Page 19 of Anyone But You

“I know the last five minutes have been playful, unserious banter to distract us from a very real situation, but we need to get serious, Knox Wolfe Ramsey.”

“You were close that time.”

“Really?” I asked in disbelief.

“No, not really. You couldn’t be further.”

“You’re lying,” I accused.

“I’d give you my wallet to confirm, but it’s lost at sea along with the rest of our shit.”

Thanks for the reminder, dipshit.

“I know you’re scared,” Knox said. “This is…an unreal situation, and I’d be lying if I said I know how to get us out of it. But I’m here and willing to do whatever I can to keep us alive and thriving until we’re rescued.”

“What if we’re not rescued?” I asked softly. His face pinched with uncertainty. He raised his arms out to his sides.

“Then welcome to our new life.”

The tears returned, and Knox had me in his arms in seconds. My shoulders shook. “I-I can feel your dick against my stomach,” I said through my tears.

“I apologize,” he said, scooting back just a smidge.

God, if you plan on me being stranded on this island with this man for the rest of my days, then let a falling coconut take me out now!

I waited a few moments, but the head-smashing coconut never came.

“I need you, Victoria.”

I need this man to stop asking me for a pity-stranded-island fuck.

“I know I’m the big boss at the office, but we need to work together here.” My crying had reduced to sporadic sniffles. “Believe it or not, I can’t be efficient without you, whether in the office or on a remote island.”

“My pay should reflect that,” I responded.

“Your benefit package is out of this world. You’re compensated better than most executive assistants. Not too many CEOs pay for their assistants’ apartments. Especially assistants they aren’t fucking.”

My brows knitted together. I was curious.

“Why do you pay for my apartment?”

“I’ll tell you when we get home—whatever version of home that might be. It might be a high-rise or a hut.”

I pulled out of his arms and instantly missed the warmth despite how hot and humid it was. He provided a different kind of warmth—a comforting coziness that made you feel that everything would be okay. I wanted to pretend that everything would be fine, but the reality was that someone might become sick, get hurt, or be injured.

What happens if it’s Knox? According to my Naked and Afraid meter, the co-pilot has a low survival rating. What will happen if I’m left all alone? That’s what I fear the most. I can’t think like this—catastrophizing and expecting the worst. The negativity won’t do us any good. I have no choice but to put on my big girl panties and make the most of an awful situation.

“Knox, we need to come up with a game plan.”

“Agreed.”

“What kind of survival skills do you have?”

“I did a few years in the Boy Scouts.”

“I didn’t know that. How come you never told me?”

“Mmmm, maybe because you never asked, and you spent more time threatening to kill me with your stapler than getting to know me,” he answered.