Page 8 of Unwrapping Spring Break

The first thing I think of to calm me down is a drink. Without another word, I storm out, hearing the door slam shut behind me. My usual bourbon old-fashioned usually does the trick, but by the time I reach the bar, it occurs to me that the first meeting is in a couple of hours. I shouldn’t indulge in alcohol right now. I prefer to stay sober during business meetings and can’t smell of alcohol. The atmosphere of the bar will have to suffice.

I’m used to the bars back home—all dim lighting and brass fixtures with dark wood polished to a high shine. The bar at the hotel fits the Caribbean vibe better. I should have remembered that from their website. Unfortunately, my emotional state is making me forget things, since the sight of the brightly lit open lounge catches me off guard. I’m now kicking myself with disappointment when I walk through the bar and sit down on a stool toward the far end.

“Mr. Griffin. Welcome.” The bartender addresses me by name as he approaches with a smile. There’s something else I forgot about from the website. The staff here are primed to know us all on sight.

A nod and a scowl I can’t get rid of are the extent of my greeting. Sadly, this trip is not starting as well as I’d hoped. I can only hope it doesn’t carry over to the business portion.

“What can I get for you, sir?”

The bartender continues to smile at me with his youth on display. He looks to be about the same age as Lily. No doubt he could pass for one of the cabana boys she was drooling over back in the room.Wonderful.

“Old-fashioned.” My order slips off my tongue before I can think twice about it. I cringe, then let out a sigh. “Virgin,” I say through clenched teeth.

“Right away, sir.” The bartender nods and disappears down the bar to make my stupid drink.

He comes back a moment later and sets my drink down. I give him a slight nod, bring the glass to my lips, and take a hesitant sip. It tastes right, but there’s no kick to it. No burn down my throat, no warming sensation when it hits my stomach. But it’s familiar enough I can feel it if I pretend it has alcohol. After a couple more sips, I’m able to fool myself enough that I’m able to calm down and think rationally.

“Buy a girl a drink?”

It takes a moment to pull myself out of my thoughts, barely realizing a woman sits beside me. This is the last thing I need right now. I lift my head to politely explain I didn’t want company, but I’m surprised to see Lily grinning at me. The smile on her face warms me more than the drink does. However, the recent memory of the condoms makes my brow furrow.

“What are we drinking?” she asks. Before I can stop her, she picks up the glass and sniffs the liquid. Her nose wrinkles adorably as she puts the glass down in front of me. Then she turns to the bartender and says, “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please. And make it a heavy pour, unlike whatever this teetotaler is drinking.”

“Right away, Miss Summers.” He does not indicate if he picks up on any of the tension between us. On the contrary—he’s just as polite to her as he was to me.

My frown deepens when I turn toward her. “How do you know a word like ‘teetotaler’?” The word itself is from a time before mine. It’s such an old-fashioned word to come from someone so young.

She gives me a blank look that suggests I should know better than to ask. I blink, quickly remembering that not only is she an English teacher, but she also has a past full of old-fashioned elitists. They pride themselves on their continued use of words that have long since gone out of style. I roll my eyes and return to the horrible drink in front of me.

Once again, silence fills the small space between us. It’s reminiscent of the flight we shared, only this time, I’m not teasing her. The silence comes with such awkward tension that we need to address the elephant in the room if even one second of this trip to be enjoyable. I don’t want to, but I realize my actions were childish. I don’t open my mouth until she’s received her drink and takes a healthy sip.

“I don’t like the idea of you being with another man.”

There. I said it.As much as I hate to admit it to myself, it’s like pulling my own teeth for me to vocalize it out loud. Both hands clench my glass as if it’s the only thing keeping me on the barstool.

From the corner of my eye, Lily frowns as she looks down into her drink. She turns the glass clockwise on the bar top with her fingers. One, two, three rotations before she speaks.

“Why?”

Her voice is quiet but filled with care and curiosity. The unexpected tone is enough for me to glance her way once again.

My heart thuds in my chest as I see the expression on her face. Disappointment. Hurt. A flicker of betrayal. I’d do anything I could to make it go away, to coax her pretty smile back, but it’s not possible right now.

“You know why,” I say quietly. I want to tell her how I feel. I want to explain how much it would kill me to know she’s with someone else.I want you all to myself. Still, I can’t get the words out.

Her eyes search my face for all the unspoken words. Inside, I will my expression to remain stoic. I want her to read my mind. I know it’s unfair—she deserves better than my fear and my hesitation. I want to give her everything, to open myself up to her and welcome her in. I just can’t open those gates. Not yet.

Lily looks back down at her drink, and I follow suit. We search for answers at the bottom of our glasses. I’m not sure what she saw in my eyes. Curiosity is an ugly beast, but if I’m not willing to share, it’s unjust for me to ask her. So instead, we sip our drinks next to each other in a silence that is becoming all too familiar.

Then the first crack in the dam happens. Lily slides her hand toward me on the bar top. It’s such a small movement, carrying a huge gesture of trust. There are only two options for me. The safe one, and probably the smartest, is to walk away—to send her after those stupid cabana boys. But it’s not what I want, and with the slight movement of her hand, it’s clear she’s thinking the same.

I do the only thing I can do. I rest my hand on top of hers.

Chapter Seven

Lily

Iwillscreamifthings become any more tense between Jax and me. He’s so freaking stubborn. He can’t even admit how he feels. Although, to be fair, I’m just as bad. All I did was reach for his hand, like one of my students would when they like someone. But at least I followed him to the bar. I tried to get him to talk, but my mouth disengaged from my brain when he flipped the tables on me.

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