Page 28 of Paradise Pride

“It wasn’t a date,” Meghan mumbled. “Besides, she’s off today, so she won’t be there.”

“Oh, you know her schedule now, do you?”

“We’re friends,” Meghan said. “So, yes, I know her schedule.”

“Right.” Kim shot her a sceptical look. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting to experiment. I get it. You want to kiss a woman because who hasn’t? After being around lesbians the whole weekend, your head got filled with all sorts of naughty ideas.” She patted Meghan’s arm. “And what better place to do that than in another country where no one knows you? Don’t worry, I promise you. What happens in Benidorm, stays in Benidorm. This will go no further, ever.”

Kim couldn’t have been more wrong, but Meghan didn’t tell her that. She didn’t tell her that she’d had the most meaningful night of her life with spectacular sex and new, wonderful emotions that were still raging through her. She didn’t tell her that she couldn’t stop thinking of Florence, and that she longed for her with a fire that was unknown to her, a yearning so deep it possessed her.

“It wasn’t a date, we’re just friends,” she said again, filling her beach bag with anything she could possibly need so she wouldn’t have to go back to the room on her own. “How about we take a break from the pool and go to the beach instead? I read about this lovely beach bar, and I wouldn’t mind a dip in the sea. It’s not far, we can take a taxi.” With Florence not being around, a day at the poolside suddenly seemed awfully dull. She needed to get away from Paradise Hotel for a few hours because everything reminded her of Florence, and it took away her ability to think clearly and focus on her friend’s happiness.

“I like your, thinking,” Kim said. “I deserve somewhere fancier to celebrate my engagement than an all-inclusive hotel.”

“Exactly.” Meghan checked herself in the mirror and put an arm around Kim as they headed out. “My treat.”

28

Florence

Florence watched Manuel attack the toast like he hadn’t eaten in years. They were sitting outside the breakfast café under their apartment, waking up in the sun over coffee and scrambled eggs, but she wasn’t hungry.

“Here, have mine too,” she said, sliding her toast basket across the table. The uninspiring venue was basic and the menu limited, but it was their standard spot in the morning when they both had a day off. Manuel was grilling her relentlessly over last night, but she hadn’t given anything away.

“Thanks.” Manuel buttered another slice. “Are you sure nothing happened?” he asked again, arching a brow at her.

“I’m sure. I think I’d remember.”

“That’s interesting. Maybe I can jog your memory.” Manuel grinned as he dropped a pause. “Someone saw you kissing on the beach last night.”

Florence felt her cheeks burn, and she kept quiet as she hid behind her big mug.Fuck. I should have been more careful.It wasn’t as much her job she was worried about as Meghan. She suspected Meghan didn’t want anyone to know, and if the staff knew, they might throw them looks or crack jokes, and that would be uncomfortable for her.

“Who told you that?” she asked, sipping her coffee.

“One of the guests who was out with us last night. She said it looked pretty intense.”

“Right.” Florence sighed. “Did she tell anyone else?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe her friends, but they’re all flying back today, so it doesn’t matter.” Manuel’s grin widened. “Hey, don’t worry. I’ll keep it to myself.”

“Good. I’d really appreciate that.” Florence took a small bite of her eggs and dropped her fork. She couldn’t eat, she couldn’t think, and she couldn’t function. The only thing on her mind was Meghan, and she didn’t understand how one night could have such an impact on her sanity.

Manuel finished his eggs, then pointed to Florence’s plate. “Aren’t you going to eat those either?”

“No. You can have them.” She pushed the plate towards him and sat back.

“So, now that you know I know, are you still not going to tell me?”

“It’s private.” Florence had no intention of telling him anything. In ten days, Meghan would return to the UK and that was that. She’d miss her, and she’d probably need some time to get over her, even though they hadn’t known each other for long. It would be crazy to think that a holiday romance could ever work out in real life. She saw it regularly with hotel guests—the tears as they hugged each other goodbye while they were waiting for their separate tour operators to pick them up and take them to the airport. Sometimes it worked out, she supposed. If they lived in the same country, and their circumstances were right. But more often than not, it ended in pain, and that was exactly what was going to happen to her and Meghan.

“You’re in love,” Manuel said, so casually it sounded like a joke.

“I’m not in love,” Florence shot back at him. “That’s ridiculous. I barely know her.”

“Then you have a crush on her, or whatever it’s called when people can’t eat or sleep. I have a sister. I know the signs.” Manuel pointed to her plate that he’d almost cleared. “You love breakfast, but you haven’t touched your food and you have a weird stare,” he said. “It’s kind of creepy, like I’m transparent and you’re seeing right through me when I’m talking.”

“I can see you perfectly fine.” Florence waved at the waiter and held up her coffee cup for a refill. She hadn’t slept much as she’d left early in case Kim returned, and back in bed at home, she wasn’t able to sleep at all. “Anyway, what you just said … It sounds like you’ve never been in love. Surely, you must have fallen for someone at some point in your life.”

Manuel shrugged. “I don’t think so. I’ve never been like you are now, that’s for sure.” He chuckled, then added, “Thank God. Shoot me if I ever become a love zombie.”

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