Page 14 of Auctioned to the Professor

After sprinting out the door, I manage to make it to the airport just in time to get through security before boarding. I can’t believe I’m really doing this.

I manage to catch up on some sleep on the plane, and excitement at seeing all the new sights pushes aside my heartache enough that I think I might be well on my way to healing. The taxi driver is friendly and chatty, telling me about a dozen different places I should see during my visit.

The air is hot and much balmier than what I’m used to and I’m glad I packed light sundresses and sandals. The room is even nicer than it looked on the resort’s website, with a fully stocked bar and a welcome fruit basket on the table. Outside on the balcony there’s a sweeping view of the vast bay where I hope to see the tiny organisms that cause the water to light up like magic after night falls.

This should be perfect, but I can’t seem to make myself enjoy the moment. I need to get outside and start enjoying all this resort has to offer. I force myself to leave the room, searching for the same excitement I felt when the plane landed. The pool area is almost like a jungle, with long winding paths leading through flowering shrubs and palm trees toward the beach. The sound of the manmade waterfall crashing into the crystal blue waters of the massive pool makes a soothing backdrop to the live band playing at the bar nearby.

“Well, hello,” a guy who’s maybe a couple years older than me says when we almost collide on the path toward the bar. “Let me buy you whatever you’re drinking.”

He’s handsome, not much taller than me, which has never been a deal breaker before, but all I can picture is how Grady towers over me, having to lean down to kiss me. He has sandy blond hair, which I instantly compare to Grady’s dark strands. His eyes are blue. Pretty enough, but there’s nothing deep going on behind them. Not like Grady who always seems to be brooding over something.

Damn it. All of a sudden there are tears in my eyes. The nice guy asks if I’m alright and if there’s anything he can do to help. A fling might help me get over my heartbreak, but as good looking and seemingly sweet as this guy is, it makes my skin crawl to think about letting him touch me.

I only want Grady to touch me, ever again. And I totally screwed myself out of that option.

I manage to thank the guy and change course toward the beach, not wanting anyone else to hit on me at the bar. Even accepting a soda from another man makes me want to throw up. What’s wrong with me? Will I ever be normal again?

Not without Grady, my cruel thoughts whisper in my head.

Not even the ocean can help me, and I stumble back to my room and into bed. I think a full night’s sleep will help me, and hopefully tomorrow I’ll be able to find the strength to get out and enjoy this beautiful island.

Chapter 10

Grady

As soon as I submit my resignation from the university, I rush over to Faye’s apartment. I realize she never asked me how I knew which window was hers, and I like to think she accepted me following her around for the last year. I need to believe she’ll be willing to hear me out after I ran away from her the other night.

It’s only three stories up but the stairs seem to take forever, even running up two at a time. When I get to her door, I can’t hold back and pound on it until it opens a crack. All I can see is a wary eye, but a second later the door closes again and I hear the person inside slipping the chain out of its track.

“Professor Simmons?” Faye’s friend who had me sign the book the other day answers the door, wearing a sad expression. “Are you looking for Faye?”

“Yes,” I sigh, I cannot wait another second to see Faye. I feel like I can't breathe.

Jen lets out an empty laugh and throws her arms up in the air. “She’s not here.”

I look past her. “I know she’s not in class. Please, this is an emergency.”

Jen looks at me with pity, “She went to Puerto Rico. She needed space to figure everything out, to find a way to move on. She turned off her phone for the trip – she really wants to disconnect. But I think you get her, and I know she’s loved you ever since she read the first Lost Moon.” I’m speechless, I didn’t realize Faye has always loved my books. God, I really messed this up. I need to get to Puerto Rico and make things right with the girl of my dreams.

I turn away and Jen leaves me with another sad smile and wishes me luck finding Faye. I almost don’t know where to start, then it hits me. In one of our long conversations, Faye told me some of the things she wanted to do with her winnings. She’d mentioned seeing wonders of the world, both manmade and natural, and bioluminescent bays were one of the things on her list. That’s why she chose Puerto Rico, famous for its glowing water.

I don’t bother going home and head straight to the airport. I can buy whatever I need once I land on the island. It’s six hours before the next flight out and I spend the time wandering the terminal, too wired for coffee, my churning stomach rejecting any thought of airport snacks.

Every minute feels like an hour and I’m scared to death I won’t find her. I don’t even know what hotel she’s staying at and a quick search turns up pages and pages of options. All I know is I won’t stop looking. Not until I find her.

On the flight, I take the time to remember everything she told me, everything I know about my girl from the weekend we spent together, and the year I spent getting to know her from afar. Based on the things she likes, and the fact she’s now flush with cash, I narrow it down to a choice between three hotels. When the taxi driver asks me where I want to go, I blurt out the place I think she’d like the best, hoping I’m correct.

It’s close to sunset when I check in, desperate for any room they have available. While he’s checking his computer, I make a sweep of the big, airy lobby, full of tourists, gift kiosks, and countless potted plants. My heart races when I see a redhead duck into the restaurant at the far side of the lobby, but it’s not Faye.

Of course I wouldn’t get that lucky.

“Is this the right time of year to see the bioluminescence?” I ask, when the guy hands me my key card.

“Yes, it’s the best time, actually,” he says, pointing vaguely toward the beach. “And the sunset shouldn’t be missed. Just head out that way.”

He looks around for my luggage and I tell him I’m traveling light, not bothering to wait around for an answer. I make my way through crowds of people who are already well on their way to being drunk, having the time of their lives on their vacation. For me, this feels like life or death, and I shake my head curtly at the server who blocks my path asking if I want some kind of tropical shots.

The sun is hanging low on the horizon, making the water almost blindingly bright. The beach behind the resort is an impossibly vast swathe of sand and there’s still the chance I might have chosen the wrong hotel. As I wander through the crowd, I keep my eyes peeled, hoping I will be able to feel her presence before I catch sight of her.

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