Page 51 of My Grumpy Billionaire Soccer Star

I shift my weight to my left leg, unsure of what to make of the sudden shift from angry to tense.

“I said shut up, and don’t move.”

The seriousness in his voice this time makes fear creep up my spine, and I instantly know something is terribly wrong. The low, unmistakable sound of a hiss just behind me makes my blood run cold, and the cold feel of an object against my ankle sends me instinctively lunging toward Vaughn without so much as a thought. Though neither of us is prepared for it, he manages to grab me with his strong arms just in time, swinging me to the side. We almost crash into a tree as the snake lunges at me.

My God! I swear my ribcage would have cracked if my heart had beaten any faster. He lets go of me, but I would rather die than let go of him. Sensing my reluctance, he says, “I need to try and kill it.”

“Hell no!” I bark. My heart is beating louder than my voice, so I’m not even aware I sounded like that. “I am not about to be left alone with that thing. What if it tries to attack me again? Or tries to attack you, for that matter?”

My grip on his sleeve loosens as I witness the reaction that follows. He first raises a thick eyebrow, and then his serious expression morphs into laughter.

I feel a little bit embarrassed, a little bit of anger, and a little bit of confusion. I, for sure, know that none of what I just said was funny. No, none of what is going on here is funny. There’s literally a big-ass snake just a few meters away from us, probably looking for another opportunity to strike!

That sounds funny to you, Vaughn?

He gently removes my hands from his sleeve. “Trust me, it will be fine,” he says. He doesn’t sound reassuring, but his eyes look the part. I reluctantly let go of him, and he gently steps around me to retrieve a branch lying randomly on the forest floor.

“Don’t make a movement,” Vaughn cautions. He moves slowly toward the snake, which has now assumed a striking pose.

A few steps in, the snake strikes. Although I am practically glued to the cottonwood tree behind me at this point, my knees give away. Vaughn appears to have timed the snake’s strike and catches it on the head as he swings the branch. The snake does a swirling movement with its head before collapsing on the leaves.

“Is it . . . dead?” I ask, finally straightening my back.

Vaughn is now standing over the snake, his back turned to me. “Looks pretty dead to me. Wasn’t expecting it to die from just a swing.” He turns his head to me. “It looks a bit different from the common rattlesnakes I have seen.”

Snake knowledge is the last thing I am interested in right now. I am just glad we’re safe. Breathing a sigh of relief, I approach where he’s standing to take a closer look.

My mouth drops instantly. “Jesus Christ! That could have bitten me.” A crawling sensation runs under my skin as the thought of being a snakebite victim runs through my mind. On this deserted island, I would be dead before sunrise.

His gaze lingers on me for a while before he bursts into another fit of laughter.

“Seems like almost getting bitten by a dangerous snake is funny to you,” I say this time.

“Oh, it’s definitely not,” he replies, stepping over the dead snake as he heads toward the shelter, “It’s your reaction. You should have seen your face when you clutched at me desperately.”

“Oh.” A blush of embarrassment heats my cheeks. “Well, I don’t reckon anyone would clap and jump for joy when they encounter a big-ass snake like that.”

He laughs lightly again, and this time, it’s infectious. We share a laugh as we head back to the shelter, and for some weird reason I hadn’t noticed earlier (probably because I was scared), I realize it’s strange hearing him laugh. I have never seen him laugh that much before or even laugh at all. He snickers at most, and it’s usually not for friendly reasons. I can’t decide if I find his laughter adorable and pleasing because of its novelty or because of something else—something else like me getting all warm and fuzzy inside because he’s just protected me from a snake.

“See why you shouldn’t be roaming around aimlessly? Things could have gone—”

“Thank you, Vaughn.”

He slows down in his steps and looks at me, first from the corner of his eyes, then fully. He doesn’t say anything. I’ve already stopped, clutching at my sides against the light cold. We stare at each other in silence for a while, and at that moment, it seems like the Vaughn who rescued me from drowning, the Vaughn who wrapped his strong arms and jacket around mewhen I was sick, the Vaughn who climbs on trees to get fruit so I don’t starve, is back. I hope he never leaves.

These are the warm blue eyes I first saw when I opened my eyes on this abandoned island, and just staring into them pulls me in like the ocean.

A lump forms in my throat. I clutch a little tighter to my sides, and it has nothing to do with the cold this time. One of those mockingbirds screams as it flaps its wings above us, giving me the perfect opportunity to shift my gaze.

“Thank you for saving me back there.”

Still, silence.

“I don’t even want to imagine what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

Okay, this is starting to get awkward. I should shut up now.

His lips form into a smile, and without acknowledging that I just thanked him, he says, “We better get going. It’s getting late and cold out here.”

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