Page 17 of And the Best Man Ran Away With the Groom

I take the bottle with a shrug. “Yeah, no wor—” The words getting stuck on my tongue, and I’m left staring as Trent tugs his singlet off to reveal his absolutely mouth-watering chest and abs. I have to physically tear my gaze away, mentally scolding myself for my idiotic behaviour. It’s not as though I didn’t already know Trent has an amazing body; that singlet hardly leaves much room for doubt, after all. I clear my throat, resolving to put all thoughts of Trent’s abs from my mind. “Turn around,” I instruct him gruffly.

He manoeuvres himself so he’s sitting sideways on the banana lounge, with his back facing me.

I squirt some of the sunscreen onto his back and start rubbing it in, doing my best not to notice the way his skin feels under my fingers, or how his muscles bunch and flex at my touch. Jesus, what is wrong with me? I’m supposed to be wallowing over my breakup right now…notlusting after my ex’s straight best friend.

“All done!” I announce brightly and move clear away from him before I can do something stupid like move my hands too far south.

Trent gets to his feet and smiles down at me. “Thanks. You want me to do you?”

God, yes.“No!” I yelp, shaking my head furiously. “Nope, I’m good. Got the rashie.” I gesture at my blindness-inducing rash top.

“You still need to wear sunscreen,” Trent says, a note of concern in his voice.

I nod. “I know. Don’t worry, I’m all good.”

Our drinks arrive and Trent relaxes back on his banana lounge to sip at his shake. “So, I was thinking seeing as how we’ve got nearly two weeks here, maybe we should a kind of alternating schedule thing. Lazy beach day today, go out and do something tomorrow, lazy beach day the next day...” He trails off and glances up at me. “What do you reckon?”

I shrug, nodding. “Sounds good to me.”

“What is it?”I ask, my stomach clenching with dawning apprehension as I catch sight of the thing Trent has dragged me across the resort to see. When he intercepted me on the way back from my massage and told me he had a surprise, I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect. But his undisguised giddiness made my curious, and I’ve well and truly learned over the past couple of days that it’s simply not possible to say no to Trent, so I’ve given up trying.

Or at least Ihadgiven up…before I sawthis.

Trent chuckles. “What does it look like? A motorbike.”

“I meant why are you showing it to me?” I clarify, trepidation prickling at me skin.

“Because I’ve rented it for the afternoon,” he announces proudly. “It’s time to do some exploring in the mountains. This’ll be perfect.” And he reaches out to pat the bike’s seat, as though it’s a prized calf or something.

“Oh, fuck no,” I say with an adamant shake of my head as I stare daggers at the vehicle sitting in front of me. “No way.”

“What? Why not?” Trent asks looking genuinely miffed, as though he can’t possibly understand why I wouldn’t want to get on the death-trap before me.

“Because I don’t want to end up on the news back home like one of those people you hear about who die doing something stupid overseas.”

“This isn’t something stupid,” Trent insists. “It’s just a bike. I ride them all the time. Trust me, you’ll be perfectly safe. And it’s supposed to be the best way to see the mountains.”

“I don’t know…” I say, flicking a sceptical look from him to the bike and back again. “How often do you ride motorbikes on mountain paths?”

The corner of his mouth hitches in a smirk. “A lot. My Granddad has a farm in Macedon, and I’ve been riding dirt bikes there since I was a kid. And I spent a week touring Laos on a bike similar to this one—lots of mountain paths on that trip.”

Somehow, against all my better instincts, I find myself giving in and accepting the helmet Trent hands to me. It’s just so bloody hard to say no to this guy; and it doesn’t help that I’m becoming completely addicted to the sight of that dazzling smile, so am unlikely to pass on the opportunity to bring it out again.

I groan inwardly as I secure the helmet on my head. I’ve tried convincing myself that my reaction the other day while I was applying his sunscreen was just a little blip—an overflow of pent-up sexual frustration or whatever—and it didn’t mean anything. Trent’s straight, and I’ve never been someone who lusts after straight guys. It’s getting harder to make myself believe that, though; especially when every time I see him my stomach does little flip flops. If only he wasn’t so bloody gorgeous. Or so fricken sweet. People that pretty shouldn’t be allowed to be so nice; it’s not fair on anyone else.

“Ready?” Trent asks, swinging his head back to look at me.

“What happens if I say no?” I ask, completely unenthusiastic about the situation I currently find myself in.

Trent flashes a broad grin. “You’ll be fine. Just make sure you’re holding on tight to me, okay?”

I nod and lean forward, wrapping my arms around Trent’s middle. Yeah, this issonot what I need right now, with all these confused thoughts and feelings already in my head. I’m about to let go and climb off the bike, but before I can move, Trent starts up the engine and we’re off.

Everything’s a bit of a blur as we rush through the streets of Chaweng and all I can do is cling tight to Trent, close my eyes, and try not to scream. I’m sure we’re not going nearly as fast as some of the locals who zip around like crazy on their bikes, but it still feels pretty breakneck from back here. Once we get to the mountain path, though, Trent slows to a more cautious pace, and I start to breathe easier. That is, until I open my eyes and see we’re driving on a narrow path, practically kissing the edge of a fucking cliff.

“Oh my god! Oh my god, we’re going to die!”

Trent lets out a bark of laughter, and even in my current precarious state, the sound and the way his muscles ripple under my fingers as he laughs sends a jolt of desire running through my body. “We’re not going to die,” he assures me. “Just keep holding on tight. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

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