A few heartbeats passed in silence before Elliott muttered, “You’re being a dick.”
He couldn’t help but agree. Chloe had shoved him off his axis, and he was happily lashing out. “She lied to me.”
“That’s true. But you’re still acting like a dick.”
“Fuck off.” He wasn’t going to rescue her. He wasn’t. Even if the need to rush in and save her was spiraling through his limbs, twisting his muscles into painful knots. Max set his jaw and rubbed hard at his thigh. “It’s not my problem. I’m not going to make it my problem.”
“Why would you? You’re only sleeping with her.”
He’d never punched his brother in the face, but the urge nearly overwhelmed him in that moment. “You don’t understand.”
“I guess I don’t. We’re not in the real world on this island. It’s a fantasy. Does Chloe know anything more about you than your job?”
Ah, there was the rub. The jagged edge scraping him raw. Chloe knew something important about him. Something no one else knew. And somehow he’d missed everything about her. He’d looked into her eyes and called her peaceful and normal and sweet, and the truth seemed to be the complete opposite of his elaborate delusion.
“What the hell do you want me to do?” he muttered. “Go over and work it all out with a few hours of therapeutic talk? This thing between us was a little vacation fun. That’s all. It was going to end in a few days, anyway. And she’s got way too much going on to worry about me.”
“Huh,” Elliott answered. “Do you smell frantic justification or is that just me?”
He doesn’t understand, Max told himself again. Not getting involved with someone like Chloe Turner…this was the number one mission in Max’s life right now. He couldn’t give up the ship, he couldn’t turn his back on people who depended on him for their safety, but he could at least have some damn peace in his personal life.
Pushing open the window, Max let the humid sea air wash over him. He breathed deeply, feeling as though he’d been locked in the cabin for weeks. What must it feel like to Chloe, who must be stalked like this in her own home? Shit.
She had to be freaking out. Crazy or not, nobody could enjoy that.
Then again, Genevieve had loved the attention, frenzied as it was. But that didn’t fit Chloe’s behavior. Genevieve would’ve been out on the beach in a big hat and a bikini, pretending to ignore the photographers while giving them her best angle.
Shit.
Elliott made a strangled sound behind him, so Max twisted around to see him staring at his phone. “What is it?”
“The gossip sites are reporting that Chloe Turner’s been living it up here on the island. There are several confirmed reports that she came here to be alone with her lover. There’s a picture of you coming out of her cabin.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“This is funny. ‘A source has confirmed that the boyfriend’s name is Elliott Sullivan.’”
“What?” Max sprang up from the chair, alarmed at the bitter jealousy that shot through him at hearing his brother’s name. How ridiculous was that?
“I’ll bet the source is someone at the hotel. My name is on the room registry.”
Max paced the small living room. “I can’t believe we’ve gotten caught up in this.”
“I thought you were used to this. Genevieve was on the front page pretty often, wasn’t she?”
Max waved a dismissive hand. He’d had nothing to do with that part of Genevieve’s life. It hadn’t touched him, even when his name had been printed next to hers. So why the hell did the gossip about Chloe feel like torture?
“You think I should go talk to her?”
Elliott snorted in answer.
“I guess talking won’t hurt anything.”
“Just go. If you don’t, you’re going to look like an asshole when I go over and ask Jenn if she wants to have a beer on the porch with me.”
Well, that left him with no choice, really. Elliott wanted to see Jenn. Max wasn’t going to stand in the way of that.
You’re pitiful, his inner voice whispered, and Max resolutely ignored it and headed across the sand.