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Of course, I realize a moment later, it’s probably Cassie. And he’s not going to answer it.

“I’m going to take a shower,” I say.

He frowns. “Keely?—”

“You’re right. I stink. And I’m starving. You mind ordering me some food?”

Still watching me, he nods.

“Thanks. I’d love a juicy Indulgence burger. The chef tops the meat with a mean mango salsa I can’t get enough of. Oh, and I want an extra-large portion of fries with it, please.”

One brow lifts. “Anything else?”

“No, that should about cover it. See you in a few.”

I bolt for the bathroom and jump into the shower. Despite having used the spa facilities on board the yacht when I returned, I scrub myself again from head to toe.

Two truths smack me in the face as I’m drying myself.

The first is, I don’t care what anyone who sees me with Mason labels me as. All I want is to be with him.

I also possess a rampantly alive and kicking fountain of jealousy and possessiveness. Enough to equal or even surpass Zach Savage’s. I want to throat-punch each and every woman that Mason has ever fucked.

The first observation fills me with even more dread. The second I accept with weary resignation. I wasn’t joking when I told Mason I was already fucked up. Learning this new dimension of myself only adds to my unique quirkiness.

I’m chuckling cruelly at myself as I leave Mason’s bedroom, wearing nothing but a short silk robe. When I hear voices, I think it’s the restaurant’s concierge, delivering my food.

My feet slam to a halt when I enter the living room.“Bethany?”

She turns and smiles when she sees me. “There you are! Was thinking I might need to barge in there and pull you out of that shower.”

She reaches me and tugs me into a hug. Beyond her shoulder, I see Zach talking to Mason.

A sense of déjà vu fills me. The last time I was in this position was in Zach and Bethany’s kitchen in Montauk. Now, as then, I’m filled with turmoil and dread. It’s strange to think so much, and so little, has changed since that day.

Bethany pulls back and stares into my face. I see the concern and anxiety in her blue eyes, and my heart catches.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

Her eyes widen. “Nothing.I’mfine. But I was about to ask you the same question.”

A knock on the door stops further conversation. I let the bellboy in and direct him where to leave the trolley.

The moment he leaves, Bethany grabs my hand and clutches it tight. “We need to talk. Can we go to your suite?” There’s tension in her body, and I notice that she’s not doing her usualdevour-Zach-from-across-the-roomroutine.

In fact, her body is precisely and deliberately turned away from the two men on the balcony.

“Bethany, what the hell’s going on?”

She shuts her eyes for a fortifying second, before she stares sadly at me. “I promised Zach I wouldn’t say anything. He’ll kill me if he knows I’m even thinking about it. But?—”

“Stopfuckingwith me, girl, and spill.” Whispering the dirty word brings a ridiculous swell of shame, as if I’m betraying Mason.

Compelled by his name ricocheting though my mind, my gaze finds his. He’s staring right back at me, intense speculation narrowing his eyes.

“Not here,” Bethany pleads.

I drag my gaze from Mason’s and nod. Plastering a fake smile on my face, I stride to the trolley and grip the handle.