23

“Nick,” I manage. “Cadence, let me—”
“You brought me here as a treat? Is that the favour you want? That you think I’ll go along with a four-way with the three of you?”
Silence greets her words. Does she actually—? “What? No! Oh, god, no!”
“That sounds like a pretty good idea, actually,” Nick says, leering at Cadence.

“Nick, shut the fuck up.” I turn to Cadence, holding out my hands. “Cadence, look, this is my friend Nick, being an asshole, and that’s Dexter. They’re both staying here in their own rooms, and no one is expecting anything from you. Just want you to have a good time.”
“Hey.” Dexter nervously waves from a distance.
“Hel-lo.” Nick watches Cadence appreciatively. “Apologies for offending, but I can’t see how—”
I hold up a hand to his face. “Guys, this is Cadence. She’s doing me a huge favour letting me drag her to this thing.”
“The thing being the wedding?” Dexter wants to know. “You brought a date?”
“I—” Cadence still looks stormy and I swallow. “I guess I did.”
“Might have been nice to mention that fact,” Nick mutters.
“It was very last minute,” I tell him.
“All cool,” peacemaker Dexter says. “It’s great to meet you.” He steps forward, hand outstretched and a cheerful smile on his face. Cadence’s shoulders relax and I heave a deep breath.
That did not go as planned. I make a mental note to text Marco that I’m now a plus-one for the wedding.
“Yeah,” Nick says, still caught in a stare-down with Cadence. If he doesn’t stop soon, I can’t see him making it out alive. “Just give us a heads-up next time you spring a lady on us. And dude, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but two rooms?”
“What are you talking about?” I leave Cadence’s side and step away from the door. The hallway leads to the kitchen, and into the living room, both done in off-white and tranquil blue. The master bedroom is off the living room, with a private balcony, and the other two rooms are here—
One room. There are two doors, and I know one is the storage closet.
This condo has only two bedrooms for four people. And one of those people doesn’t want to be anywhere close to me right now.
“My fucking father,” I mutter.
Cadence
The heat in my cheeks hasn’t gone away.
How could I say that to Max? And his friends? Accusing Max of bringing me here as a treat? A four-way? To assume that’s all he wanted from me, when he has been nothing but a perfect gentleman.
Max basically dumped me and my bags in a room, shutting the door after me, and went and talked to his friends. And possibly his father, but by the anger I saw in his eyes, I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that call.
I hear Max and his friends talking and eventually laughing. When their voices dip low, I’m sure they’re talking about me.
Still, I stay barricaded in my room.
It’s a beautiful room. I knew it would be. The whole island is one amazing view after another. The buildings, the condo… or as much as I’ve seen of it. The airport, and the view I had from the tiny window of the plane.
The plane.
I kissed Max on the plane.
Not just kissed, but kissed. There was tongue. I straddled his thigh.

I hold a pillow over my face and scream into it.
After that arrival, I’m perfectly happy staying right here for the weekend—all-white room, king-sized bed with white linens and piles of pillows.
The bed is sinfully comfortable. I know, because I’m flat on my bed, staring at the painting over the headboard of a little dog running along a beach.
I’m still wearing the clothes I put on in the hotel this morning. It feels like forever. When I woke up this morning, I could have never imagined ending up here by the end of the day.

Novi is dead, and I’m here in a different country, hiding from his son.
Not exactly hiding, but I would prefer to keep as much distance as possible between us.
Novi’s funeral. What am I supposed to do about that?
With a groan of reluctance, I pull myself to a sitting position on the bed. Part of me wants to crawl under the sheets to find out if they’re as cool as I hope they are, but that’s impossible.
I have duties.
Responsibilities.
One thing at a time. At least Tatiana and Travis have things under control at home. I’m here to… enjoy myself.
I have difficulty even saying that.
I try again—I will enjoy myself this weekend. With Max.
That kiss…
There’s a lot to unpack about that kiss. Max says he has a crush on me, only that wasn’t a kiss you give to your crush. That was a kiss you want to give the woman you’re about to possess—heart, body and soul.
I conveniently forget that I’m the one who initiated the kiss.
I lay back down, hand lying on my stomach. What got into me? What was I thinking?
Max got into me. I was thinking about Max.
But the best thing, the part my therapist would stand up and cheer about—instead of the self-lecture to stop, to pull back because of the hundred and one reasons I should not get involved with Maximilian Stonee, I lean into it.
I lean into the thoughts of kissing Max and what it might mean. And I tell myself to stop being scared.
When the knock sounds at the door, I smile, because I know it’s Max. I open it to find him with a bashful grin and a glass of wine in his hand.
“Thought you might need this,” he offers.
“I need a lot of things,” I admit, taking the glass. “First is to apologize to you.”
He shakes his head. “Don’t even bother. It was… awkward. I’m sorry to have put you in that situation.”
“But I—”
Max touches my mouth with a gentle finger, stilling my words. “It’s fine.” The way he smooths his finger across my lips makes me want to clamp on to it, sucking it into my mouth.
He’s spot-on about there being something between us.
“You must be hungry. The boys are changing and we’re going to find some food. Come with us.”
I shake my head. “You must want to catch up.”
“I want you to come with us. So do they.”

“I doubt that.”
“C’mon, Nick is half in love with you already. Dex might be a little scared, but he’s a fraidy-cat with women, anyway. You can win him over. Put on something short and sexy and come out with us.”
The way his brown eyes hold mine makes it impossible to refuse. “Give me a few minutes.”
“Okay, good, because…” He trails off, dropping his gaze and I know there’s something else he’s not telling me. “Well, because this is kind of my room, too.”

He can’t be serious.
“There’s only two bedrooms in this condo. I booked the one with four, but there was a miscommunication, and the double isn’t available for us.”
I don’t mention his father even though I get the sense the miscommunication is more like Dalton Stonee took away the condo to inconvenience Max and his friends.
He seems the petty sort.
“I could sleep on the couch—” Max offers.
“Or I could.”
“No. You can’t. I dragged you all the way down here—”
“You didn’t drag me.”
“I made you do me a favour.”
“In return for doing one for me.” And it was a big one, so the least I can do is share the bed with him.
Besides, how bad could it be?
Ihave always prided myself on how quickly I get ready, but this time I impress myself. Eleven minutes from when the door closed on Max to when I walked into the living room to find Max lounging on the couch and Nick and Dexter nowhere in sight.
“Wow.” Max’s eyes widen as he sees me.
“It’s not short,” I warn him.
“But it’s sexy as hell.” I had pulled on a dark blue maxi dress with a halter neckline and a slit up to my thigh and loosened my ponytail to let my hair flow down my back. “Wow. You need more wine,” he says as he notices my empty glass.
“I’ll need a lot to get through this night.”
“Why do you say that?” he asks as he heads for the refrigerator.
“I’m not good with friends,” I admit, settling on the couch.
“Your own or other people's?”
“Both. There’s not much time for a social life for me.”
“That’s about to change.” Max returns with my glass—a very generous pour, I’m happy to see, and a small bowl of potato chips. “We’re here in paradise, so there’s no need to be tense.”
“It is very nice.” I glance around the condo, at the balcony overlooking the beach—white sand and the most brilliant turquoise water. The sun is low in the sky and I’m sure it will be an amazing sunset. “But I’m not tense.”
“No? Good. Let’s make sure.” Max sets his beer on the low table before me and plops down beside me. And then he grabs my ankles and swings my legs up onto the cushions.
“What are you—oh, my god,” I groan as his thumbs press into the arch of my foot. “You can’t do that.” I sag against the arm of the couch.
“Why not, when it clearly feels so good? Besides, it’s my secret talent.” Max winks as his thumbs move along the bottom of my foot. “I give the best foot rubs.”
“Because of my feet.” I try to pull them away, but Max starts at the toes of my right foot, massaging with his thumbs and fingers and threatening to make my eyes roll back into my head. “I don’t like my feet,” I manage.