Page 78 of The Paradise Problem

This is all in-bounds, I think. Dancing in front of his family. Fake-kissing at a party. I will build a wall of pillows between us tonight to keep my body firmly on my side of the bed.

I let him draw me close. His big palm feels like fire on my lower back, and a rough groan rumbles deep in his throat at the contact. West tucks my hand against his chest and bends, pressing his face to mine as he begins to move us around the floor.

Frankly, he’s an amazing dancer. I saw it when he was with Reagan, but I feel it now, the way my feet barely touch the floor. Which is good, honestly, because I have no real idea how to dance to this kind of stuff. I was basically going to show Reagan that there’s no wrong way to dance, but I suspect in this crowd, that isn’t true.

“Anna,” he says, his lips brushing my ear. I ignore this subtle call for my attention, and I definitely ignore how much I like it when he calls me Anna. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you think you’re apologizing for?” I say quietly into his neck.

“For disappearing after what you said at the spa. For coming back and being a weirdo.”

“You know, I don’t mind that you disappeared. After the initial sting of it, I didn’t mind that you got weird, either. I’m sure all of this acting is draining. I’m sure keeping your shit together with your family here is exhausting. This is an objectively weird situation. And I’m weird all the time. But I’m not cold weird. I’m not hurtful weird.”

“You are, in fact, one of the most level-headed people I’ve ever met. And have more class than me, or anyone here.” He spins us a few times, fancy moves. Hot moves.

I will not be swayed.

“I know this is one big game,” I say, “but at least keep the rules consistent. You keep changing them on me. You came to find me at the spa and kissed me so sweetly, and then ran away when I said something nice.”

“Understood. I really am sorry.”

“It’s probably easiest if we continue to be fake-happily-married in front of everyone and keep it simple. Just for show.”

He nods against me, turning us, and we dance our way along the long side of the floor.

“You’re right.” He says after a few quiet moments. “That’s probably easiest. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to explain why I went for a walk today.”

“I think I understand. I mean, anyone with a father like yours—”

“It wasn’t my father. Well—let me amend that. I’m sure anytime I’m weird, he’s part of the why. But I think the real issue was that today, in the spa with you… I’ve never had someone be firmly on my side before. At least, someone who wasn’t asking for more from me. I know I’m paying you, but when you said that you didn’t care about the money, when you were touching me and looking like you wanted to kiss me… it felt real.”

I swallow around a tight ball of emotion in my throat. “Well… yeah. That’s why it was hurtful for you to shove me away and then act jealous the second I simply spoke to another man.”

“I haven’t felt real things with a woman in a long time, though. It’s disorienting to get blindsided by that here. Especially when it went against everything I had planned. I think the idea of opening myself up to another kind of hurt sent me to a strange place.”

I pull back, looking into his eyes, impressed with how open he’s being. “I get that.”

“Are we okay?” he asks.

I squeeze my eyes closed, feeling the tight, clenching sensation mirrored in my chest. I don’t love how attracted I am to him. It feels precarious, like walking a tightrope and the fall would be so easy and so deadly. But I also know myself: there’s no cork inside me to bottle it back up. Besides, this talk was good, his transparency is good. I do feel so much better. “Yeah. We’re okay.”

He pulls back, looking at my mouth. “My instinct is to kiss you now.”

“That certainly is what a married couple would do.”

“I’m not really sure what the rules are anymore,” he admits. “I agree we need them, but I don’t think I can make them alone.”

I study his face, wondering if I can give in to this. I think I can, especially if I stop taking it so seriously. “I mean, truthfully, a kiss doesn’t have to mean everything,” I remind him. “I read the contract this time, and there’s nothing in there about physical intimacy. Kissing doesn’t change the terms of our agreement.”

“Correct.”

“And whatever we do,” I reason, “we can agree it’s only for this island.”

“That’s true.”

“So we’re in agreement?” I ask. “Collaborators with benefits? Vacation ride-or-die? No strings attached beyond this?”

He nods, a small smile curling his lips. “Collaborators with benefits.”

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