“Can you stomach some food?” he asks.
“I’m starving.”
We eat in silence for a few minutes, which gives me a breath to think. “Do women act like this a lot at the hotel?” Meaning, how many women do you sweep off their feet on a weekly basis here?
He tries to laugh with a mouthful, and holds his hand in front of his lips, chewing and swallowing the bite of food. “Funny you should mention that. This isn’t the hotel for bachelorette trips. This is more of a couple's retreat hotel.” Leave it to Macy to send us three girls to a couple's retreat hotel. “So, to answer your question, no, I have not found many single girls on Lovers Beach, then coaxed them to the bar after dinner, or helped them out when they lost their hotel room.” The last part was a nip I deserved for asking the question.
“So, I’m the first?”
“You are, in fact, the first, Alexa.” Lincoln wraps his hands around his glass of juice and downs half the contents.
Just as he places his glass back down, his phone rings from the long dresser on the opposite side of the room. Lincoln stands up, making another show of his lean, muscular body, and picks up the phone. “Hey,” he says. “I have her, and she’s safe, and no, I didn’t sleep with her, despite how much she begged me to.”
I can hear the roar of laughter echoing from his phone. “Grace wants to know why I didn’t sleep with you?” he asks.
“Grace!” I shout.
“She says we have thirty minutes before we have to get ready to meet the hot concierge excursion guy in the lobby, so get busy.”
“Oh my God,” I say, shaking my head with embarrassment.
“Will you two be in the room until we have to leave? She will need to come by for a change of clothes. Oh, and I need your room number, because Miss Organized has no clue what room you’re in.” Lincoln listens to whatever Grace is saying to him, and he smiles in response. “Sounds good. See you soon.”
“What did she just say?” I ask, needing to know what bug Grace just planted in Lincoln’s ear.
“She said, you haven’t gotten laid in over a year, and to take care of that.”
“What?” I shout. First, it’s not true. I hooked up with an old friend six months ago, and Grace knows about it. Second, she wouldn’t purposely embarrass me like that.
“I’m kidding. She said she wouldn’t judge us if we hooked up though. Oh, and she said don’t use your safety condom because it expired a year ago.”
I toss myself back into the pillow. “I have never been so mortified in my entire life,” I enunciate. “I think I might need a new word for embarrassment. This is that bad.”
“You’re being dramatic. We’ve all had our moments. We live, learn, and fall for hot excursion guys.”
I toss a pillow at Lincoln. More of his personality is poking through, and I like this side he kept hidden yesterday. He’s playful. “Why do you have to be the image of perfection? Like … this is just a tease. I can’t sleep with you, for real. That would make me … easy, or whatever, and there isn’t enough time to endure an appropriate length of time to know someone before making the move.”
“What you say is all true. It sucks.”
That’s it? He’s not going to argue that life is short and we should live in the moment? I was kind of setting him up to say all that so I don’t feel sleazy while thinking of a way to sleep with him. “Oh.”
“It is,” he confirms. “Were you hoping for a different response?”
I shrug. “Nope.” Yes. I was.
Lincoln narrows his eyes at me and crosses the room, climbs onto the bed, then stops inches away. “No one is judging us, Alexa. You want something … say it. However, I recommend you spend the day with me first. Then, make your decision. How does that sound?”
“What if I hate you after the excursion and we miss out on something that could have been amazing?”
“Well, then it wasn’t meant to be,” he responds. “But, think of it this way … what if you fall in love with me today? You probably still won’t want to sleep with me because that’ll just make things even harder on Sunday.”
“You’re right. Let’s get moving.” This sucks. I’m doing the right thing and letting this wave ride out, but I want to whine and pout until I get my way, regardless of the regret I might feel later.
“One thing, though,” he adds in. “You can’t get mad at me if I make you want me even more, okay?”
I cock my head to the side, hearing the challenge in his voice. “Two can play at this game, and you don’t know who you just started a battle against,” I tell him, smirking for good measure.
8