Page 52 of Grand Escape

“Thank you. I appreciate you sharing that with me. Your mom sounds like a pretty amazing woman. Single mom of triplets, two of them rambunctious boys. Dealing with Becca’s issues and their aftermath, and now holding it together.”

Rylan ran a hand through her hair, looking at me with an expression I couldn’t decipher. Empathy, maybe, or was it pity? My head was so messed up, I didn’t know.

“I only wish my mom was half that type of person. But, Adam, we all have the life we’re born into and the life we choose to live.”

“Exactly. I don’t want to live in that pain anymore.”

“Sounds like you have some heavy lifting to do.”

I nodded. “I also want to continue to get to know you. You make me feel good. Good in a way I didn’t know existed.”

“Hey. Where’s the entourage?” Rylan cut me off, reverting to her bite to cover her own emotions.

“Booking flights.”

I prayed to every God I knew and didn’t know that they were successful in their endeavor.

When Rylan didn’t respond, I waited a beat or two before bringing up what I wanted to ask. “Actually, Cal is taking them to dinner tonight, and I’m free if you want to hang. Of course, he’d love us—you and me—to join them, but I think that’s probably pushing the limits.”

She wiped down the counters as the computer printed out what I imagined were totals for the day. “That’s nice,” she said, but her tone suggested she didn’t mean it.

I tried to draw on my knowledge of women, but was falling short when it came to pushing past this with Rylan. I felt myself blaming her age, attributing this problem to her youth, but then I remembered the abandonment Rylan had experienced as a child. Her parents had used her as a pawn in their events and pursuits, which was why she kept herself at a distance from other people.

“It’s neither here nor there. Listen to me, spouting clichés. Look, I don’t want to go with them any more than you do,” I finally admitted. “I want to be with you. Being with you feels good down to my soul, and I would do whatever you wanted.”

I meant it. Sharing time with Rylan sparked an enjoyment in me that I hadn’t felt in a long time. She showed me life goes on, and that we can’t control our loved ones. Case in point—her parents.

“You know what?” Rylan said, staring past me. “I actually don’t want to do much. I have a throbbing headache, probably the result of drinking on the job in the heat. I think what I’m going to do is go back to my place, shower, and crawl into bed.”

I wanted to say no, wanted to beg her to spend time with me, but I deserved this cold shoulder.

“I get it. Honestly, it’s what I deserve,” I told her. “Here I’ve been acting all casual and fun-loving when I’m with you, pretending to be some weird vacation version of myself, but it’s not really me. I’m always serious about everything I do. I believe in being ultra-calculating in how, who, where, and what I spend my time doing. It’s my biggest attribute and downfall, all wrapped up in one.”

Leaning her elbows on the bar, Rylan looked straight at me. “I’d say more attribute than downfall. Look how successful you’ve been.”

Taking a chance, I ran my palm down her forearm, stopping to gently squeeze her elbow before allowing my hand to rest there. I had to touch her or make contact in some way. “Listen, spending time with you has been life-changing. Success doesn’t make a person happy, but being with you does.”

I started to panic. What if I’d made my growing feelings clearer, maybe Rylan wouldn’t have been so threatened by Chelsea?

Rylan flipped her hand over and wove our fingers together but refused to look at me. It was too little, too late on my part. I’d read enough faces of lawyers and clients to know what was happening.

Loss crept through my legs and up my spine, making its way to my head. Rylan and I had only known each other just shy of a week. She wasn’t the type of girl to fall fast, but I’d been convinced there was something real between us.

“Meeting you, hanging with you, being with you, it’s been life-changing for me too,” she said slowly, keeping her focus on our entwined hands. “I’m not an angel, I’ve had fun here and there, but I leave it at that. Fun. Good times. Those are my specialty. It’s why I like working at the bar. Seeing your friends arrive, that’s not a world I belong in or want to fit into.”

Disagreeing, I said, “Ry—”

She shook her head. “Don’t. It will only ruin the great times we’ve shared this week.”

“What about food? You need to eat, right?” I asked, searching for a life jacket in a raging ocean.

“I’ll eat. I have some stuff at my place. Just because I work in a five-star joint doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a PB&J.” She let go of my hand and smiled, finally looking at me.

Rylan took her ponytail and wrapped it into a bun on top of her head like I’d seen my spin instructor do a million times. But something about the sight of her gentle hands—slightly shaking, twisting her hair at the end of her workday—it gutted me.

“I deserve that comment, I guess. Here I am, spending tons of money on the luxury you serve up, and it’s in the con column when it comes to me.”

“No, it’s not that. I’m just exhausted. I didn’t mean anything by the comment. I love this place and need people to spend money on a five-star resort so I can make a living. Listen, I’ve worked a lot this week and have been spending time with you. I just need a break. Some quiet.”

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