Bree laughs and exclaims, “I did ride you on a paddleboard.”
Weston grins and stretches, crossing his arm behind his head. “It was still a dream, babydoll.”
Honestly, it’s iconic.
Chase winks at me and I see we’ve added another one to the list.
Trent and Whitney are next. Whitney pulls out a card that says- “Where would you be an exhibitionist?” She shakes her head and nods at Trent to go. He says, “I fantasized about taking Whitney on the counter in the kitchen during the day while everyone else is right out in the living room or on the deck.”
Whitney’s eyes widen and she blushes as she sputters, “Trent! They could hear or see us!”
He mutters, “Yeah, that’s literally the point.”
Chase winks at me—Been there. Done that—and it’s our turn.
He draws a card and immediately smirks. My nerves kick in as he starts to read it aloud.
“What’s one fantasy you’ve never told anyone… because you thought it was too much?”
The group howls and leans forward. They’re not even trying to hide their interest in our answer.
Sasha murmurs, “Ohhhh, I know this is going to be good.”
Trent and Miguel both laugh, and Trent says, “There is something about these two that’s too much? I walked in on them fucking on the island and Miguel walked in on Roxy blowing Chase in the kitchen. Let’s go.”
I stare at Chase while he stares at me.
And then, like an idiot, I blurt out. “My fantasy involves a hotel room. Late check out. Open windows. Room service delivering strawberries, champagne, chocolates, and whipped cream. Silk sheets. No clothes. And Chase—” I stop and the table goes silent.
Whitney fans herself.
Chase is rooted to the spot with his eyes locked on me.
Miguel whispers, “Shit, go on.”
I clear my throat. “Chase… on his knees. Wrecked and begging.”
Trent chuckles and says, “Forgiveness or puss?—"
Whitney smacks him with their card.
I try to play it off.
I laugh. Shrug. Sip my wine… but I can feel Chase watching me.
I glance over at him. His whole body is tense. His jaw is tight. His nostrils flare and his light eyes are so dark only the pupil is visible.
I almost fold right there.
“Your turn,” I say, trying to sound casual though my entire body is awake, alert, and humming.
Chase leans back in his chair but he doesn’t break eye contact, and he says, “My fantasy is simple… she says stay—and means it.”
Oh my… holy shit. He just said that. Publicly. In front of our friends.
It’s not a secret that our marriage is a mess. Or that it’s my fault most of the time.
But he just threw me under the bus. And I can’t even be mad. Because his fantasy shouldn’t be a fantasy. It’s what a normal healthy relationship is supposed to be like.
