Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 398(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
After I spread my towel across the chair and remove my cover-up, I pluck the sunglasses and floppy hat out of my beach bag and put them on. Then I plop down, sighing in contentment. “I kind of feel bad,” I admit as Declan removes his shirt, giving me another glimpse of his sexy as hell body. Unfortunately, he lies back quickly so I don’t catch a peek at the tattoo, but I’m determined to find out what it is.
“About what?” he asks, crossing one ankle over the other. There’s a portable speaker, so he sets his phone against it and clicks play on his playlist.
“I just left a guy at the altar with my family to deal with the fallout, and I’m relaxing at a beautiful resort”—the server sets my martini and Declan’s scotch down and walks away, and I pick it up, taking a sip—“while drinking a delicious martini in a poolside cabana.”
Declan takes a drink of his scotch, and I can’t help but notice the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. An image of me licking my way up his throat hits me so hard it’s almost as if it’s real. It can’t be since I’ve never been with Declan, but the vivid picture—of my tongue gliding up his throat and across his stubbled jawline to his chin—has me squeezing my thighs together. I can’t remember the last time I had sex or even got off. It was definitely before the accident since, despite him trying, I wasn’t with Kyle at all from the time I was discharged and leading up to the wedding that obviously didn’t happen.
I think I need to find some alone time to release some of this pent-up tension, and then maybe I’ll stop fantasizing about Declan.
“Do you love him?” Declan asks, glancing over at me.
I don’t even have to think about it. “No… I wanted to. I tried for weeks to conjure up some kind of feelings for him, but they weren’t there. I don’t know what happened, if it was the accident or what, but my heart wasn’t in it.” I sigh. “God, I’m such a shitty person.”
“Nah, you’re not. A shitty person would’ve gone through with the lie and led him on longer. You did the right thing by calling it off. Now you both can move forward.”
“True, but my moving forward meant leaving my family to deal with everything.”
“Your family loves and supports you, and Camden said your dad handled it all without issue.”
“You told him I’m with you?”
“No.” He quirks a brow. “But would that be a problem if I did?”
“I just think it would be best if no one knew we were on this trip together. They’ll constantly try to check up on me and jump to the wrong conclusion. I don’t want you in the middle of everything.”
He nods in understanding. “I won’t tell them you’re with me, but if they ask…”
“You won’t lie.” I roll my eyes. “I get it.”
“Where do they think you are?”
“I told them I needed to get away and promised to keep in touch. Honestly, they’re kind of used to this.” I take another sip of my drink, slightly embarrassed to admit what I just did.
“Used to what? You tumbling out of windows while running from your wedding?” He smirks playfully, so I know he’s just kidding, but his tone is curious, asking me to explain.
“As you know, I suck at relationships.” Everyone knows. It’s not exactly a secret, what with my entire life being on display in the tabloids and on social media. “Whenever I break up with a guy, I tend to… escape. Well, hide. Let the media run me through the mud and then calm down.”
Declan’s lips tip down into a frown, and he swings his legs over the side of the chair to face me. “You don’t suck at relationships.” He reaches over and lifts my sunglasses, so I’m forced to look him in the eye. “You just haven’t found the right guy yet. There’s nothing wrong with dating until you find the person you want to spend your life with. You’re not doing anything different than what most people do. The only difference is your life is on display for the entire world to see…and”—he chuckles softly—“you make a habit of writing music about your breakups.”
“I don’t write about them,” I say with a huff, dropping my sunglasses back over my eyes and crossing my arms over my chest. “I write about my feelings. Anyway, my point is, they’re expecting me to hide out for a bit, so they won’t suspect anything.”
“Unless we’re spotted,” Declan points out.
“If we are, then we are, but until then, please keep it between us. The last thing I want is to draw you into my circus of a life. One picture of us together and they’ll be linking you to me, predicting how long it will take for you to get stiffed.”