Page 24 of Grand Escape

I grabbed a bottle of mineral water and popped the cap, pouring it into a tall glass for him. “Is that so?”

“It is. My treat, though. I made a reservation here in the place overlooking the ocean. I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous.”

I grabbed my own mineral water and leaned a hip against the bar. “Doing the tourist thing?”

“A guy’s gotta do it once, right?”

“It’s actually really good. Food is great, and it has the best view on the whole island.”

“So, it’s a yes?”

“As long as you don’t mind about a million eyes on us.”

He took a sip of his water, and I watched his Adam’s apple move as I wondered what the pause was about.

Was this when he mentioned his lovesick heart? If so, I didn’t care. Well, I did, but this was just a vacation thing.

“You know, I didn’t want to take this trip. This vacation. A trip is when I travel for work, but I digress. For a number of reasons, I didn’t want to come.” His voice, gravelly with emotion, drowned out Marley. “A whole lot of bullshit was, is, going down in my life, and I didn’t think it could fade away. But it seems a vacation was just what I needed, and I don’t give two shits about people’s eyes on us.”

“So, I’m a distraction then?” I asked. Why I wanted clarification, I wasn’t quite sure.

Tim hustled back, interrupting my interrogation. “The cabana needs a round of shots. Lemon drops, and the one in the pink bikini said I should ask you.”

“Lily.”

“That one.” Smirking, Tim added, “She also asked me out.”

“She’s living her best life.”

“I’m going to let you get back to it,” Adam, said, dropping a cash tip on the bar, a twenty this time. “See you at eight? I can come by your place.” This was served with a wink.

I simply nodded, afraid of what I would say. The swell of confusion in my belly was making me seasick. I wanted to scream yes, but I also wanted to know what this meant to him, and that was bad-bad-bad.

Luckily, I couldn’t dwell on what it all meant. First, there was the view of Adam’s ass in his swim trunks as he sauntered off, and second, I had drinks to make.

Adam

Feeling Rylan’s gaze on me as I walked away made it hard to put one foot in front of the other. Waves rolled in the distance, calling my name, but the urge to head back to her felt stronger.

I resisted it, though. It was a lesson in discipline while I thought about Becca.

She used to say, “You can’t always do what you want, when you want, Ad.” She’d harp on my inability to compromise, and I’d argue back harder. My argument was that I didn’t get where I was while compromising. She’d counter with that it wasn’t always about money and success, but the way she liked finer things begged to differ.

Then I’d argue my point—I worked hard, and therefore deserved to play hard.

Of course, this was all before everything went to shit. For the last two years, I hadn’t done anything I wanted, and just worked even harder. A self-induced punishment. Now, I was here and falling back into old habits all too easily—chasing what I wanted just because I wanted it.

Ignoring the various bachelorette-party groups gathered around the pool, I went straight to the beach.

After a dunk in the ocean, I decided to get a beer at the beach hut. With saltwater dripping down my chest and drying in my hair, I hit the bar. At least the water cooled off some of the emotions raging through me.

“What can I do you?” a young guy asked me.

“A Stripe, thanks,” I said, then mumbled, “Oh shit,” remembering my money was in my pocket. Pulling out a wet wad of cash, I laid it out it on the bar to dry.

A guy at the bar in his late fifties glanced at me. “Not in vacation mode?”

“I thought so, but apparently not.”

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