Page 66 of Caribbean Crush

“Casey,” he pleads, his tone low as he reaches up to cup my face.

I look away, unwilling to meet his eyes as the tears fall down my cheeks until they reach his hand, pooling there.

I’m desperate for his comfort, I realize. I want to feel like there’s someone in my corner. Sienna’s been such a good friend today, keeping me distracted, tugging me along with her so I wouldn’t have to wallow alone in my suite. Phillip is different, though. I want him to take away this pain, sweep me up in the feelings he’s been so good at producing in the last few days.

“Could we go to your suite? Just one more time?”

He doesn’t even hesitate. He lets go of my face, takes my hand—his grip warm and tight and assuring—and he pulls me down the hall to his suite. He’s eager to get me behind the closed door, and I expect him to push me up against it and kiss me senseless like we’ve done the last two times we’ve been alone here. Instead, he brings me over to the couch, sitting me down before taking a chair opposite me.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Is it us? Have I—?”

“No!” I say, rushing out the word so he knows I mean it. “Just, please. Could we ... once more. That’s all.” It’s easier if I talk without looking at him. It’s partly cowardice, I realize, but there’s nothing to be done. Phillip intimidates me on a good day when I have my full defenses up. Today, he’d simply undo me. “It feels silly to put myself in your path and then tell you that I’d rather not discuss why I’m obviously upset. It’s ... complicated, and it has nothing to do with you. Furthermore, you can’t fix it, so in a way, there’s no reason to discuss it at all. So let’s do something else.”

I’m hoping I’m making myself clear enough without having to actually spell it out.

“While I might not be able to fix the issue, I’d still like to know, Casey. You shouldn’t have to carry—”

“I won’t talk about it.”

He doesn’t understand. It’s not an issue; it’s my entire life in shambles here. There’s no easy way to delve into it or I would! Well ... maybe, I would.

“So you came here to use me, then? For comfort or a distraction or—”

I lift my chin, finally, finally, looking at him. My tone is bold and clear. “Yes. Both of those things, and I won’t deny it. If that doesn’t sit right with you, well, it doesn’t really matter. I won’t change my mind. I’ll just leave.”

His brow furrows as he looks me over. His voice sounds pained when he replies, “It doesn’t have to be like this.”

I laugh, and it rings out caustic and bitter. “It does, actually.”

What would he know of my situation, anyway? He has a multitude of friends, family—Vivienne, even, would likely come running if only he asked it of her. Even without all of that, his money is his biggest safety net of all. There’s no sense in trying to share with him how I’m feeling. He wouldn’t understand. And more importantly, that’s not what we are to each other. There are walls to keep up, lines we shouldn’t cross.

I’m aware that I’m technically the one who first infringed upon them by showing up on his doorstep clearly distraught. I’ve put him in this difficult position and, well—

I stand up abruptly, deciding that now would be a good time to leave. Thoroughly embarrassed, I now have tons of material to torture myself with later in the confines of my quiet bedroom. I’ll recall the fact that I damn near threw myself at him—while crying—and I’ll cringe all over again.

Just as I take a step, Phillip speaks loudly and commandingly. “Sit.”

I go still.

“Sit down.”

God, he almost sounds angry.

“You aren’t going to show up here like this and then leave. Jesus, Casey. Do you think that little of me? That I would just let you wander out of here right now?”

“You have dinner,” I say lamely.

Phillip sighs like I’ve pushed him to his limit, and maybe I have.

What an epic fail of a one-night stand. I’ve really managed to suck all the fun out of it. This is the sort of thing you have to deal with in long-term relationships and, even then, only because you have to.

Phillip stands and comes to me, his intensity radiating off him.

By the time he’s in front of me, I’ve lost the willpower to meet his eyes. I stare at his chest as he holds his hands out to capture mine. Slowly, he weaves our fingers together, tightening his hold. What a simple, intimate act. Just our palms pressed together, nothing more, and it feels like he’s reached inside my chest and stolen my heart.

Chapter Seventeen

PHILLIP

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