Page 124 of Cherry Beats

“Don’t you ever get scared?”

“All the time.”

“Then why don’t you show it?”

“Because showing it doesn’t make you any less scared. It just lets everyone else know. That shit doesn’t achieve anything.”

“But you could show me every once in a while.”

“You want me to be vulnerable in front of you, is that it?”

“Not vulnerable.” I paused, taking a moment to get it right. “More… open.”

Presley spun us around in the water and walked me backwards until I was pushed up against the long edge that looked out over Barcelona. He brought a hand out of the water to brush back my hair, holding it behind my neck as he leaned closer. “I’ve never been this open with anyone before you, and it pisses me off that you still can’t see that.”

“I see it.” I swallowed, feeling the building of butterflies in my stomach.

“You just need more…” A look of disappointment flashed over him, and I hated that he was constantly trying to make this perfect for me while I seemed to find the easy route to ruin it in a simple second.

I tugged on his hair, wrapping my legs around his waist and pulling myself up in his grip until my face was above his. Presley’s hands moved to cup my arse, holding me high as I stared down at him. “When it comes to you, Presley, I’ll always want more. Take it as a compliment. You’re not failing. We’re just starting.” With a cheeky smile on my face, I pushed back, kicked my feet off the ledge, and I pressed Presley underwater.

He kicked and flailed, eventually breaking the surface and gasping for air as he pushed his hair out of his face. “Jesus Christ, woman!”

I swam away as quickly as I could, laughing the whole time, which only slowed me down and made my strokes sloppy and slow.

“Oh, it’s on!” I heard him cry, right before the splashing began behind me.

Presley was on me in seconds, his hands finding my waist, and his fingers tickling like crazy, making my legs kick out, and my body jerk every which way in his grip. I laughed and squealed, crying out for him to stop before he lifted me as high as he could get me. I dragged in a deep breath, knowing what was coming.

I was under that water in a heartbeat, the blue taking over my vision and a blurred image of Presley’s body in front of me. The need to laugh underwater took over, but I held it together until I broke the surface, gasping for oxygen and blinking wildly.

“I can’t believe you just did that to a tiny little woman!”

“Please.” He splashed the surface of the water, pushing it in my face and making me squeal again. “You’re the strongest badass I know.”

“Presley!” I cried through my laughter.

“Cherry!” he mocked.

When I opened my eyes, he was there in front of me, his smile brighter than the sun, and happiness radiating from him like never before. I reached out to grab onto his shoulders and pull myself closer. His body was warm, and I wanted the heat.

“Keep smiling like that, rock star, and people will stop thinking you’re the moody one of the band.”

“I don’t care about anyone’s opinion now but yours.”

* * *

We were in and out of the pool for hours, alternating between swimming, laughing, play-fighting, and relaxing on the sun loungers with a beer or a cocktail. Presley got behind the bar once to put on his best performance of Tom Cruise in Cocktail, tossing any spirit I suggested into the shaker before he mixed it all together and poured it into a glass for me.

Every single one made me gag because like everything in life, Presley did nothing with half measures—only double, and the strength of those cocktails was enough to knock me off my feet. He, however, had no problem polishing off what I couldn’t finish.

We’d eaten, with several platters of food being brought up every couple of hours. The sun had fallen behind the horizon, and now we were left with fairy lights up above and the lights of Barcelona illuminating the city before our very eyes.

Everything about this night was perfect.

Music played through the speakers, and when I heard Bon Jovi ringing out around me, I turned to stare at Presley.

“You arranged this?” I asked, watching him as he lay back on a lounger with his eyes closed, his arms behind his head and his legs crossed at the ankle.

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