32

Maximilian

We walk. We talk.
I don’t know if I asked the right questions, or if Cadence is in the mood to share details of her life. I can say with certainty that she’s not one who easily opens up to new people. I think it takes her a while to trust.
I puff up like a peacock at the thought that I’m one of those few people.
She tells me about dancing classes and gymnastics she did as a young girl. She mentions her mother dying. I can tell from her voice that it torments her not to have a relationship with her half-brother and sister. She mentions those who work with her.
It doesn’t seem like she has many friends.
I want to be her friend.
Slowly, I watch as she relaxes with me. Being on the beach helps, passing people who greet us with smiles. Everyone is so happy here and it’s impossible not to have it seep into your soul. I drink in Cadence’s laughs and try to hold her gaze when she meets my eyes.
It’s like I’m trying to tame a wild animal, like a deer. Inching closer and closer until she takes something from my hand.
Maybe not a deer; Cadence is more like a wolf. She’s got the eyes for it, and there’s a streak of wildness running underneath the surface that does things to my cock when I let myself wonder how wild she really can be. But as much as I can begin to see the shy and lonely woman, it’s hard to forget that woman is a billionaire with an empire that rivals my father’s.
Actually, the more I’m around her here, the more I do forget Cadence’s wealth. And her history.
It’s a heavy conversation for such a beautiful setting.
We stop at the Ritz and I buy her an Aperol Spritz at the bar, and we share a plate of sweet potato fries. We play with the chess pieces and watch the boats go by. I tell her about my father—the bad stuff—and my mother—the good stuff. I tell her being a Stonee isn’t all it’s cut out to be.
By the time we walk back, we’re well on our way to becoming friends.

“Have you even touched the water?” I tease as Cadence jumps back from a wave.
“I think it’s more that I haven’t let the water touch me. But my feet are wet.”
“The rest of you should be wet too.” I grab her hand, giving myself a momentary high five at the thought of telling Dexter I held her hand, and pull her closer to the water. “You’re not afraid, are you?”
“I’m not afraid of anything.” There’s the billionaire coming out to play.

“I didn’t think so. What’s your problem, then? Afraid to get your hair wet?”
“Never,” she scoffs, dropping my hand to rush down to the water.
“Careful,” I call as a wave breaks against her legs.
“I thought you were the fun one,” she throws over her shoulder, plunging in just as a huge wave rushes the shore.
It hits waist-high and knocks Cadence right off her feet. She goes down, under the wave.
“Cadence!”
To give her credit, she pops right up as I get to her, hair soaked and streaming down her face.
And laughing.
“Holy shit, did you not see that coming?” I gasp, grabbing her arm as another wave breaks against us.
“Don’t dare me to do things.” Cadence pushes her hair back, still laughing. Her amber eyes sparkle.
“There was no dare,” I protest, keeping my hold on her as the waves continue. “I didn’t dare anything.”
“It felt like you did.” She shakes off my hand on her arm, but grabs my hand as she jumps up just as the wave hits.
Cadence Quiler, lady billionaire, plays in the waves.
Of course, I’m right there with her.
We jump and splash, and laugh; I’m knocked over once and Cadence is hit twice, the second time going down so hard by such a huge wave that it takes me a moment to drag her up.
She laughs it off again, especially when she realizes sand has collected in her bikini bottom.
“It’s not supposed to be wavy here,” I keep saying.
“I like it,” she assures me. It’s clear she does; in the short time I’ve known her, I’ve never seen Cadence look so happy. Free.
And so beautiful that every time I look at her, it threatens to knock me over more than one of the waves.
We venture farther out, where the waves are bigger but without the whitecaps. Still holding hands, I keep her close, because if anything happened to Cadence on my watch—
“Ouch!”
“What happened?”
“I think—” A wave grabs her unaware, leaving her coughing and sputtering. I don’t hesitate before grabbing Cadence and wading to the shore.
But it’s not a romantic scooping-her-up-in-my-arms gesture; since she’s in front of me, I pick her up and her legs go around my waist so that she’s wrapped around me as I carry her out, coughing into my shoulder.
And yes, my hands are on her ass.
The waves keep coming and I almost lose her once before I manage to get us both to shore, racing a big one as I stumble onto the sand.

Cadence isn’t laughing but still trying to catch her breath. “Are you okay?” I demand, panting heavily, and unwilling to put her down.
“I think something bit me,” she gasps. “My foot. Shark,” she says at the same time I decide, “Jellyfish.”
“It couldn’t be a shark,” I assure her.
“It better not be a jellyfish because you are not peeing on my foot.”

“I’m not peeing on anything, but let me look at it.” She has an angry red mark on the side of her foot. “I think it was a jellyfish. If it was a shark, you wouldn’t have a foot left.”
“Are you sure?” Cadence hops on one foot because I’m still holding the other in a death grip.
“Would you rather be bitten by a shark than a jellyfish?”
“Yes, because I don’t want you to pee on me!”
The inanity of our conversation hits both of us at the same time, and we look at each other and laugh. “It hurts,” Cadence moans, through her laughter.
“Vinegar works,” I decide. “Can you make it to that bar over there?”
Cadence looks where I point, but before she can answer, I decide for her. “Jump on,” I instruct, standing before her. “I’ll carry you.”