Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 109850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 549(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
“I’m saying nothing,” I declared.
“That means yes,” Fletcher decided. “She doesn’t want to lavish him with praise in case it inspires other lovely ladies to try dragging him into gardens.”
I gaped, amused. “I didn’t drag him anywhere.”
“You thought he’d follow you, though, didn’t you? Be honest, it was a trap.” Fletcher imitated throwing out a fishing hook and spinning the reel. “You lured him out there.”
I chuckled. “Not at all. I just wanted a reprieve, so the gardens seemed a fine idea. I genuinely didn’t even imagine he’d come looking for me.”
Cassie swam toward me. “If you had known he’d follow, would you still have wandered out there?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but I didn’t speak … because I really didn’t like my answer.
Cassie grinned. “You totally would have.”
Yes, I would have. “Which makes me an idiot.”
She gently squeezed my arm. “It makes you someone who wants to take a chance on a good guy, even when it doesn’t seem like that chance will pay off.”
“Further proving that I’m an idiot.” The breeze whispered over me, and little bumps rose along my exposed flesh. I dipped down further into the pool so that only my head was above the waterline and then turned to Fletcher. “You’re an Empath, so you must have picked up on the resentment he feels.”
Fletcher bit his lip. “It creeps in sometimes, like a snake—all slow and sneaky. But it’s not directed toward you. And it’s not as bad as it was before his trip. Like he’s close to stomping out whatever’s at the source of it.”
“Do you think he resents wanting her because he’s still grieving his girlfriend?” Keeley asked him. “That wanting Maya makes him feel guilty?”
Fletcher wrung his hands. “I don’t like talking about people’s feelings, it’s like spilling secrets that I haven’t even been trusted with. I will say this, Maya. He feels the occasional pang of grief, but he’s not swimming in it. He never really was. So I really don’t think he’s pining for another woman.”
I felt my brows draw together. “Why else would he resent wanting me?”
“That’s something you’d have to ask him,” said Fletcher.
Cassie nudged me. “I’m surprised you haven’t already asked him. Are you worried what the answer might be?”
Poking my fingers out of the water, I stared at the wrinkly tips. “I don’t want to hear that I, in some way, remind him of this woman he lost.” I didn’t want to hear that he’d never wanted me for me.
“Why do you think it could be that?” asked Alora.
“In his eyes, there must be something different about me, but not in a good way,” I said. “None of the women he slept with before me claimed there’d been any angry sex—he and I had some of that. He didn’t sleep with any of them more than once. He didn’t strike up a fling with anyone other than me, and he demanded exclusivity despite not really knowing me. And since returning here, he hasn’t started something with any of the women here. Unless there’s something I’m not aware of.”
“If he’d had a tumble with any of the women on the island recently, we’d have heard about it,” said Fletcher. “The only one he seems to have any interest in right now is you.”
I snorted. “He’s interested in fucking me, which isn’t quite the same thing.” Done in the pool, I climbed the ladder, shivering as the water drizzled down my body and the cool breeze swept over my wet skin. “I just wonder if the reason he’s different with me isn’t really about me at all. Like … he sees me as a pale imitation of the woman he actually wants, and he gets angry because I’m not her.”
Jude let out a thoughtful hum. “Does he talk much during sex?”
I twisted my rope of wet hair, and water splattered on my feet. “Yeah, he’s pretty verbal.”
“Does he say your name?” Jude asked.
I shrugged. “Sometimes.”
“Then I don’t think he’s picturing someone else.”
I snatched a dry towel from a lounger and wrapped it around me. “No, he definitely doesn’t do that. He makes too much eye-contact for me to worry that he’s using me that way. But I’m just not so sure I’m the woman he wishes he was looking at, that’s all.”
“You won’t know unless you ask him outright.”
I heaved a sigh. “He wouldn’t answer. He’s locked up tight.”
God, what was I doing fooling around with a guy I cared for when said guy could offer me nothing? I couldn’t keep this up. And it wasn’t fair of me to do so, because I was giving him the impression that I was okay with how things were. It was emotional dishonesty, really. That wasn’t my style.
“You’re going to walk away, aren’t you?” asked Cassie.
I blew out a breath. “I think it’s best for both me and him that I do.”