Page 35 of One Week in Paradise
‘That’s how she and my dad met back in the day,’ he explains. ‘At a friend’s wedding. They bumped into each other on the dance floor, and that was that.’
‘That’s really sweet.’
‘Yeah.’ Cash gives me a soft smile. ‘They had a great relationship; from what I remember of it, anyway.’
‘How old—’
‘He died when I was nine,’ Cash says, knowing what my question was going to be. ‘So it’s just been me and Mum ever since.’
‘She did a great job with you,’ I say softly, and I mean it too. I’m rapidly beginning to realise that the Cash I made up in my head – the egotistical asshole with no personality – is not the same person holding me right now.
There are layers to him, and I want to peel them all back and see what’s at his core.
‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ I say, deciding it’s time for me to do my part to mend this rift between us. ‘I overstepped.I get it, and you’re right. You’re Dane’s best friend. I wouldn’t want to ruin that over a stupid holiday fling.’
Cash swallows. ‘Yeah. Exactly.’
‘And promise me you won’t tell Dane about any of this?’ I grimace. ‘He’ll never let me live it down.’
We meet each other’s gaze, and I have to focus, so I don’t drown in his eyes.
‘I promise,’ he says. ‘It’ll be our secret.’
The dance class is more fun than I expect. We spend the night wrapped in each other’s arms, swaying and moving to the rhythm of the songs on Claudia’s playlist. Claudia dutifully takes loads of photos and videos of us, and I’m strangely excited to scroll through my camera roll and see them all later tonight.
When the session ends, we’re not ready to head back to the suite, so we spend several hours aimlessly doing laps around the resort, talking about anything and everything.
I’ve known Cash for nearly two decades, but we’ve never spoken as much as we have tonight. I feel like I’ve been introduced to a completely new person.
He’s open and honest with me, laughing freely as he tells me about his first-ever construction job and how he accidentally shot a nail through his thumb within the first hour.
‘You can still kind of see the scar,’ he says, wiggling histhumb in front of my face. ‘All right, it’s your turn. That was my most embarrassing work story. What’s yours?’
‘That wasn’tembarrassing,’ I say. ‘More like painful.’
‘Fair,’ he concedes. ‘What about the time I was redoing a bathroom for a client, and I stepped out to get some fresh air, and when I came back, they were sitting on the toilet?’
‘That’s not too bad.’
‘Naked.’
Laughter wracks through me. ‘What the hell?’
‘I know!’ Cash laughs easily with me. ‘They weren’t even apologetic. They acted likeIwas the problem. Very weird. I left and didn’t go back.’
‘Understandable.’
‘Your turn.’
I can’t tell him my most embarrassing work story because that technically involves Ethan and the aftermath in the wake of The Video, and I’m not ready to relive that particular torture just yet. Instead, I tell him about the collaboration I did with a brand whose make-up gave me an allergic reaction.
‘My lips weresoswollen,’ I groan as I take out my phone and show Cash one of the few photos I took. ‘And it gave me this really horrible rash all over my face. I couldn’t leave my place for a full week. And to make it worse, the make-up was genuinely terrible. It was so cakey and dry. They didn’t believe me at first, so I had to send them the photos. It was so embarrassing.’
Cash doesn’t laugh. In fact, he looks quite concerned. ‘Did they compensate you?’
‘Of course not,’ I snort. ‘They actually still wanted me to post a video. They thought the lips were giving Kylie Jenner and that it would be good for business.’
‘Did you post?’
