“I’m just curious about who’ll be staying in the villa with us,” he says, unaffected by my harsh glare.
“It appears it will only be the two of you,” the receptionist says, trying to be helpful.
She is not helping.
“Would you like to downsize to one of our junior suites? It has plenty of space for two people.”
I wave my hands at her like I’m an overzealous referee. “No! No.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” Noah replies. “We’d save money.”
“Noah, we’re both doctors—money isn’t an issue. I’m not sharing a junior suite with you. I bet it only has one bed.”
“A king,” the receptionist says, like that matters.
Unfathomable.
Noah shrugs. “I’m fine either way.”
I narrow my eyes, not quite sure what he’s getting at. Recently, Noah’s been saying and doing things that don’t totally align with our carefully constructed friends-at-a-distance relationship. He remembers my favorite drinks, chastises me when I mention the dating apps I’ve been trying out, insists on walking me home whenever we’re all out together in a group.
Up until this moment, I thought he did it out of kindness.
But wanting to share a bed with me is not kind.
It’s…something else.
My cheeks redden and I gratefully accept the keycard the receptionist slides in my direction. With it, she hands us a printed layout of the complex. The Beach is a boutique hotel with five private villas and ten suites. The villas and suites are tucked away in the lush jungle, separated from one another by sandy walking paths. There’s a spa and pool and restaurant, but everything is secluded and set apart so that if you wanted to, you could stay near your villa and never see another living soul for the entirety of your stay.
Birds squawk in the trees and lizards skitter across the path as Noah leads me toward ours. It’s the one farthest from the restaurant and lobby complex, so I feel like we’re completely and utterly alone when we reach a white plaster building with a number 5 bolted to a bright aqua-colored door.
He scans his keycard and pushes the door open, holding his hand out for me to enter first.
“Why does it feel like you’re supposed to be carrying me over the threshold?” I tease as I brush past him.
“I will if you want me to,” he replies, and because of how serious he sounds, I pick up my pace just in case he’s about to swoop me up into his arms.
The white-walled villa is airy and inviting. There’s white furniture paired with rattan and rustic wooden accent pieces, and a huge bouquet of tropical flowers sits on the coffee table beside a chilling bottle of champagne and a little box of chocolates.
Upon closer inspection, I see the treats were sent to us by Connor and Natalie.
“Sorry we couldn’t be there! Drink a margarita for us.”
I do exactly as I’m told, taking another sip of my drink before handing their note to Noah, who comes over, curious about the sender.
“Our friends miss us, apparently.”
He smiles. “Yes, but the question is…do we miss them?”
He glances down at me and my sip of margarita gets lodged in my throat as I stand momentarily paralyzed, unsure of what exactly he’s playing at.
Is he happy with this arrangement?
I turn on my heels and breeze through the room toward the back row of windows. The central living room faces the ocean, and the sliding glass doors open out to a beachfront terrace with a hammock, couch, and outdoor tub.
I have visions of soaking in it with a book, lost to the world.
“When did you and Von break up?” Noah asks from behind me.
I turn over my shoulder to see he’s sitting on the couch, untying the pretty red bow around the box of chocolates.
“Who says we broke up?”
One side of his mouth rises as he tugs the lid off the box and peruses the truffles sitting inside. He’s too arrogant for his own good.
“So you’re together?” he prods, lifting a chocolate out of the box and bringing it to his lips.
I watch him eat it while I hold my breath.
I’m pathetic, I know.
I turn back to the window and give him the truth. He’s going to find out eventually anyway.
“We broke up a month ago.”
“Good. I hated that guy.”
He never even met Von.
“But that leaves me with a theory,” he continues.
“Do I have to hear it?” I ask, narrowing my eyes out at the crystal blue ocean.
He ignores my teasing in favor of continuing. “You knew it would only be the two of us staying here and you still came.”
My spine stiffens. “That’s not a theory. That’s a statement.”
“Let me finish.”
He sounds bossy.
And…hot.
“You still came because you want to be here with me. Alone.”
There’s his theory, and I refuse to acknowledge it.
Heat creeps up my neck and I sense him studying me. I can feel the pressure of his gaze on the backs of my bare legs, crawling up over my loose sundress. I wonder, with the sun pouring in through the windows, if he can see my figure through the light material.