guys go grab us a place on the dance floor before it fills up.”
Amara loops her arms around Thomas and Joshua with a grin, and I suck in a much-needed breath as I turn away.Thomas and I can’t have whatever conversation he’s keen on cornering me for—not now and certainly not later when we’re alone in our bungalow. We only need to survive two more days of this unbearable pull between us before we can escape. We can do that, can’t we?
Slipping onto a stool, I lift a hand to signal to the bartender, who nods at me as he finishes up with his current patron. I keep breathing deeply as I wait, trying to bring down my anxiety, but it feels like a lost cause. I’mnervous. All because I can’t trust that I’ll make the right choice if Thomas confesses he feels the same way I do.
“You okay?”
I glance to my right at the question, finding a man leaning against the section of bar next to me. He’s tall enough that I have to lift my chin to look up at him. Handsome enough too, but he doesn’t hold a candle to—
Nope. Don’t do it.
“Totally fine, thanks,” I answer, polite but dismissive as I look away.
I haven’t opened up any avenues for conversation and yet he shifts closer, his cologne tickling my nose. I don’t care for the scent.
“You look tense,” he comments, eyes flicking up and down over me. To his credit, his gaze doesn’t linger on my pushed-up tits and his frown seems genuine, as if he cares that this strange woman at the bar is uncomfortable. “This place is too beautiful to be anything but relaxed.”
I fully fucking agree, and I would be chilling if I wasn’t so worried about Thomas.
